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steviewashere · 10 months

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To Be Cast Away and Brought Back In

(also on ao3)

wc: 1,986, Steddie Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Minor Character Death, Minor Sick Character, Mentions of Chronic Illnesses, Established Steddie (For the rest of the tags, they're on ao3. No content warning.)

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Eddie Munson moved to Hawkins, Indiana at the age of ten. He was picked up by social services with a good portion of his belongings, carted into the back of an unsuspecting little black Cadillac, escorted to Forest Hills Trailer Park, and practically pushed into his Uncle Wayne's floundering arms. Wayne knew that he'd be getting a new roommate, but the softness after all the commotion didn't make Eddie's anxieties lessen any.

There was a point in time where he could accurately tell somebody that he was being taken care of at home by both of his parents. His dad would play catch in the front yard. Mama Munson would read illustrated books and prep his bubble baths. They were tight knit, for a while, they could expect one another to be there. As present as ever. With dinner on the table and a new funny story and a mountain of homework on Eddie's part.

But it wasn't made to last. Eddie didn't expect for it all to come crumbling down before he had the chance to even start junior high, but it happened anyway. Papa Munson, better known as Allen "Al" Munson to authorities, had been in and out of jail a good portion of young Eddie's life. Usually on several counts of theft. One time for grand theft auto. But he would come out of it, be put on parole, and eventually make his way back to their little home in the outskirts of Indianapolis.

What tore into Eddie, however, was his mother.

Eleanor Munson, or Nora as she liked to be called, had always been sick in one way or another. Whether it was physically—coughing fits that led to incessant gagging and sometimes what seemed like endless bouts of vomiting, or chronic nerve pain that forced her to lay still in bed for far too long, and more often than not, the migraines. And then there was of course some town cries of her being emotionally inept or mentally ill or a basket case on legs or a nervous, psychotic break. Whatever clever thing they could think of at the time, when it would later be "manic depression," but that wouldn't come until some years after Eddie had already relocated.

Most of Eddie's growing up was spent taking care of his mother. Bringing her ice packs, heat packs, the hot water bottle, warm towels. Some days he'd draw her a bath. Other days he'd just tiptoe with some painkillers, a glass of water, and a plate of plain toast—she'd send him off to play on his own. He had toys and books and art supplies, a small bicycle and a baseball, but he didn't want to do any of that. Not on his own. And since his dad was often out and causing mishap or landing himself behind bars, his growing up had been desolate and desperate and all too lonely.

He hates to acknowledge some of his true feelings now. The rise of pent up resentment. Simmering anger and that gnawing sadness. It attached to his ten year old heart and didn't want to let go.

Not even when he moved in with Uncle Wayne.

On the first night at the trailer, Eddie simply threw his bags to the linoleum floor by the front door, stomped over to the couch, and landed so that his face was digging into one of the seat cushions. He remembers muffling some screams, definitely a few wet sobs, even some disgusting snot rockets. Yet, and he finds himself appreciating it even now, Wayne just leet him do his thing. Let him cry and yell and choke for what seemed like an eternity.

And when he came back to his present body, sitting up with the effort of a brand new body builder loading on too many weights, Wayne simply brought him a cup of hot cocoa in the Garfield mug set aside just for troublesome nights like these. Though, the troubled nights ended up being near daily.

Could you blame Eddie? He was dumped off. It felt as if he was something being abandoned at a junkyard. Though, Wayne's trailer has always been too nice for that comparison.

Even later on that night, when Wayne had shown him to his bed and gave him a warm comforter and a full glass of ice water, Eddie had asked, "When do I get to go home and be with my mama?"

Wayne tucked him in. Huffed a hot puff of breath. And he whispered, "You ain't goin' back, Bubba. You're 'ere with me now."

Eddie's lip trembled, brown eyes growing wide and wet. "This is my home?" his little voice squeaked. "But—Mama...Mama is at home."

He watched as his uncle shook his head. Clicked his tongue against his teeth. And sat heavily next to Eddie's side. "Did those people not tell you why you're 'ere?" Eddie shook his head. "Bubba—" He sighed. "Bubba, you couldn't get your mama to wake up, right?" And Eddie nodded. "So you called me. And...I helped you get people to come check on her. They—" Wayne sniffled and wiped a hand down his face, dragging his features. "Your mama isn't at home anymore. She died, Ed."

"Died?" Eddie whispered, horrified. Wayne simply nodded.

He remembers getting a conversation a few months ago, something about his mom not doing too well. What to do, just in case. To call his Uncle Wayne.

"In case she dies," was one of the first things talked about. His dad had told him. He knows what it means. They had a dog at one point, he had died in an accident. A goldfish, too, that died from old age. Even the cat they took in from the street, she died from an illness.

"But—But what about Papa? How come I don't get to go with him?"

"Your daddy is in a lot of trouble, kiddo. Remember how he was always getting in trouble for things?" Wayne asked, once again, Eddie nodded. "He did something bad again and now he's doing a lot of time for it." Another weary sigh. "We'll talk about it some more, okay? I promise. Tonight, you just need to get some sleep."

Eddie shuffled further under the comforter. Before Wayne could get too far, Eddie called out, "Can you read my book to me, please?" He gestured to a battered up copy of The Hobbit on his bedside table.

"You're reading The Hobbit?"

"Mama used to read it to me; before she got super sick," Eddie whispered.

And that became their nightly tradition. Nice dinner, hot cocoa in the Garfield mug, warm shower, tucked into bed, and Wayne would read aloud The Hobbit. Until eventually it turned into them trading off chapters. Eddie would do the character voices and Wayne would compliment him.

Eddie's life truly began in the sanctuary of Wayne's trailer. Given items for Dungeons and Dragons, the rest of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, and more hot meals than he had ever had in his life.

Things were normal, they were fine.

Until Chrissy Cunningham died. Broken and bleeding. Until he ran. Patrick dead too, the same way. More running and hiding and being hunted down. Watching other people nearly lose their lives. Almost losing his own.

The days spent in the hospital, tied up by tubes and ports and constant streams of doctors. Calling him a miracle. His friends calling him a hero. Wayne going back to his habit of calling him Bubba.

And then, though there was the nightmares and the flashbacks and the other issues that arose from the ashes of the Upside Down, things became okay again.

Eddie fell in love with his high school crush, Steve Harrington. And Steve Harrington fell in love with someone unsuspected in Eddie. They shared a constant space. Holding each other through blood soaked nightmares. Getting high to a bearable level, not going far enough to push Steve into a corner.

What Eddie wasn't prepared to handle were the migraines. Not from him. Though, he definitely had days where his scars felt too tight or there was the phantom sensation of those things biting into his flesh. No, Steve had them.

As severe as Nora Munson did. Leaving Steve Harrington bedridden, nauseous, in pain that only worsened unless he could sleep it off. He was tired a good portion of the time. And when he wasn't, he was in pain.

In fact, it's one of those migraine attacks right now. It comes full force in the early hours of June 16th, 1986. Eddie hasn't been around for one before, but he knows immediately what to do. Grabs ice packs and a cold wet rag. Makes a plate of plain toast with butter. Fills a glass with ice water and the center of his palm with some extra strength painkillers.

Eddie makes quick work. Draping the rag on Steve's sweaty forehead. Gently setting the icepack at the back of his skull. Helping him take his medication, leaving the food and water on the bedside table.

Just as he tiptoes to leave the room, however, he hears from behind him in a hushed voice, "Where you going?" Granted, the syllables are slurred, a lot tired. He can realize that it must take Steve a great amount of effort to just speak out, even something so mundane. Eddie winces in solidarity.

"I'm giving you some space," Eddie whispers back.

"You don't ha-fta go," Steve whines. "Come lay with me," he offers, patting the empty space beside him.

Though it goes against all of what Eddie knows, he obliges anyway. He hesitantly climbs back into bed. Stiff on the mattress. Body barely covered by the blanket, just in case. Then, Steve scoots close and wraps himself along Eddie's side. And because he can't help himself, Eddie brings one of his hands to tickle over Steve's spine. The other traces the moles on his forearm.

"You can talk," Steve whispers. "I don't like the silence."

Eddie hums. Squeezes Steve's bicep before trailing back down to his forearm. "My mom used to get migraines. Knew how to take care of her," he murmurs. "She made me leave her alone. But...If that's what she wanted, then I did it. Even if I wanted her to play or read with me."

"I'll never make you go away," Steve breathes into the exposed skin of Eddie's neck. "Reminds me that there's somebody here that cares." Eddie hums again. "My parents didn't like taking care of me when I was sick, I was kind of a lot as a kid."

"Could never be too much for me." Eddie carefully leans down and presses a kiss to Steve's hairline. "I'll do anything you need. It's just hard for me to do sometimes, puts me back in that mindset, I guess."

"That's okay," Steve sighs.

They let silence lapse around them.

It's nice, to stay in the room. To be there. Knowing that he's needed, especially. He was needed when he was a kid, there's no doubt about that. But it's different, somehow it's a different kind of necessity.

"Can you tell me a story, Eds?"

And so Eddie does one of the many things Wayne taught him. He builds an elaborate story from thin air. About pleasant things and badass knights and princesses with gorgeous dresses and hair. He weaves elaborate plot lines about the characters saving one another, being there for one another. If the inspiration comes from him and Steve, nobody has to know, but he feels as though Steve caught on.

He can hear Steve yawn at some point. When he glances down, catching Steve trying to keep his eyes open, he snorts. "You can go to sleep, baby. I'll be right here when you wake up next."

"Promise?"

"Promise, Stevie. There's no place I'd rather be."

#stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #post season 4 #post canon #established relationship #sickfic #minor character death

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thewertsearch · 1 year

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Asks Comp - 16/4

I literally did not know The Baby Is You was a thing. To be welcomed back into the comic like this after four months is very on brand for Homestuck.

... and wow, its outro really does match the end of this song, doesn't it? That's even funnier than if he'd snuck some of Megalovania in there.

Ooh, that's another liveblog I'll want to check out when I'm done! I've never actually seen a Worm liveblog before. Adding it to the list myself!

Nothing's really changed since I've been gone! I make a conscious effort not to do much Homestuck analysis off-blog, since I want my journey to be fully documented here.

It's good to be back! I'm looking forward to a full reread when I'm done.

Would you believe I didn't even know there was a book?

I also didn't know the movie had two (allegedly) terrible sequels, which is very funny. Neverending story indeed.

Thank you! I can't take too much credit, though - most of my tagging system has been crowdsourced from askers!

At some point, before we reach the end of the comic, I'm going to have to formalize my approach to liveblogging Homestuck's side content.

What I'll probably do is give each of them the 'lite' treatment initially, but if they turn out to be more canonical than I thought, or particularly interesting to liveblog, I'll 'zoom in', and analyze them properly. We'll see how we go!

Could you imagine the relationship dynamics in your average troll soap opera? The shipping web for a single season would make our heads explode.

It's a fun question. What sort of object symbolizes everything?

The first thing I'd try would be a star chart, Dave's magnifier and a literal planetful of Grist.

Added to the list! Not until later later on, though - I'd worry that the opinions and theories of another liveblogger could interfere with my own, especially if they're talking about it with someone who's already read it!

I would find it hard to disagree.

Do people think Act 1 is pointless?

I mean, it is the slowest Act in terms of pacing, but slow pacing isn't always a bad thing. You sort of have to take it slow when your readers have this much to get to grips with.

...okay, maybe we didn't need quite as many Sylladex mishaps as we got. But we still needed some. Homestuck has a lot to introduce you to.

I always pictured an English accent for Hass - although, interestingly, I didn't picture one for Jade. As a headcanon, I like the NZ one better.

Where did Grandpa grow up again, actually? He was raised by Fake Mark Twain, who was from Missouri - but I don't have a clue what a Missouri accent sounds like, let alone one from a century ago. I have a funny feeling that it's not the accent I'm imagining coming from Jade.

Now that's a ship I'd never have seen coming. Props to Hussie for coming up with something more controversial than my Feferi<>Equius.

All four kids, with four endgame weapons, might be able to challenge Jack's current incarnation - but they're not going to get the chance. You've hit the nail on the head - he's semi-perfect Jack for a reason.

I have several theories for Jade's prototyping, and every single one of them would make Jack even more dangerous than before. It's just barely possible to challenge him now, but things will only get worse.

Read the room, Serket!

Would Vriska have tried to negotiate? She feels like the type of person who'd rather take a beating than admit they're outclassed. Plus, I'm not sure how much she'd have to offer Aradia, who seemed entirely motivated by revenge (and, possibly, secretly motivated by timeline stuff).

All that said, I would have loved to hear Vriska trying to worm her way out of this.

I love it! Please send in the completed house, if you get the chance. That's going to look so cool with a moving meteor.

And they're both easily distractible! This feels like two people who might actually get on surprisingly well, if they were in, say, the same high school class.

It's hard to say what's a rarepair, since I don't know what ships are rare in the fandom - although I'd have a few guesses about the most common ones.

If we're going for a ship with very tenuous connections, I will submit Rose x Feferi for your appraisal. They're both fans of the Noble Circle, and their signature colors are pretty close.

You know what, I'll just review all of your ships. Tavros/Gamzee - PB&J - is pretty cute. [] I'd recommend Miracle Child for a number of reasons, but it does include a well-written Gamtav. Jack/Droog is more <> to me than it is <3. Like One Sundered Star might be influencing that? I'm not really sure. Somewhere I think I saw a Jack<>Droog. Your pre-shipping chart post isn't in the chrono; also, I'm pretty sure the A6A6I5 ask is one of mine. Gamzee/Eridan is a rarepair; I've seen it, but not often, and it's a <> in the fic I'm referencing. Kanaya<>Terezi and Feferi<>Vriska are strange enough that I've never seen them anywhere, really. [] And finally, Vriska and Tavros. These two are the textbook example of why the ashen quadrant needs to exist, and they're a perfect pair for it. [] ~LOSS (8/1/23)

I don't even know if Carapacians have moirallegiance - but those two would definitely work if they did.

Out of all my ships you flagged as rare, I think my favorite is Feferi<>Vriska. I just think they'd gel weirdly well together!

#asks #full liveblog #act 5.2

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captain-aralias · 2 years

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Six 'Carry On' recs for Sunday

thanks for the tags friends! i finished my fic last night, so i have nothing, but i've also been meaning to share some recs for a while, so here's a post! (6 is not enough, but ah well)

Teen

Worst Disney Princess Ever by @hushed-chorus - 9k, Complete

just read this fic this morning. it's so good!!! simon finds baz SUSPCIOUSLY being attacked by zombie rats, but then the rats... start to help baz. and by then simon is kind of weirdly charmed by them. very funny, lovely evolving relationship. i also really like the first halloween fic by hushed_chorus Call of the Sea which is just 2k. very different vibes

Solve Me by Angel_Wings14 - 1k exactly!, Complete

this fic was actually recommended to me by @raenestee - i love it! a super early watford era fic in which simon does something unexpected. i love the way it's set up and the way baz's emotions change, and for this small reason.

Mature/Explicit:

Intrusive Thoughts by brandnewbeepbeep - 35k, 9/9 chapters, Complete

not exactly a magical mishap, though similar vibes. simon can make baz hear his thoughts and (for reasons) tries to make baz think that he's gay. for simon. it's very funny and really good fun, also simon does feel very bad about what he's done (eventually) in case you were worried. i read this in one sitting.

I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man by @shrek-gogurt - 3.5k, 1/25, WIP

another rec from someone else, this case @fatalfangirl. i'm loving this story already, worth getting on board now. baz is a famous footballer, he left simon behind at a 3rd rate club and now a 'gentleman's agreement' means he has to go back...... or at least, he wants to go back. great dialogue, flashbacks, really nice version of the tension of their relationship - somehow the most important thing in their lives even though simon doesn't know he likes baz (as you'd expect). no sex yet, in case you were wondering.

Lift Off by DubiousSparrow - 5k, Complete

normal AU but with fun teacher backstory (baz and penny live together???), i also really love where this story is set in time. it's exceptionally awkward for them to be stuck together because of an pivotal event that's already happened. which we find out about over the course of the fic.

Baker boxer teacher grief (Or: The thing that lasts) by ophelietta/ @chen-chen-chen-again-chen - 21k, 5/5 chapters, Complete!

this is by the same author who did the baz/agatha wedding/simon's a baker fic - it's ALSO very very good, strangers to lovers. baz needs support at a funeral, everyone assumes simon is his boyfriend, simon is unexpectedly very good with children. i thought about reccing lots of ophelietta's other fics (like, we all had a great time reading The tears of Mummers House, right?!) but i thought i'd go with this, as it's just lovely and 5 times longer. this is an author to subscribe to, though! i mean, they all are, but ophelietta is super prolific and thus far, entirely unexpected. v good.

i also obviously recommend EVERYTHING produced for Carry On Prompts fest. The masterlist is live, featuring 2 fics for me and 2 fics by me, as well as 10+ other brilliant new fanworks. really pleased with the output - it was great! and more to come.

tagged by: @hushed-chorus @stardustasincocaine @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @martsonmars @cutestkilla @bookish-bogwitch @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @ileadacharmedlife @creepyspice

if i tagged you in this, please post 6 sentences of something you're working on! or some recs! or just know i appreciate you <3

#carry on #snowbaz #fic rec #my content

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warcats-cat · 2 years

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Wide Eyed in Wonder (AKA: Two)

Patton has an unfortunate mishap with some wayward magic. Some chaos and some softness ensue.

A/N: Please read The Long Road Home (Tumblr) (Ao3) before reading this fic! It will make a lot more sense with the context from that work.

You can also read this work on Ao3 if preferred!

I'm doing it I'm posting this!!! I've been messing with it since literally before the first chapter of Long Road Home was *posted*. And I know that if I don't just bite the bullet and *post* it, I'll never stop messing with it. Not that I'm not happy with it!! This has one of my favorite one-liner's I've ever written. I just never stop editing...

As always, please let me know if I missed any tags! I hope you enjoy this very silly piece as much as I enjoyed writing it!

- set roughly 3 months after leaving Wardenthall Manor -

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Virgil was still grumbling, wondering why he had been put in the lead when Roman was going on and on about some mysterious fountain that he just had to see, when Patton yelped next to him. The half-fairy had stiffened and fallen backwards, as if something had pushed him over. The party stopped abruptly, Virgil rushing immediately to his fairy’s side.

“Pat? You ok?” he asked softly, kneeling to help him back up if needed.

Patton forced himself back up, bracing with one arm and holding the other to his face. He groaned.

“ ‘M ok. Just a little shocked, I think.” he said, strained. He shook his head as if to clear it, before accepting Virgil’s hand gratefully, and being pulled to his feet.

Upon standing, he immediately stumbled, but quickly righted himself. Virgil could tell the fairy was becoming uncomfortable, watching as he fiddled with the edges of the half-cape that laid over his shoulder.

“Are you ready to continue?” Logan asked, looking like he very much wanted to check Patton for injuries in the meantime. Patton roughly nodded, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, before setting off once more.

Patton made it about two steps before he stumbled again, flailing his arms out and almost slapping Virgil in the process.

"Woah," the mage said, reaching an arm under Patton's to help support him, "You sure you're ok?"

Patton made a face, as if the question was particularly difficult. "I feel… funny." He said finally.

Virgil shuffled him a little closer, noticing the fairy's eyes had gone a little unfocused, tinged red at the corners. What had happened? This time, Logan did come closer, and gently inspected the back of Patton’s head.

“You have no visible injuries. Perhaps you and Virgil should walk closely for a while, in case you continue to feel disoriented.” the scholar said softly. Patton made no motion to acknowledge that Logan had spoken at all, which was extremely weird for him. Patton always acknowledged whoever was speaking, at the very least nodding to signal that he’d heard; a habit long ingrained from his time with the Marquis of Assholes.

Virgil felt Patton start to tremble, just slightly, and as he took another step, he almost seemed to swing his leg, as if it were detached. Virgil had to grab the fairy completely around the chest to keep him from falling flat on his face.

"Hey Ro, need your help." Virgil grunted, and Patton made a hysterical, almost strangled laugh. And yet, at the same time, Patton tilted towards Virgil, as if trying to press the side of his head into Virgil's face. The Prince came carefully from behind the pair, taking a firm but gentle hold of Patton's waist.

"Hello love," Roman said lowly in his ear, "may I pick you up?" The fairy leaned into his touch easily, and nodded. And yet, as Roman adjusted his hold to lift him from the knees, the fairy squeaked, grabbing desperately at Roman's vest and tucking his face into the prince's chest.

"You're alright, tadpole. I've got you." He murmured into Patton's hair, to which the smaller man hummed and relaxed some in his grip, although he made no move to turn his head back around to the others.

To say Virgil was concerned was an understatement.

Patton was still getting used to them as friends, occasionally allowing Virgil to hold his hand, but never one to initiate, especially outside the safety of their little group. It had taken almost a month for him to so much as look Roman in the eye, let alone accept compliments or physical affection. And yet here he was now. He'd flipped faster than a coin from nervous about the situation to red faced, almost purring at snuggling with Roman while the prince held him; and from the side they could see a light, relaxed smile on his face. Virgil exchanged a nervous glance with Logan's curious one.

"Patton," Logan moved closer, and the fairy hummed again. "May I see you please?" The scholar placed a careful hand on his shoulder, and after a moment he finally seemed to understand what Logan had asked, releasing his grip on Roman's vest and turning his upper body to face the other two.

Whatever had happened had happened fast.

Patton's eyes were lidded, glassy, his whole face and body relaxed. He smiled wider at seeing Logan, and when the scholar reached out to get a closer look at his face, the fairy turned to nuzzle into his palm as well. If it was possible, his blush seemed to grow darker red, flushing to the tips of his ears and maybe even down his shoulders.

What the hell?

Logan brushed a thumb over Patton’s cheek, and the fairy shut his eyes completely for a moment; but when Logan pulled his hand away, Patton pouted, and looked to the scholar as if asking what he had done wrong.

“His pupils are excessively dilated.” Logan said, half to himself. The scholar reached out to cup Patton’s cheek once more, and the fairy hummed happily, turning his face into the touch.

“Did we step in something?” Virgil asked, watching Patton’s strange behavior from a distance.

Roman was scanning the area over their heads, when suddenly his eyes widened.

“Virgil, those red flowers in the underbrush. Just next to you. Be careful.” he said lowly.

Virgil looked down where Roman was indicating, and sure enough, there were blood red poppy flowers peeking out. But that wasn’t the worst part.

The flowers were carefully arranged; they’d almost stepped right into a fairy ring. The fastest way into the FaeWilds with absolutely no way back. There were two that lay crumpled, having been crushed under Patton’s foot as he walked.

Logan reached his other hand out to Virgil, who took it and stepped carefully away from the deceivingly innocent flowers. The three moved back carefully, scanning through the underbrush again.

Patton whined at being deprived of Logan’s hand once again, which Roman tried to soothe by bringing the half-fairy’s face back to his chest, muttering, “Hush, tadpole. It’s alright.” There was a long pause between the three, staring at the circle.

“We should get moving,” Virgil said finally, “in case whoever left this here comes back.”

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Logan only had one working theory as to where Patton’s odd behavior had suddenly come from.

A fairy of sufficient power could, theoretically, disrupt whatever spells had been laid on a given fairy ring; the ring was only as strong as the fairy who planted it. And Patton, though reserved about his powers at the best of times, clearly had significant magical ability, especially for being only half-blooded. He’d been slowly gaining confidence and control with Virgil’s help (and the help of other mages they encountered in their travels); even in the early stages of his training, it was becoming more and more apparent to Logan that whomever had been his fae parent, they had to be of incredibly high rank.

So it was entirely possible that, when he had stepped on the flowers forming the circle, Patton had effectively snuffed out the magic there entirely, without even being aware of doing so. And, because he’d been connected to the ring for those few seconds before being thrown backwards by the release of excess magic, he’d absorbed some of it.

To put it in terms Roman would understand, Patton was Magic-Drunk.

Now, Patton walking of his own power back to their camp was entirely out of the question; both because it was clear his sense of balance had been all but obliterated, and because any attempt of Roman's to put him down only elicited upset whining, and that same incredibly broken face that tugged at even Logan's firm heartstrings.

As if Roman were going to abandon him in the woods forever, not just adjust his backpack.

At the same time, Virgil's nervous hovering only increased with each minute. He alternated between frantically scanning the woods around them for assailants and checking up on Patton. It was almost dizzying to watch, and yet also moderately adorable.

Perhaps Logan would admit to being the slightest bit envious of the pair's relationship. Virgil was the only one of their group with whom Patton would allow himself to completely relax, though he was slowly but surely becoming comfortable with Roman and Logan himself. It was slow-going, but well worth the effort.

And yet, here they were, walking through the woods back towards camp, the half-fairy snuggled comfortably into Roman's arms and occasionally softly swinging his feet. Virgil running a gentle hand over his hair every time the mage turned back to check on him.

They were, perhaps, two-thirds of the way back when Logan felt eyes on him; and sure enough, when he looked over, Patton's widened eyes were fixed solely on the scholar, peeking halfway out from his position tucked into Roman's chest. Logan couldn't control the smile that broke out on his face; whether it was from fondness or nervousness at being stared at, he couldn't be sure.

The fairy's face didn't change, however; Patton continued unabashedly staring, as if Logan was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the vicinity.

Really, Logan couldn't help himself.

He ambled closer to Roman, reached over, and softly poked Patton's nose. Just as he'd seen Virgil do, dozens of times previous.

Patton made no sound, but his mouth opened, just a touch, and his eyes crossed to their extremes while trying to look at his nose where Logan's hand had been.

Roman, who had been watching the scene, snickered at the fairy's actions, angling his head down and pressing a light kiss into his hair. The noise then prompted Virgil to turn back, and upon seeing Patton's face broke into his own fond smile.

"What did you do to him?" Virgil asked softly, moving closer to Roman so that their company was now tightly packed against the unaware fairy. The mage waved a hand in front of Patton's face, which at the very least righted the position of his eyes.

"I did nothing." Logan said with a casual smile. "I merely tested a display of physical affection that I have seen you employ several times." The scholar then demonstrated by poking Patton's nose again, this time causing the poor fairy to cross his eyes and slightly tilt his head.

Virgil chuckled as he spoke, "Aww, Pat." He waved a hand once more in Patton's face to refocus his eyes, and it seemed that Patton had tired of the game as he blinked a few times before leaning his head back against Roman with his eyes now shut. "Nothin's goin' on in there right now, is there buddy?"

Virgil smiled fondly anyway, and ruffled Patton's hair for the fifth time that hour.

"Never fear!" Roman said, his voice lowered but tone still excited. "I'm sure we can take excellent care of our dear cupcake in the meantime." The prince adjusted his hold slightly, prompting Patton to curl inwards once more. "With my luck, he probably just needs some time to sleep it off."

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Virgil was really reaching his emotional limit today. First the fear of Patton stepping on a fairy ring, then the fear of what the hell happened, and now having no idea when it would wear off.

And Patton's face, every time Roman tried to set him down. It pulled on Virgil's heart worse than seeing him in the stockade.

They definitely couldn't leave him alone in the carriage or in the tent; if he couldn't see at least one of them, Patton would bury his face in his knees and just shudder with silent crying, and it had taken almost two hours before Roman had managed to coax a few words out of him. He was scared they were going to leave.

They'd propped Patton up at first in one of the bed rolls, and the fairy had watched with a downright creepy silence as the three worked around him. Then Roman had gotten the idea of setting the fairy a little higher, and strung up a (thankfully well secured) makeshift hammock for him to sit in.

Now Patton could see the whole camp, and they'd given him a blanket and pillow in the hopes that he would go to sleep, and maybe be back to normal.

Four and a half hours and counting, and Patton was still higher than a kite.

It was Virgil's turn to sit with him; they'd been rotating every fifteen minutes or so, so everyone could get a chance at getting work done. The mage was just chattering away about anything he could think of, his left arm going numb from reaching up to let Patton hold it.

It wasn't until hour five hit that Virgil got an idea.

The sun was still blazing its highest in the sky, Roman and Logan setting up something to eat for lunch, and thankfully Patton didn't protest when Virgil kissed his hand and let go, running off for a minute to the carriage.

No one was allowed inside Patton's backpack except for Virgil. He wore it constantly when they were traveling, refusing to let go, and Virgil had learned early on that everything inside was carefully organized into different pockets.

The fear of someone taking away all of his possessions ran deep; even if there had been a spell in place protecting anything in his room, apparently anything left outside the little living space had been fair game. Thankfully, Roman and Logan were graciously understanding of the situation.

Still, Virgil was very careful not to disrupt anything as he unbuckled an inner pocket in the bag where Patton's most precious possessions were hidden. From the safety of the very bottom, even hidden under the bag of the fairy's savings, Virgil fished out his prize.

Patton was testing the ropes of the hammock when Virgil returned, idly swaying his body and producing the slightest swinging motion. Virgil couldn't help the soft smile on his face; Patton would be doing that even if he wasn't a little out of his mind.

"Hey Pat, I got you something." Virgil said, leaning in a little. The fairy tilted his head and hummed; words were pretty hard at the moment. Still, Virgil smiled a little wider as he presented the gift; a tiny stuffed puppy that they had shared when they were still kids, a donation from the village that Patton had snatched up as his prize for being especially good one week, and apparently never given up.

The fairy's face lit up, his smile wide and blinding. The first actual smile he had made since being carried around in Roman's arms. And, Virgil noticed, the very tips of his ears twitched just a hair upwards; the surest bet that Patton was extremely excited about something.

"Pup!" he said, almost in disbelief, and Virgil wondered for a moment if the fairy had forgotten the toy existed while in his present state.

Patton presented his open hands and carefully took the pup, cradling it close to his chest.

"I thought he might help you get some sleep," Virgil said softly, watching as Patton nuzzled the top of the puppy's head. "Since he used to be so good at chasing away the bad dreams."

The half-fairy only hummed in response, but that was all Virgil needed for now. While Patton was fixated on the stuffed animal, Virgil very carefully began threading his fingers through his hair, weaving a light spell to make the fairy drowsy.

It took almost instantly; usually Virgil had to work for a few minutes when trying to make Logan or Roman (usually Logan) sleep, and he had to be a lot more sneaky about it. But Patton was already half gone, and to the mage's relief, he was out like a light within seconds.

Logan would probably comment about pushing more into his system when he was already overloaded, but Virgil didn't care if it meant the fairy would sleep. And hopefully wake up normal…

----------

Patton did sleep for several hours, and it was early evening before he woke again.

However, his eyes, and therefore his mental state, seemed unchanged despite the rest; and now he was sitting up in the little hammock he'd been laid in, staring hard at his hands.

At first, Logan thought he might be pondering his family sigil, but as the scholar came closer, the fairy suddenly looked up at him with wide, deeply upset eyes; his dilated pupils almost completely obscuring the iris.

"What's wrong, starlight?" Logan asked, hesitantly using a more affectionate nickname. The words seemed to sail right over Patton's head, however, as he moved both hands and held them up, showing Logan his empty palms.

"Two." The fairy said sadly.

Logan had no idea how to respond to that.

"Yes?" He said, half questioningly, unsure of what to say. It was almost impossible to tell anything that was going on in the fairy's mind at the moment.

His response proved unhelpful, as Patton's eyes became watery, and his lip quivered as he openly, though silently, cried. He moved his hands back, staring down at them.

Well. Time to call for help.

It took some coercion to separate Roman from whatever project he had undertaken in the carriage, but at least Logan's urgency on the matter spurred Virgil into action. The mage spotted his now-sobbing love and immediately moved to his side, kneeling down next to the hammock.

"Hey Pat," he murmured, gently so as not to startle the other. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

Patton neglected to move his head this time, sniffling and repeating the heartbroken "Two," as if that was the answer alone. Virgil took this to mean he wanted to hold hands, but when he reached for both, Patton held them farther away from him, only allowing Virgil to take one.

Ah.

Logan couldn't help the fond smile, although he did try very hard to restrain his laughter. Roman gave the scholar a look, and Logan put a hand behind the Prince's back, moving them both closer to the upset fairy.

Maneuvering himself so that Logan was in between his two currently sober loves, Logan gestured for Roman to take Patton's empty, outstretched hand.

The prince made another face when this seemed to upset Patton even more, but Logan paid him no mind. Instead, the scholar gently took hold of either side of the fairy's face, and bent just slightly to touch their foreheads together.

The tears stopped almost instantly, Patton closing his eyes and seeming to calm, although his breaths were still heavy and watery.

"Easy, starlight. Deep breaths." He said softly, closing his own eyes, running his thumbs tenderly across the apples of Patton's cheeks.

"Hey Lo? Wanna fill us in here?" Virgil asked after a few minutes of silence. Logan smiled once more, brushing noses with Patton and eliciting a hiccup and pleased little hum.

"Our dear heart only has two hands, and there are three of us, creating quite a dilemma indeed." Logan said, fondness and just a touch of sarcasm lacing his words.

Both prince and mage then burst into their own snickering.

Poor Patton would never live this down.

#warcats writes #sanders sides #moxiety #analogince #LAMP #fluff #fantasy au #fae and faeries #fae magic #magically induced high #sanders sides fic #ts fic #Long Road Home

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steampunkserpent27 · 2 years

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Fic Rec

Name: Terms of Endearment Author: charlie_weasleys_gf Rating: Teen

Word Count: 15K Summary: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are assigned to protective duty for Draco and Narcissa Malfoy after the Manor is attacked. Except a mistake in the Auror office *cough* McLaggen *cough* results in Harry and Draco being forced to share a room...and a bed. Tags: Fluff, Angst, Witness Protection, Sharing a Bed, Cooking, Magical Mishaps, Oblivious Harry Potter, Supportive Ron Weasley, Fighting as Flirting, Auror Harry Potter My Thoughts: This fic was an absolute joy to read, it was funny and lighthearted and kept me fully engaged the whole way through. The banter was exquisite. All of the characters were written and handled excellently. The pacing and tense beats were all wonderful. And of course the tension was built perfectly between Harry and Draco. I really recommend this fic if it sounds like something you'd be into it.

Read it on AO3!!

#drarry #drarry rec #fic rec #drarry fic rec #drarry fic #draco x harry #fanfic #fic #harry x draco #ao3 fanfiction #drarry fluff

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northwest-cryptid · 4 months

Note

is it cool if I just say "all of the above" for the poll? would directly say in note but going by fae rules, just.

I know you as the manager, I see and understand your boycotts, and I read your excessive (affectionate) ramblings like the morning news.

it's impossible to define just one box.

That's fair, I anticipated this sort of result honestly; so feel free.

I find it funny because the reason behind that poll is sort of a two fold thing. I was talking to one of my audience member who doesn't use social media; and essentially was explaining how I'm a bit of a nuisance in that if I ever see a post talking about how games are bad about gender customization or weight customization or gender equality; I'll always without fail be the first to jump in like "THEN PLAY MABI!"

I sort of jokingly made a point of mentioning how like, if you go on tumblr, go into the mabi tag, and ask anyone there who knows me who "the mabi guy is" or "who's the idiot who shaved the goddess" they'd likely point you to me without any problem. This isn't a case where I think I'm super popular or anything, there are tons of extremely skilled, genuinely entertaining, and interesting people in that tag. I just happen to be the one who often stands out for being a bit deranged when it comes to the way I engage with the game. With examples of that being how I talk about the frog event, mentioning there's literally no frogs in Erinn, bringing up the idea that if we're really raising a bunch of frogs it's essentially ecoterrorism. Or posting about 3D printing adventures and the mishaps that come with it such as accidentally shaving the goddess and being turned into a meme for it. So it's not that I think I'm some outstanding popular individual who's super cool and everyone knows. It's more so if you walk into the Mabi tag and go "hey where's that fucking idiot who has the weird opinions about frogs" enough people or at least the people who know me will likely point you in my direction like "oh yea that's Velvet/Cryptid."

However I got to thinking about how much I'm likely known for, how I have followers, mutuals, and friends; who I've made from many backgrounds and interests. Some people literally know me as a fellow trans individual, some people know me as a vtuber, some people know me from my obsession with ProjMoon; some people literally only know me because I'm outspoken about Native issues and I boycott popular games loudly.

It made me wonder what people mostly saw me as, or what they knew me for. It also made me wonder if anyone would look at the list and go "what the fuck is half of this?! You did what?! You're who!?" Which admittedly would be really funny to me.

But long answer short, as I said at the start; go for it. Honestly I almost included an "all of the above" option but I thought it would sort of make all the other options null and void. Why bother having all the other options if I just gave people the option of saying "yea you're all of this" but I also understand that for a lot of my mutuals, or people who have known me for a good while now; I AM all of those things. Because the people who know me well or who follow my blog and actually read the things I have to say; much like you're saying here, have a very real understanding of me as a nuanced individual to which all of that applies.

At the end of the day it's not like I can really stop you, nor should I. If I really didn't want people to pick such an option, I'd have simply not included it. My though process behind including "Other" specifically was that it's possible someone follows me for entirely different reasons, maybe someone knows me for entirely different reasons; I didn't want to simply lock them into needing to pick something I personally think I'm known for, when that might not be the case.

I'm not big on numbers, it's why I like Tumblr; no one needs to know how many followers I have and such, but I have quite a number and I realize that it's pretty presumptuous of me to assume I know why each and every one of them followed me. I figured leaving Other in the list wouldn't just allow for individuals to list their own reasons but also to include something more specific like "I know you for 2 of these things" or "I know you for ALL of these things."

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olives-life · 1 year

Text

King of The Apocalypse Review #1

(Chapters 1-242) (inclusive)

So side note, but I refuse to type out the other four names of this everytime I post about it so setting the standard now.

This is honestly more of a rant than a review and I think it’s pretty funny so if you stumble upon this and don’t know anything about King of the Apocalypse maybe you’ll want to read it for me ranting

I was totally meaning to do a review when I hit ch 100, but I was having a shitty day and didn’t want to so here we are (don’t ask how I dragged it out this long because idk)

This is NOT spoiler free

ONTO THE REVIEW:

I have so many things to say and so many questions, a lot of this is less reviewey and more ‘I didn’t want to spam my blog and have to link all the links in the king of apocalypse list page because I dont know how to do the tagging system’. Also I’m writing this based on notes I took in a doc while I was reading.

-Ok so first off our mc?’s name is Qin Yu and his sister, Xiao Yu, who seems more and more like the mc as I keep reading, are stuck in the apocalypse (wow so surprising). I’m not giving all the details because this is not a summary 💀. -So Qin Yu was a level 2A gunslinger before he died in his original timeline. This is super confusing because evolves go through different levels, which are numbered. And circa chapter 150 (honestly I don’t remember the ch just guessing rn) he becomes a level 2 evolver. So is he already around his previous strength or is the 2A gunslinger a different system??? Minor questions that the author prob didn’t put much thought into considering it was only mentioned once. It also could have been a translation mishap, like some things don’t translate so the translators change the words so it makes sense.

-It’s chapter 2 why am i literally like an inch of skirt away from seeing Xiao Yu’s ass??? 😭😭😭. WAS THIS NECESSARY

-So why does Xiao Yu think it’s normal and ok to walk in on her brother naked in the shower to put things in the bathroom and then proceed to offer to wash his back?? SIS HE. IS. NAKED. AND YOUR BROTHER. And Qin Yu is obviously puzzled as why she thinks this is ok but HE AGREES. QIN YU WHAT. 😟🤯🤯🤯🤯. Even if they aren’t related by blood this is weird.

Mickey Mouse this you? 💀🗿 (I just thought this was funny)

-Apparently the evolution materials taste like gummies which is nice to know I guess?? Thanks Xiao Yu.

-Qin Yu had to eat like one evolution material to evolve, but Xiao Yu had to eat ten, at least 2 of which were high quality. So who is really the mc here?

- Why does Xiao Yu not question why Qin Yu knows everything in such detail, she questions it once and he basically says “well... I had a dream”. BITCH YOU DREAMED THE IN DEPTH DETAILS OF THE APOCALYPSE ?? It’s literally apocalypse day one, maybe keep your information to yourself. It’s suspicious that you know this much, you’re lucky your sister is either stupid or has too much trust in you. Otherwise your ass would’ve been killed. Like idk about you but if its the apocalypse and the guy next to me repeatedly says things like “don’t touch the rain you’ll turn into a zombie”, “eat this it will help you evolve”, “how do you feel”, and gives me a person’s past, I would be suspicious, like prove you’re not a zombie or something else thats going to kill me or we’re gonna have to fight this out.

- In ch 29 he has a shield??? He never got some random shield artifact so I’m guessing he did that with his fire, but I'm still confused

-I CAN’T WITH THE RANDOM SIDE CHARACTER HAIRCUTS

exs:

THESE TWO NEED TO PLUCK THEIR MOLE HAIRS LIKE BABE NO 🤢🤢🤢

the ONE hair

THE SHAPE OF THIS GUYS HEAD????

-ok moving on, but there is a lot more I didn't screenshot

-I love manhua so much, I love finding things that make no logical sense, I find it extremely funny;

for example this shelf in chapter 34:

Shelf is upside-down

mc throws shelf

all the products are still in the shelf??

yes that just makes so much sense. and the png shelf 💀💀😭🤌. absolute perfection

-LITTLE BLACK DOING THE OWO FINGERS IN CHAPTER 32 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

he really said Master... I... I cannot fight him😖 👉👈

top 10 reasons little black is in my top 10 characters list

-THESE FITS IN CHAPTER 83

where can I purchase... drop the link 🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲

-I am very much triggered by the fact that Lee Wei’s facial hair is a different color and texture from the rest of his hair. It can’t even be explained away by his hair being dyed, it’s the apocalypse, he has no hair dye.

Why are the right two so tall compared to the rest???? I was laughing when I noticed

-On a more positive note than most of this review / rant (more of a rant than a review really). The author explained dimensional travel really well... ok this is awkward but I can’t find it in the chapter I noted it was in so... I’ll do my best to explain it

Qin Yu called the earth a specific point on a specific page, and parallel galaxies are that same point on a different page. He told Xiao Yu they had to make a hole through the pages to get back to their page.

Idk I understood this really well so if anyone happens upon this and it helps them, yay I did a good thing; ig 🤷‍♀️

-The translation is really shitty rn cuz it’s machine translated (around ch 230); I miss the nonames😭😭😭😭

-Qin Yu casually killed 600 people in around ch 175

-Since Xiao Yu got sister snached by that random alien thing does this mean she is not the mc???

- ok so we know Xiao Yu has a special bloodline and stuff so maybe she wasn’t really immune to the blood rain (the stuff that turned people into zombies originally) in the beginning and it altered her blood?? (credit to a random person on the site I was using to read for bringing up a similar idea)

-Top 10 characters

1. DI SHAOFENG (HES SUCH A HIIMBO ; LOML)

2. Lin Feng (Love a man with dedication 😩)

3. Dao Yi (the daoist ; low-key stupid ; love him)

4. Gao Xiao (the spirit guy from the war gods)

5. Mo Bing (the blue haired mayor of falling snow city in the falling snow dimension (ch 195ish) with the ice powers)

6. Little Black

7. Yang Xinling (the grass guy from the war gods)

8. Wang Xuan (from when the mc went into the ruins where he got Olek) (he's from guy wang city and ch 181) (he literially had 2 appearances but he was dumb and charismatic and I love him)

9. the MC (eh he's ok ig ; i’d be sad if he died tho so he's on the list)

(only top 9 because idc about anyone else rn)

-Review w numbers

(I'll prob think of a better name for this at some point)

Art: I only read things I think have a good artsyle so 9/10

Funniness: 10/10

Plot and Attention to Small Details: 3/10

Cast: 8/10 (I like some characters, but no one stays in the cast except Qin Yu and Xiao Yu)

Objective Rating Without My Biased Love For the Genre and Shitty Comics: 2.5/10

review for chapters 243-486

#dimensional travel ig #I never knew how hard apocalypse was to spell #I still can't spell it #apocalypse wecomic #king of apocalypse #I dont know how to tag anything #webcomic rant #olives.king.of.apocalypse

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chasingpj · 3 years

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

"Bye, for now, puddles."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 6,220

warnings: a little angst, missing a meal, death of a parent, i believe that is all.

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! I'm so excited to finally get this chapter to you guys. I'm sorry this literally took a month. i was taking two writing-intensive courses this summer and i was just burnt out. i hope you enjoy it!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

A grunt escapes you; your contorted body weighs down the top of your suitcase as your damp fingers slip off the metal zipper. The unforgivingly humid weather provokes the heat of your efforts, adding to your discomfort. There’s urgency in your fingers, your frustration growing at each failed attempt to close your suitcase.

“Y/n! Hurry up!” Atticus shouts from outside of the Hermes cabin. As the zipper slips out of your grasp once again, you throw your head back in annoyance, hand coming up to push away wisps of hair that fall on your face. A familiar chuckle comes from the corner of the room, grabbing your attention from the wooden ceiling. Connor sits on the side of his bed; his comic book forgotten beside him as you fussing over your suitcase seems to be more interesting to him.

“It’s not funny,” you grumble, sitting onto your heels.

Connor rises from his bed, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. He kneels by your suitcase, “It’s kinda funny.”

The corners of your mouth almost curve up, but you stop yourself, opting for a roll of your eyes instead.

“What the hades do you have in here?” The tips of his fingers turn white as he pulls on the little piece of metal. You shift your weight to the corner he works on, but it helps him as much as it helped you earlier.

“My brother’s left a bunch of books behind, so Lou Ellen and I split them up. She’s taking half, and I take the rest. We’ll study them and then exchange notes.” A hum of acknowledgment comes from Connor’s lips as he inches the suitcase closed.

“You guys are a bunch of nerds.” You squint at the other with a playful offense, and he laughs at your hardened features. “I bet you guys study more than the Athena Kids,” he teases.

“There’s a lot to learn,” you say simply, watching as he brings the zipper to the end. He leans back on his heels, and you move to take in the half-empty cabin.

The sight of the Hermes cabin being this tidy was foreign. There aren’t any sleeping bags on the floor; the belongings of your many cabin mates didn’t clutter the walls or the corners of the room as they usually do. It’s funny. There are always complaints of the cabin being too small, but it appears bigger without the mess.

“Will you and Atticus visit throughout the year?” Connor’s expression is hopeful. As the last day of camp approached, Connor’s wishes of a full cabin all year round became more apparent. The shift from a max-capacity cabin to a half-empty one must be a tough transition for social people like Stoll Brothers. If it were you, you’d be counting down the days of everyone’s departure.

You ruffle his brown locks, “we’ll probably stop by for, maybe, spring break?” Connor’s hopefulness begins to sag, and you frown. Spring break is pretty far from now, huh? “Depending on how mortal life treats us. You know, we might be back soon,” you add on quickly, hoping to lift his smile.

Though you wish to go home, you’re dreading all the supernatural activity you’ll have to deal with once you leave. Your father works tirelessly to protect the house, but entities always manage to get in. And if they can’t, they don’t mind hanging outside.

The hopefulness that faded from Connor’s face restores, and he gives you that famous mischievous smirk. “Well, I hope the ghosts bother you guys enough to come to visit early.” His tone is playful, but you can tell he meant some of his words. You laugh hesitantly and nod, rising from your suitcase.

“I’m glad you’re that eager to see us again.”

You thank him as he leans down, lifting the heavy suitcase from the ground for you.

“Y/n!”

“I’m coming!” You tug on the handle, glancing at Connor. “The year will go by fast, and soon this cabin will be bursting at the nails with new unclaimed people. Atticus, Lou, and I included. Anyways, you have your brother. You guys will find something to entertain yourselves.” You nudge him as you make your way outside.

“Yeah, you’re right. You will write to me, yeah?” Connor asks.

“Of course. I’ll send you snacks that you can’t buy at the gas station.” Connor’s arm pumps back to his side, hand in a fist as he hisses a “yes.”

The corners up your mouth hesitantly pull up as you push open the cabin door, finding Atticus and Travis talking on the porch. For the past week, the anticipation of your departure was killing you, but now that it was time to leave, you feel gloomy.

You knew the cause of your heavy heart was the uneasy tone of your going. Living day by day with the intention of moving on was hard. Because every time you look at their newly occupied beds, the sinking feeling in your chest returns. Every time you find yourself wandering in the forest, the memories of your often chaotic magic lessons flood your mind. You remember when Alice misaimed her wind spell, shooting Alabaster far into the trees. While you all rushed to check on him, Alice burst into tears because she was convinced she killed him only to approach a laughing Alabaster who shouted, “Right on!”

Every time you were in the Arts and Crafts center, you remember how you, Sage, and Lou would do Tarot Readings for the campers and how you would argue with the Apollo kids when they insisted your tarot cards are as honest as fortune cookies.

At the armory, you remember how Ambrose ran into James so hard, he stumbled and knocked down half of the shelves of weapons.

In the courtyard, you remember how Ernest, horrified by heights, produced the highest pitch scream he possibly could as he rode a pegasus for the first time under the persuasion of Alabaster.

All these memories, whether hilarious like your spell mishaps or bittersweet like when you and your sibling’s group hugged around Sage when she cried about her abusive stepmother, held a special place in your heart. Because the times where you laughed and cried together reminded you of the genuine bond, the family that was ripped away from you overnight.

“We'll see you guys soon. We should go. Argus will leave without us," Atticus says, relieved that Argus is still waiting for you on top of Half-Blood Hill.

“Have a safe trip, guys,” Travis says, patting Atticus’s shoulder before reaching out his arm and giving you a short side hug. You grab your things, hastily saying a final goodbye, and soon, you and Atticus are trudging up the hill.

Your free hand pats the pocket of your shorts, calming your worry of forgetting the necklace at the cabin. What rests in your pocket is a raw tourmaline crystal, now smooth with the help of Beckendorf, encased in a silver spiral cage.

You and Atticus carry protection crystals all the time, and they help with staying out of the radar of monsters and entities. After hearing Percy’s many stories of monsters bothering him, you figured he couldn’t be too cautious. Then after finding a spell in Alabaster’s many books that can dim down a demigod scent for a while, you decided to make him an enchanted necklace to wear.

You pack into the truck with Atticus right on time. Atticus sits in front of you, chatting away with Cecil as you make yourself comfortable in the back row with Ambrose. You frown; among the three other campers in the van with you, Percy isn’t one of them. Argus peeks into the back, doing a rough headcount. Great, now you’ll have to wait until next summer to give it to him.

Right, when you were going to chastise yourself for not giving him the necklace yesterday when you were done with it, a distant voice shouts, "wait!"

Argus halts in the middle of closing the sliding down and turns around. He shakes his head with disapproval while opening the door all the way, revealing out of breath Percy.

A smile widens across your face as he gets into the back seat with you, and you nudge Atticus’s seat.

"See, I told you we wouldn't be the last ones here.” You side-eye Percy, seeing the corners of his mouth pull up in amusement.

“Some people just don’t know how to get to places on time, huh?” Atticus says, and his eyes flicker to Percy before giving you a wide grin.

“Didn’t sleep in today, firefly?” There is a playfulness in Percy’s voice, and you smile proudly,

“Nope, not today.”

“It’s a miracle,” Percy mutters, loud enough for you to hear, and you scoff. Atticus snickers and nods in agreement.

“We were supposed to gang up on him, not you two on me.” You stick your tongue out at Atticus, and he returns the action.

“It’s more fun making fun of you,” Atticus teases.

“Rude,” you mumble with a slight smile on your face. The two boys chuckle, Atticus turning more into his seat to tell Percy something about a new Marvel movie. Excited voices fill the van as the other boys join in the conversation, and soon they are debating if Batman is really a superhero or just a rich guy in a suit.

You had to admit, as the conversation became more passionate, you were pretty entertained, but as you catch sight of Camp Half-Blood growing farther in the distance, you’re reminded of the ache in your chest. It’s only a temporary leave, but when you return, things will never be the same, and the false hope of your siblings returning has been proven to be foolish.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

Following a ghost dog while weaving through the hustle and bustle of Grand Central is almost impossible. Atticus’s hand is latched to the straps of your bookbag as you move through people, trying not to roll your eyes at the way Ambrose turns to bark as if he was reprimanding you for being too slow. Easy for him to say when he can walk through walls and people.

“Track 28,” Atticus reminds you as your eyes find the number written on the tan bricks of the high walls. You make a sharp left towards the entrance of another hallway, ignoring the groans of a grouchy bystander that you may have cut off. The next hallway you enter is a lot less crowded than the main floor, and you slow down your pace.

“Where do you guys live again?” Percy asks as he jogs up beside you. He had insisted on walking you guys since his train departs in the same station.

“Sleepy Hollow.” Percy scrunches his face as if he recalls something, and you smile, waiting for the question everyone asks when you say you live there.

“Have you seen the headless horsemen?” Percy asks, half-joking. A snort leaves your throat, and you look at Atticus, who’s equally amused.

“Oh yeah, plenty of times.”

“Really?” Percy asks, his eyes wide with surprise, and you laugh.

“No.” Your response makes his face drop comedically fast, and Atticus bursts into laughter. “It’s just a story, but there’s a lot of history there, so the place is crawling with ghosts. We’ve met the guy who wrote the story, though,” you mention.

“No way,” Percy squints his eyes in disbelief.

“I’m serious! Atticus and I take walks in the cemetery sometimes. We leave drachmas on the graves of newly passed people, so their venture into the underworld is smooth, but some people like to wander.” You shrug. “Washington Irving is one of those people.”

“Cool,” Percy says with such enthusiasm that it makes you smile. Ambrose turns around and barks again, standing at the golden entrance that leads to the grey tunnel lit with fluorescent white lights where your train waits beside the concrete platform.

“He always rushes us,” Atticus complains, and Harvey lets out a coo that sounded close to a groan as if he agreed with him.

The marble floors turn to concrete as you enter the tunnel. The blue and silver train on your left hums as it sits dormant in its station. Ambrose trots ahead, peaking into the doors and windows to find an empty cart to occupy.

As you follow a few feet behind him, your fingers fiddle with the necklace resting in your pocket. You’re regretting not giving it to Percy earlier because, for some reason, the idea of giving it to him now was more intimidating than if you had done it earlier on the bus.

Ambrose decides on a cart, and Harvey jumps off Atticus’s shoulder, squealing happily as he follows the hound while completely ignoring a worried Atticus trailing close behind.

"I, uh, made this for you," you sputter, the words coming out fast like vomit. Your fingers pull out the crystal necklace abruptly, and you put it in the palm of his hand. "It's black tourmaline. It has protective qualities; good at keeping negative energy, negative auras, things like that. I put a spell on it to dim down your demigod scent for a while, so you catch a little bit of a break. It'll last for a few weeks, maybe a month or two if the spell caught on well."

You bite your lip as Percy studies the necklace resting in his hand. "Wow, really? Thank you, Y/n. This is great.”

Nervous, you shift on your feet under his bright, smiling orbs. "It's no problem. After everything that happened at camp, I think it’ll be good for you to have one.”

Percy nods, his features softening all of a sudden, and he shifts. “Thanks for protecting me,” he says, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Getting rid of that thing became more than you expected. I felt bad that I couldn’t help. Swords aren’t really useful when it comes to demons, huh?”

A small laugh of agreement leaves your lips. “It was nothing. I wasn’t going to let you be tormented by that thing if I could help it.”

An announcement echoes in the hall, reporting the departure of your train in a few minutes. You glance over, catching Atticus, Ambrose, and Harvey with their noses practically pressed against the window as they witness your interaction with Percy. The amused smirk on Atticus’s face makes you roll your eyes; he’s definitely going to tease you when you get on the train.

"I should go.” You face Percy again, catching him securing the necklace around his neck. The stone rests a few inches under his camp half-blood necklace. "Thanks for walking us here. Be careful getting home."

"You too…” he trails off, noticing your brother looking out the window. For a second, he seems as embarrassed as you do and a nervous chuckle leaves his lips. “Your brother is waiting."

“He’s so annoying,” you complain, and Percy’s next chuckle doesn’t sound as hesitant this time. "Well, uh, bye, for now, puddles,” you tease, butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"Bye, for now, firefly."

You both awkwardly wave at each other before you turn around, getting on the train with Atticus. With your gaze fixed on the floor, you plop into the seat next to him. You don’t even need to look to know he is smiling teasingly at you.

"How cute,” he teases, nudging your shoulder repeatedly with his own.

"Ew, shut up.” You shove at his shoulder, your nose scrunching as he flails his arms against yours as if you were fighting. Atticus chuckles and a string of sounds come from your familiars as they join in to tease you, and you couldn’t help but laugh too.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

The suburban streets of your neighborhood are filled with the chirps of birds and bugs and the sounds of cars that pass every once in a while. There isn’t much conversation between you and Atticus as you trudge up the hill leading to your dead-end street.

“Gods, I hope we can get inside without being seen,” you manage to say through your heavy breaths, lazily holding on to the handle of your suitcase as it rolls behind you. Ambrose’s nose nudges the back of your knees as if to encourage you, but it’s more cute than helpful.

“There’s no way that we are. Janie and Celia are always sitting on the neighbor’s porch.” You grunt in acknowledgment, knowing that Atticus is right. The neighborhood ghosts are friendly enough, but their company can be annoying.

As if on cue, you hear a delighted squeal from ahead the moment you reach the top of the hill. Two ladies wave their handkerchiefs in the air a handful of houses away.

Celia, the tallest of the two, wears a steel blue dress with a high neckline and a big bow tied on the base of her neck. She has a jacket button closed over her corset with a frill at the end of her sleeves. Her skirt is floor-length and complete, with ruffles cascading down its entirety. And, of course, no one can miss the high-crowned hat decorated with fake flowers, bows, and crimped fabric as it all sits on top of her blonde hair in an intricate updo. Janie, her sister, wears the same style of dress and headpiece only in a burgundy red. The resemblance between the two makes it clear that they’re siblings close in age. They have the same high pinched noses that jut in the air; both of their faces are regal like those in renaissance paintings.

You’ve seen them around for as long as you can remember. They were two sisters who died of scarlet fever a year before their first courting season, which was a big deal according to their constant moaning and groaning about it.

You look ahead, your expression blank as if their high-pitched voices didn’t fill the streets and they weren't racing toward you with their skirts in their hands.

“My word! It’s the end of summer already?”

“Atticus, you’ve grown taller!”

“What a handsome boy! Y/n, your shorts are too short, don’t you think?”

“It’s quite bizarre how such clothing is acceptable these days.”

“How beautiful you’d look in a gown like ours!”

“Where’s Alabaster?” Janie asks, attempting to circle her arm around Atticus’s, but he raises his arm to push back his damp hair to avoid the contact. She scoffs at his rejection and sighs.

“Alabaster was sweeter to us than you guys!” Celia pouts. Your heart sinks a little at the mention of him. Of course, they’d ask about him, and of course, your father will ask too.

Gods! Your father will ask about him.

You had forgotten you’d have to break the news today. These past few weeks, you debated whether or not you should do it by letter, but it felt wrong. It was only right that he’d find out in person.

“We know you can hear us,” Janie huffs.

“I hope dad doesn’t work late tonight. Do you think Grandma will be waiting for us?” You ask. As annoying as it was having spirits follow you, it was a little fun ignoring them when convenient for you. Atticus nods,

“Probably-”

“No one’s home,” Celia cuts in, and Atticus pretends to shoo a bug away to conceal that he paused from her interruption.

“But I don’t think dad is going to take long. He said his last lecture ended at three,” Atticus continues, and you nod.

‘I hope grandma came by to visit. I missed her.”

“I just said no one’s home.” Celia snaps, and you press your lips together to hide your smile.

Atticus sighs. “I know, I’m dying for those moon cookies she makes us.” At the mention of those cookies, your stomach grumbles. You hope Celia was wrong because you’re suddenly craving your grandmother’s cooking and her company. Her funny stories and voice that’s always a little too loud for the indoors never fails to cheer you up. As short and frail as she is, her voice and personality could fill a room.

“Me too,” you say shortly.

“Hello?!” Celia waves her handkerchief in your face, and you persisted in ignoring her. Suddenly, a sound of disgust comes from Janie as she brushes off her skirt.

“Y/n, retrieve this monster of yours!” She squeals as Ambrose bites the fabric of her dress, tugging on it with a growl.

“Damn this dog,” Celia shouts, attempting to shoo him away, but yelps in surprise as Ambrose snaps his jaw shut near her hand. “Get this thing under control! Y/n!”

Your hand comes up to cover your smile even though the two are shuffling behind you and a stifled chuckle comes from Atticus. The sound of Janie’s heels on the concrete becomes louder as she rushes beside Atticus again, and your smiles drop. The sight of your house comes into view, and you tilt your head confused; your father’s car is parked in the driveway.

“You said no one was home?” You say out loud, and Celia gasps beside you,

“Now you speak to me?” She snaps, halting as you approach the fence. She stands tall, hands folded in front of her elegantly as Janie’s expression is gleaming like a child on Christmas. “Your father requested to keep it a secret, so I obliged his wishes. He canceled his last lecture today to make you both a meal. What a lovely man.”

Your hand finds the latch for the white picket fence as you smile at the familiar narrow victorian-style house ahead of you. A path of cobblestone leads you to the brick steps of the small porch.

Your home sticks out from the more modern American houses that surround the area. It’s an antique, a snippet of history, as your father likes to say. The house is a russet brown only because the bricks are so old they’ve darkened in color. The house accents such as the window trims, porch overhang, and columns are copper, and the hipped roof has brown tiles that look like fish scales. Beside the porch, the bay windows from both stories stack on top of each other, and above the porch roof is the dormer that’s a part of your bedroom.

Gods, you’re yearning to be in your room. You just want to pull out your Murphy bed from the wall and bury yourself in your sheets. The idea of being in bed puts a pep in your step, and you are careful to avoid the salt ring that surrounds your house.

A butterfly passes by your face, flying to the bunchberry bushes your father has planted in the front garden. Among the grass, there are various flowers and herbs that your father grows in the summer. You’ve inherited many things from your father, but his green thumb isn’t one of them. He takes his gardening seriously while you can barely keep the cacti in your room alive.

“Enjoy your meal! Come talk to us one of these days. We missed you two!” Janie shouts after you as you make your way up the stairs. You turn around, Atticus smiling at them.

“We missed you, girls, too,” he says as if he didn’t want to admit it. Janie squeals something about how handsome his smile is, and you scoff, amused as you grab the doorknob.

Once you push the door open, you're hit with a rush of deja vu. The history channel plays faintly in the next room as you take in the home you’ve missed dearly.

There are two bookshelves against the wall on your right, a wide ledge with pillows under the bay windows. A messy coffee table filled with letters and stacked with books sits in front of the comfy reading nook, letting you know that your father was recently hanging out there.

There is a brown mahogany staircase that ascends upstairs to your left, and right beside it is the altar for your mother. A statue of her rests in the middle of the rectangle table covered in a black table cloth. On top of it lies the many offerings for your mom. Herb-dressed candles burn beside bowls of fruit, bouquets, a crystal enamel wine glass filled with alcohol, feathers, and other things. You ignore the altar as you put down your stuff beside the door, following Atticus as he takes off his shoes.

“Kids?” You hear your father call enthusiastically from beyond the foyer, and you persist forward into the entryway ahead of you.

“We’re home!” Atticus announces as he enters beside you. Ambrose barks making a beeline to the right and behind the kitchen counter. He jumps on your father with so much force he stumbles back.

“Gods! Why does he look even bigger?” Your father exclaims through a laugh, fixing the round glasses that threaten to slip off his nose as his other hand grips Ambrose’s paw. He yelps in surprise as Harvey's claws rest on top of his head, clinging to his hair to steady himself.

The warmth and smell of home fill your senses as you catch your dad’s gaze. “Well, come here! Are you going to hug your pops or what?”

You rush over with Atticus. Both of you hug your dad tightly on either side of him, and you smile as he presses a kiss on your temples. “I missed you guys so much!”

“We missed you too!” The smile on your face falters as he looks up, scanning the archway as if he was waiting for someone else. You shift, not ready to be faced with the question, and you peer around his body to look at the food on the stove behind him.

Your father notices your interest, and he chuckles. “Come on, let’s eat. You guys came right on time.”

You shuffle through the kitchen with Atticus, making your way to the rounded table at the end of the kitchen.

“Dad, what have you been up to?” Atticus asks teasingly, and your father perks up.

“I've done a lot of things to keep me busy. I volunteered to teach summer classes while you were gone. I’m reading this book with a fascinating perspective of the shift from Paganism to Christianity in Rome. It’s an amazing read; I highly recommend it. Though, I don’t quite agree with it.” Your father hums thoughtfully. “Oh! And I bought gnomes for our garden! And the thrift store had this little house and this old lady figurine! I put it on the porch. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but she’s the official guard of the door," he declares proudly. "And…” He twists and turns before heading to the bookshelves in the living room area. He grabs something from the shelf then he showcases a cartoon Dobby bobblehead with wide arms. A high-pitched cackle leaves his lips. “It completes our collection!”

“Woah! Where did you get it? We went to three different places for it, and we couldn’t find it.” Atticus matches your father’s excitement, and you snort at the two.

“I went to a mythology convention in Boston a few weeks ago. There was a game stop across the street from the center, and I thought, ‘why not?’ I went in, and I saw this little guy by the register.” Your father is giddy as he nudges the head and watches it jiggle in his hands.

You think of what your grandmother’s reaction would be if she saw all the things he bought on his trip to the thrift store. She’d definitely complain. She always said that even growing up, your father had a liking for knickknacks. On your shelves and counters, there are always little trinkets lying around. It even extends to the walls, a variety of paintings and diagrams are neatly hung beside each other. From the state of your house, it’s clear your father is a maximalist in its purest definition.

“Wow! That’s awesome!” Atticus reaches out his hand for it as your father brings over his entire collection of Harry Potter bobbleheads, the toys huddled in his chest before he places them on the dining table. “The whole gang can hang out with us for dinner.”

“I hope they like pasta,” Atticus comments, lining them up as your dad retrieves the pan of food.

Your stomach grumbles at the sight, and you’re quick to serve yourself as Atticus and your Dad talk about anything and everything. You guys discuss what your grandmother has been up to, how your father’s classes were going, which led your father to ramble so much he formed a tangent on top of another. The conversation was going so well that you were sure he wouldn’t ask about your summer, but you had assumed too soon.

“So enough about me! How was Camp?” Your father chirps, and you shift in your seat.

You smile with confidence to hide the wariness you felt. “It was great!” You figured if you keep your answer short, you could move past it quickly.

“Yeah, the usual. Fun as always,” Atticus adds.

Your father’s eyes flicker between the two of you, and the first thing he notices is the way your smiles don’t reach the rest of your face.

The clanging of metal utensils on glass plates fills the room as the both of you fixate on your food but neither take a bite. The camp was never a touchy subject. The sudden unwillingness to speak about it makes his eyebrow cock up in suspicion. His eye averts to the empty dining chair beside you and the dinner place settings that remained untouched. Alabaster was supposed to join your return home. At least, that’s what he had assumed.

“Did Alabaster decide to stay at his foster home?” There’s caution in his tone, and he’s taken aback at how both you and Atticus tense up. The clings of metal halt abruptly, and slowly, you move to glance at your father.

“Dad, something happened at camp this summer.” Now, it was your turn to have a tone laced with caution. Alabaster lived with you for months and quickly became a part of the family. Your father saw him as his second son, and you were afraid to break the news that he may never see him again.

“What happened? Did he get into trouble?” You frown at the sudden edge in his voice. Atticus shifts beside you,

“He took the others to go fight for the Titan Lord.”

“What?”

“Mother came to speak to him and told him that it was best to fight for the other side since their chances are better,” you say slowly. “They left at the end of July. Only Atticus, Lou Ellen, and I stayed at camp.”

Your father’s expression darkens, grief written all over his face. “And you haven’t seen them since?”

You shake your head, not wanting to delve into the details. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing them again in a while and not in the best circumstances.” Your father nods, understanding the implication in your words. “Mother promised that she’d take care of them if they fight for the other side. I didn’t want to go; it wasn’t right.”

“That must be why everything is rotting,” your father mutters more to himself. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Rotting? What’s rotting?”

“Our offerings to your mother,” he clarifies. “All the fruit I leave on her altar goes bad in a few days. The flowers wither quickly too. The garden, in general, hasn’t been doing well either. I didn’t understand why.”

Your focus returns to your plate. Suddenly, you weren’t that hungry anymore.

She must be angry, you think to yourself. A part of you wanted a sign from her to let you know if she was bothered you didn’t join. When the sign didn’t come, you assumed she didn’t care; that, in a way, you were dead to her. It didn’t dawn on you to ask how the altar or the garden your father dedicated to her was doing.

“Can I be excused?” You strain, your face a little hot, and you’re not sure if it was from your anger or from the tears you’re blinking away.

“Of course.” The warm smile on your father’s face fails to budge the dread you’re feeling. “You can be excused as well, Atticus.”

You miss the way your father and Atticus exchange looks as you stood up. There wasn’t a verbal agreement, but Atticus stands up tall, determined to make you feel better. He trails behind you, and suddenly, he slings his arm across your shoulders. “You know what’s one of the things I missed at camp?”

“What?” You ask, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in your chest.

“Beating you at Tekken,” Atticus teases. Your lips curve slightly; his playful nature manages to brighten up your mood a little bit. “Let’s play. I’ll go easy on you, but I’m sure you’ll still lose regardless.”

“You’re on,” you nudge him, and Atticus chuckles, walking ahead of you and up the stairs. Your hand grips the railing, and you walk up a few steps before halting, and your eyes find the front door.

“You don’t get it!”

“I don’t.” You shrugged, amused at the way Atticus’s eyebrows knitted in disbelief. He ignored you, grabbed the remote, and played the Star Wars movie again. You groaned, seeing the slanted letters move up the TV screen. “Atticus! I can’t watch this!”

“Why not?!”

“Well, first off, my dyslexia won’t let me read that quickly, and if a physically written prologue is needed before a movie… it’s not a good movie!”

“How dare you!” You threw your head back as a laugh bubbled in your throat. The exasperated look on his face was too funny. You had no desire to watch these movies, and you figured if you bothered him enough, he’d give up trying to show them to you. The shrug of your shoulders made him scoff. “Just watch it!”

A huff left your lips, and unwillingly, you returned your gaze to the screen. Suddenly, a hollow knock came from the front door.

“It’s late,” you said, but Atticus was too caught up in the beginning battle of the movie to pay any mind to you. Rarely did you get visitors, definitely not past midnight on a Friday. Cautiously, you rose from the couch and moved toward the door.

Rain erratically hit against your curtain-covered windows; the wind and cold made the walls around you creak as they adjusted. Whatever waited for you at the door, you just wished it was a person, not a weird ghost or monster. Your finger latched on the side of the curtain, allowing you to peek through the glass of your front door.

A gasp left your lips. Alabaster, soaked from the ruthless rain outside, was the last person you expected to see. But even though you didn’t expect him, you had an inkling as to why he was here.

Hastily, you unlocked the door and flung it open. “Al?” You sputtered; his green orbs were surrounded by tired eyes and puffy skin.

“He died this morning,” he strained. Your expression softened, and before you could say anything, Alabaster stepped forward and hugged your shoulders tightly. The raggedness of his breath, the shutter of his body, sent your chest a weight of sorrow. You couldn’t imagine being in his shoes and losing your father to a long battle with cancer at 14. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes; the person you looked up to the most was breaking down. You never thought he would need your help for anything, but it seems that you were wrong. “I’m sorry. You guys live the closest to me, and I didn’t know where to go-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted. “Oh, Al, I’m so sorry,” your voice cracked, hands rubbed his back as a sob left his lips. A creak of a floorboard caught your attention, and you turned to see a confused Atticus emerging from the living room. With a sad look, he understood what happened, and soon his expression was mimicking yours.

“I’ll wake dad and get clothes,” he said, then rushed upstairs.

Your father didn’t even hesitate to help Alabaster, opening the doors of your house to him. In his greatest time of need, the three of you stood beside him, and overnight, he had a place in your home and in your heart. The three of you spent so much time playing video games, getting into trouble around town, learning magic. All the good times you and Atticus shared with him, were they really worth throwing away to fight with Kronos? You realize now that his departure was never only a betrayal to the camp but to you, Atticus, and your father, and you couldn’t help but think perhaps, you guys didn’t mean as much to him as he meant to you.

A shaky sigh leaves your mouth at the thoughts persistent to ruin your mood. The desire to leave camp was to avoid all the things that reminded you of your siblings, but now that you returned home, you realize that running away isn’t as easy as you thought.

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if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

#percy jackson and the olympian fic #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x you #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fic #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n #my writing #percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction

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bonos-grindcore-sideproject · 2 years

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✨Unconventional Writer’s Ask✨

— How long have you been writing fanfiction?

Not sure, but sometime around 1990 I wrote a story in which the B52's travel the length of Route 66 (or Highway 61?) to confront and ultimately defeat Satan, who has possessed the body of a Republican frat boy and is attempting to destroy the world from the kid's basement rec room. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but it was a long time ago. No ships or anything, but I might have been a minor character. I didn't know fanfiction was even a thing. I was just trying to entertain two specific friends.

— Do you have a favorite word? (One that you love. Doesn’t necessarily have to be one you use all the time.)

Not a favorite, but I like the sounds of certain words. Here's one: riparian.

— Share a favorite run-on sentence that you’ve written.

From Boy:

I’m far away from the fat ladies and the pretty girls and the children who run in the sand like little birds and I’m far away even from the smell of chips and the ice cream bells and I think I might have actually walked to the end of the world.

— Share a bit of a scene that you’ve written that still gives you FEELS.

From The Monster Words:

I hold you close and feel your chest rising and falling, the breath going in and out of your tough little body, stirring a stray lock of hair that's fallen over your cheek. I can see you in my mind's eye, about thirty years younger, shoving your hair back behind your ears a little roughly, because hair was just a fact of life back then, and there was no need for you to be gentle with it. Ah, sweetheart.

“Monsters,” I whisper, naming them, acknowledging them. “Stay out of this room. You have no business here.”

And I kiss the top of your head, just as if you were a child of mine.

— What is your favorite kind of character interaction to write?

Banter. Nothing makes me happier than having my OTP go on for the equivalent of several pages as if they're a comedy duo, either giving each other a hard time or just doing observational shit about their highly specific Situation.

— Do you have a hyper-specific genre?

I really don't even know what the genres are. I mostly do one-shots, or as we called them in my MFA program, short stories. :P

— Any personal or frequently used tags?

Not really, though once in a while I'll throw in something like "French dudes" or "namechecked politician."

— Share a joke or funny moment that you’ve written that still makes you laugh.

This fake newsheadline/subheadline combo, which incorporates lyrics:

He Falls Down: Old Fart Bono In Traction Again after Bathtub Mishap “He broke himself,” says doc

— Best editing tip?

This is hard and I mostly don't practice what I preach, BUT: Try not to edit as you write. Just write. Once you've got the bulk of the fic written, you can go back and edit a zillion times if you want to.

— What drives you to write?

This isn't specific to fanfiction, as I do write other things. But absolutely it is a way to keep verbalizing about my obsessions without haranguing anyone who doesn't want to hear it. This has been the case since I was a kid. I have always been obsessed with something, and I've always written. This is what makes me happy, and I don't even understand not having obsessions. (Why I've been on tumblr for 10 years in midlife.)

— Where do you draw inspiration?

Music, obviously. Comedy. Conversations with friends. Reading a book that's particularly well-written and wanting to apply that same level of quality and detail to a fic about two dadrock men in love. :P

— What is your immediate reaction when you receive a new comment on a fic?

"It's about time" and/or "Thank God."

— What is your biggest challenge in writing?

The part where I have to write.

— 1-2 sentence preview from your current WIP?? (Only if you are willing.)

I don't have one at the moment! Got very busy with day job and of course with achtoonbaby.com. (Shameless plug.)

— What story or scene are you most proud of?

I am still most proud of Boy, despite having written a lot of stuff subsequently. While it's not historically accurate, I did write it in a kind of fever dream where I felt I was really channeling my protagonist. We'll see if that's the case when his memoir comes out.

— Please link your profile so we can admire your works!

It me

Thank you @breathinginthissilencecence for the ask. I shall tag... @jeevey and @iinchicore!

#Tagged in a thing!#This one was a challenge. :)

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caffeineforbucky · 3 years

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As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

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monsterfuneral · 4 years

Text

sparks in the rain | bill and ted | ch. 2

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Coming Soon

Relationship: Poly!Bill and Ted x Fem!Reader

Summary: A malfunction with the booth lands Bill and Ted into the most peculiar situation they’ve been in, stuck in the year 2021 standing in front of a woman they never thought they’d meet.

Words: 1.5

Warnings/Tags: nothing

Author’s Note: After like actually outlining this a little more, I think this story will end up being one of my favorites I’ve written.

REQUESTS OPEN | MASTERLIST

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

This was the most unusual day for both Bill and Ted. Sure they had experienced mishaps with the booth, and sure they had also met people that they vaguely knew about. But they had never met someone that knew about them. Especially when it came to an on screen babe like Armageddon Lady, who had totally been Bill’s biggest crush for a majority of his teenage years. Not that he’d admit that to anyone other than Ted though. And here she was in the weirdest of coincidences, standing right in front of them.

“What?” Ted asked dumbly as he heard the girl in front of them blurt their names. His brain struggled to keep up with the situation.

“Dude she totally knows who we are somehow!” Bill said with an almost starstruck look on his face, his eyes sparkling in amazement.

You stayed silent though, staring at them like a deer in the headlights. Your mouth agape as you, like Ted, tried to process what you was going on. While running into celebrities in the middle of your apartment complex was one thing that would never happen, seeing two movie characters that you liked standing just seven feet away from you was next to impossible… No it was impossible.

You had to be dreaming still. A very vivid dream where you were going to the crafts store to pick up a new set of markers, before suddenly running into Bill and Ted of all people... In a dream. There was literally no other logical explanation.

“Woah, you look like you’re going to hurl, Miss. Armageddon Lady, dude- babe.” Bill stumbled on his words like a nervous child talking to his first crush. Which honestly wasn’t far from the truth.

“I- This isn’t real.” You concluded, finally removing your hand from inside of your purse and straightening your back. You were almost tempted to just turn around and walk back into your apartment, but you didn’t. Instead you thought over the jumbled words Bill had said to you, something sticking out more than anything else. “Why do you keep calling me that?” You asked, your brows drawing together as you looked at the blonde for answers who looked at you with widened eyes.

Ted suddenly remembered something Rufus had told them not too long ago, alternative universes and whatnot, where things are different from their world but can also connect somehow. He talked about how sometimes the booth can malfunction and send them rocking into another circuit without them even noticing. That’s probably how they ended up here!

“Bill... I don’t think we’re in our world anymore.” Ted chimed before Bill could even attempt to come up with a sufficient answer that would satisfy you.

“What?” Bill asked, looking up at Ted.

“Yeah! Remember the thing Rufus told us a few months back?”

“Don’t over-tighten the guitar strings because they could break?” Bill answered, bringing up an entirely different conversation they had with Rufus.

Ted shook his head looking behind his shoulder and to the still sparking booth “No dude! The whole alternate dimension thingy.”

“OH YEAH!”

You watched the both of them converse, your own brain still trying to catch up with the bizarre situation, still not entirely convinced this wasn’t a dream. You tried pinching your arm a few times, at least testing it out to see if that trick even worked, but you were still standing in the same place right in front of them. It was all so much to process at once and so early in the day, even though it may have been 11am, it was still too much.

“So you really didn’t put in the wrong number then.”

“I told you so Bill!”

They paused, smiling at each other before both shouting “Excellent!” in unison before air guitaring. The action was all too familiar but unfortunately missed the overlapping guitar that would play when they did it. Both boys stared at each other for a second afterwards, beaming smiles still ontheir faces. Their stare lasted a beat longer than you were used to seeing on screen.

A shiver wracked through your body, the jacket you had not shielding you from the cold that the rain brought like you had hoped it would. You clutched your arms, pulling them a little tighter to your chest. It only continued to solidify the fact that this was probably real and not a dream at all, like you had thought. I mean, sure you had considered the possibility of fictional universes being real, who hasn’t? But it was just a theory you played into half-heartedly but never considered it to actually be true.

A hand waved in front of your face, jolting from your deep train of thought where everything you previously thought was impossible could be and it was just too much. Reality as you knew it was both expanding and collapsing all at the same time.

“You good, other dimension babe?” Bill asked, a small smile on his face as you stared at him with wide eyes.

Ted tilted his head as he watched you curiously. Sure you looked like Armageddon Lady and her actress, but you were neither, you just looked like them. He had an easier time accepting this as a reality than you did though, already having his experience with the impossible. But you looked like you were about to explode from the overload of information. He felt sympathetic. He thought back to a conversation he had with Rufus a year after their first time traveling in the booth, remembering how Rufus told him how he had seen others cope with the discovery of time travel, how some people just could not handle the information and it literally drove them to insanity. Ted would feel like such a dick if that happened to you, even if he didn’t know you.

“I-” You started, abruptly stopping as you tried to piece your words together “I think so?” You clutched the strap to your purse a little harder, blunt nails digging into the leather slightly “This is all just… A lot to process.”

“That’s okay!” Ted reassured softly with a wide grin, his hair falling in front of his eyes slightly as he nodded and looked down at Bill who was also nodding along.

Your fingers were starting to feel numb and you shifted on your feet for the first time since you were stopped in your tracks. Your knees felt stiff from not moving for so long and you were shaking a lot more than you thought, the cold starting to deep into your bones and making your teeth chatter. You were sure they weren’t feeling any better as they were both wearing short sleeved shirts, and Bill was wearing a crop top.

“I know you guys don’t know me but it’s freezing out here and it’s supposed to get colder.” You said looking back at your apartment door, trying to draw your coat closer around you “Would you like to come inside? I can make some coffee-” You watched Bill pull a face at the mention of the bitter beverage “Or some hot chocolate, up to you.”

“Sounds great.” Ted answered, glancing behind him once more at the booth before back at you, “Lead the way!”

The warmth of your apartment was more welcoming than the quickly dropping temperature outside. The rain clouds had left the sky dark and your living room was close to being pitch black. You carefully maneuvered past the couch and over the bean bags that were carelessly strewn across the floor in front of the TV stand. You felt for the pull-chain underneath the lamp shade, the black tassels tickling against your forearm. Finally your fingers grasped around the thin chain, gently yanking it and letting the light finally fill most of the room. The large leg lamp glowed on the small table tucked in the corner of your living room. A lovely gag gift you had been rewarded on christmas a year or two before at a friend’s party. While A Christmas Story was very much an overplayed movie on the holiday’s and certainly not your favorite, you still enjoyed the gift. Finding it pretty cool that someone had gone through the effort of getting something like this as the winner’s gift.

“Woah...” One of the boy’s muttered from behind your couch. You turned around and gave them a small smile, walking over to the other side of the living room to turn on the other lamp so the room was fully lit up and you weren’t going to trip over your own feet by accident.

“Pretty neat huh?” You asked, always finding people’s reactions to the infamous lamp rather funny.

They both looked at you simultaneously, their eyes sparkling in wonder.

“You’re so cool…” Ted whispered.

You let out a quiet laugh, trying to push down the heat that had suddenly started to rise up your neck, to your cheeks, and finally finishing at your ears. Never in your life did you think you could be receiving praise from Ted Theodore Logan himself. This really felt like it was too good to be true.

“Thanks.” You replied, turning your back to them so they didn’t catch on to your flustered state. “So, how about that hot chocolate?” You asked, walking over to the white cabinet that held your collection of mugs.

#bill bnt #ted bnt #bill and ted #bill s preston x reader #bill s preston imagine #bill s preston esquire #ted theodore logan x reader #ted theodore logan imagine #ted theodore logan #bnt imagine #bnt x reader #monster writes

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primergon · 3 years

Note

Hi! I’ve seen you doing matchups in the tags I follow, and I just saw your most recent ones and I was really impressed by your dedication to doing them. It’s clear you really put in a lot of effort and care into each one, which is really amazing. I’ve never been compelled to send an ask after seeing those kinds of things but after seeing your writing responses to them and how thought provoking they are, I really feel compelled to try it myself, if that’s okay! So, I guess I should ask; could I get an idw matchup?

I’m a transman, bisexual, with all the package deals for mental problems; depression, ptsd, anxiety, adhd. I’m going to college for psychology, but I also have a soft spot for history and the classics. I know everyone on campus though, because I love making friends with people and I especially love helping my friends when they need it. Cheering up people and making them laugh is my favorite thing in life. My favorite clothes make me look like a jock too, but I just call myself a himbo because I am also a little dumb at times, but in a good way.

For my hobbies I love baking, writing, gardening, that kind of stuff. I love baking food to give to people, and I love cooking too, because love is stored in the soup broth. I love all kinds of animals too, which is really funny when I go visit friends and their pets all decide I’m the bees knees- I go visit farms occasionally and tend to get followed by the horses, which is cute. I also love music and singing, and I don’t mind if I’m not good at it, because love is ALSO stored in the actions you perform from your heart.

On fears, though, I’m kind of terrified of driving, despite that I drive my car for work all the time; something about going 70mph in a steel box that wants you dead kind of puts it all in perspective. I get around being afraid by trying not to think about it, which, hey, if it works it works!

Some fun facts about me: I once got my hand caught in a bear trap, I legally changed my middle name to Glennjamin, I have gotten sick from eating ONLY chocolate cake for 2 days straight, and when I go running to exercise I put on music like I’m being chased by a serial killer.

A/N : Hi Anon ! Thanks for sending this in, I hope you're doing well. I'm glad you enjoy my previous works, I do try my best to personalise each ask to make them more meaningful (ˊ•͈ ◡ •͈ˋ) I hope I don't disappoint with this one because I'm going to pair you up with IDW Ultra Magnus ( minimus ambus ) and Fortress Maximus !

IDW ULTRA MAGNUS

01| While Ultra Magnus may come off as intimidating to most, you were more than happy to approach him with a friendly greeting. You were always making conversation with the officer, either waving at him as you pass down the halls or stopping to ask him about his day. Even if he didn't show it, Ultra Magnus was touched by the gesture. A lot of people tend to steer clear of him when it comes to matters outside of work. So whenever you try to cheer him up and reassure Ultra Magnus it's not his fault whenever danger strikes, he can't help but smile at your thoughtfulness. He's naturally introverted and somewhat aloof, so don't blame the poor mech when his attempt to get to know you come off as awkward. He's attracted to your lively personality, it's one of the many reasons that pushed him into actually confessing to you.

02| Ultra Magnus is calm and practical. His strong will and sense of duty allow him to act as a natural problem solver. So whenever you struggle with your mental problems, Ultra Magnus is always there to help. While he's known to be impatient, Ultra Magnus is very understanding when comforting others. He has his own experiences in dealing with his mental wellbeing, so he's more than happy to be the shoulder for you to lean on whenever you feel overwhelmed. When you found out about the Magnus armor, Minimus was more than thankful for how accepting you are of it. He can't help but feel bashful when you tell him it doesn't make you love the mech any less. Minimus admires your study in psychology and is very supportive of you, gifting you with stationaries and a brand new study corner.

03| Everyone knows Megatron isn't the only resident lover of all things literature and classics. Minimus enjoys hearing you talk about history. The workaholic would love to take breaks and spend the remaining time with you. (Rodimus tells you you're the only one who can convince him to rest.) He also likes to watch you cook. It's relaxing to the point where he had accidentally fallen into recharge somewhere in the middle ( he woke up from the best sleep he had in ages and reassured you it was not out of boredom.) Minimus also watches you garden in the little greenhouse above the Lost Light, helping you pick the ingredients needed for baking. (It's funny how he would eye every single chocolate cake menacingly after you told him it made you sick once.)

04| Arguments are rare when it comes to Minimus. Although he can be too rational and very by the book, he's always adjusting to find win-win solutions for the both of you. You know he wants to talk and resolve a problem when he goes "Glennjamin." ( He thinks it makes him look more serious. He heard it from Whirl.)

05| Ultra Magnus understands your fear of being in a car. His alt-mode is a truck bigger than the ones you've seen on Earth, so it can sometimes get nerve-wracking whenever he has to drive you around. But whenever he slides his seatbelt across you and assures you it'll be alright, you can't help but feel safe and loved. Knowing that Minimus won't let anything happen to you.

IDW FORTRESS MAXIMUS

01| Fortress Maximus was surprised to see you approach him, wondering why you aren't afraid of him after the whole incident with Rung and Whirl. While others have forgiven him, he finds it hard to excuse himself from his past. Yet you were warm and open and more than happy to befriend him. The gesture warmed his spark and gave him the confidence he needed to feel better about himself. The two of you became each other's support systems. Whenever he feels weighed down by his mental health, he'll always find comfort in spending time with you. And whenever you're feeling anxious and conflicted, Fort Max is never far from helping. While Fortress Maximus carries this sense of responsibility for his community, there's no denying that he has a soft spot for you.

02| Both of you share a love for animals. Fort Max is thankful that you were there to help reverse the Roboids' damage. ( He's even more moved when you volunteered to leave the Lost Light to accompany him.) There's something about you being so gentle and kind towards animals that made him fall in love even more. Fort Max's journey would sometimes take you to foreign planets. He worries when the native animals you fed along the way start to follow you, but once he thinks it's safe, he can't help but smile at the sight. ( He would rather fight an entire ship than admit his fantasy of living a domestic life with you by a secluded farm.)

03| Ever since you told him about the bear trap story, Fort Max has been more protective of you. He'll insist on carrying you around even if you tell him you're fine. He knows you like to go on runs so he'd accompany you to do your exercise from time to time. The first time you run with your headphones in, Fort Max thought you were actually being chased at how fast you were going. It was a funny mishap that you both laugh about from time to time. He likes to watch you write and garden, praising you whenever you read to him one of your works or come home with a good harvest.

04| Fort Max is naturally adherent to tradition. So in disagreements, when he is suddenly forced to try unvetted solutions, the mech may become uncomfortable and stressed. But he is more than ready to put his stubbornness aside to find a solution that is best for both of you. Besides, he can't stay mad at you when you make him laugh.

05| Although it makes Fort Max sad that he can't eat the food you cook for him, he does love to help out. He would even sometimes taste the soup you're cooking. You're afraid it'll make him sick, but he assures you if it does, it would be worth it. ( You immediately called First Aid after he said this.) Fort Max has never been happier. Rung tells you that his optics shine brighter whenever you're around. The psychologist says you're good for each other, and you can't agree more.

I hope you enjoy this Anon ! xx

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lemonpeter · 4 years

Text

Yellow Carnations

Here’s my fic for @starkerfestivals Chocolate Box event - “Milk Molasses—Flowers” I hope everyone enjoys 💕

Warnings: none!

————

No one told him that flowers apparently had meaning!

Tony Stark was a genius. Everybody knew it, it was just a fact.

But flowers were not something he was particularly knowledgeable of. He picked up ones he thought looked nice before a date and that was that. No hidden motives or anything else.

Apparently there was some hidden flower language that he didn’t know about, however. And he’d given some ‘offensive’ flowers, from the words of his date. She stormed out before even explaining, leaving Tony at the table, completely lost.

To avoid another flower mishap, he decided to stop by the flower shop that had opened up just near the tower. He could ask for what to avoid, what was best for dates, and try to remember the information.

Once he stepped inside, however, that plan was almost completely out the window.

The young man at the counter was absolutely beautiful, every bloom in the building paling in comparison. His smile shone brightly as he talked to the customer he was working with.

“Yes, I promise you she’ll love them,” he assured a man who was clutching a bunch of flowers wrapped together. “I’ll give your money back if I’m wrong.” That was always his deal. But no refunds were ever handed out, because he was always right. It was something he prided himself on.

His attention turned to Tony after the first customer started leaving. “Hello! How may I help you today?” He asked cheerfully.

Their eyes met and Tony knew he was in trouble.

He hadn’t hoped to stay anonymous. Of course he was going to be recognized. It happened wherever he went, it was nothing new. But usually people made a big deal about it. He was happy that the florist didn’t even say anything until started talking.

He saw the flicker of recognition, but nothing was said. All that mattered was the instant spark he felt between them.

“So, I had no idea that flowers have meanings? And I’d like to avoid any future mistakes,” he told him, stepping up to the counter.

The florist chuckled, one hand clutched to his chest.

Tony was very proud of himself for causing such a wonderful sound. Even if what he’d said hadn’t been funny. “Do you get that a lot?”

“More than you could imagine,” the young man told him sincerely. “Bad date?”

“Very.”

“What did you bring?”

Tony hummed softly, trying to recall. But he really didn’t know much about flowers. “I think they were...something yellow. Carnations, I think.”

The florist covered his mouth, laughing harder this time. “Oh no...I don’t know why you’d do a full bouquet of carnations anyways, but never yellow!”

“Rejection, I know, I looked it up.” Tony sighed. “We didn’t even get to order dinner.”

A small laugh came from the other man again before he shook his head. “Okay. I can definitely help.”

Tony smiled at him, looking at his name tag. ‘Peter’ it read, which he thought was cute. Although maybe he just thought that everyone about the man was cute.

Which was not his point of being there.

“That’s good, because I can obviously use some help,” Tony joked lightly. “I mean, you could just tell me what I need to avoid and that will be good.”

“For starters, don’t give anyone yellow carnations unless you’re trying to let them down!” Peter laughed. He brushed his fingers through his hair, an action Tony’s eyes followed closely. “Okay, others…no petunias. Just don’t do it. Any color. Trust me on that one.”

Tony was willing to trust anything he said, about flowers or otherwise. So there wouldn’t be an issue with that.

“No buttercups either. Although you don’t see those much. And...hmm. You should probably avoid orange lilies, although those are debatable.”

“Oh, are they? I didn’t know there was big conflict in the flower community,” the older man joked.

Peter laughed again, nodding his head. “You have no idea,” he teased back. “God, there’s actually so many I should advise you against. I’m sure you don’t have that kind of time.”

And that just wouldn’t do. “I have all the time in the world, don’t even worry about that.” Tony gave him a slight grin.

It wouldn’t hurt anything to stay and talk to him. He was sweet, he was cute. Who knew? Maybe something would happen.

The florist smiled, opening his mouth to say something else before the bell on the door chimed with another customer entering. “Shoot. Hey, um.” He didn’t take his eyes off of Tony. “Maybe you could stop by again? I could teach you more if you’d like.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he was cursing himself. It was such a stupid proposition. Why would anyone want to just listen about flowers? The guy came in for one question, that was it. He clearly didn’t care that much.

“I think that would be nice,” Tony told him, snapping the young man out of his thoughts.

“Wait, really?”

“Really,” the older man confirmed with a smile. “I could use some schooling on this, I think. And who better to teach me?”

Peter felt like his heart melted right there. But he couldn’t let himself get too caught up in it. It wasn’t anything serious. It had nothing to do with him. Very little, at least. It was about the flowers. And the learning.

Right.

“Well, I work Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday,” he listed off, the words rushing out. “And it’s from opening to closing, so I’ll be here any time you decide to stop by on those days. So it’s whatever is easiest for you.”

He was disgustingly eager, but luckily he didn’t think Tony minded. He didn’t look like he did, at least.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he noted. He would be back as soon as possible. Which would be...Wednesday. That would be good.

The other customer cleared her throat, annoyingly reminding Peter that she was there. “Oh, I’m sorry! Just a moment, I’ll be right with you,” he promised.

Tony chuckled softly. “So, I’ll see you soon. I’ll be ready to learn, I promise.”

“Perfect.”

As Tony walked away, he couldn’t help the slight bounce in his step and the grin on his face.

Peter was smiling big as he worked with the customer, already excited for the next time he’d see Tony.

***

He figured out quickly that Tony was a wonderful student. And a bit of a flirt, but he could have expected that.

The man stayed for hours, listening to Peter explain different flowers and their meanings in between customers.

Tony came to the shop every day that Peter worked. And every day he listened, memorizing each detail that the florist gave him. One day he’d use the knowledge. He just wasn’t sure when that would be.

Peter detailed plants with multiple meanings, the common meanings, negative meanings, everything. He was clearly passionate about what he did and was happy to share the information.

Occasionally there would be mention of a flower that stood out exceptionally to Tony. A blue iris, for hope. A soft baby bell that meant purity or pure love. Things like that. He kept those in the front of his mind, determined that they stood out for a reason. He would need them.

Even if he wasn’t quite sure when. Or why.

Weeks passed and they continued spending the days together. Tony was there every time, charming and ready to listen to everything Peter had to say.

And god, the young man was definitely falling.

He hated how easy it was for him to fall in love. After all, it was never returned. He just got attached fast and found all the best qualities in someone and that was it. He was in love.

And he should have known much sooner that Tony would be the same. The man was just so perfect. He was sweet, handsome, and always seemed so interested in what Peter told him. Of course the young man couldn’t have helped but fall for him.

The thing he didn’t know, however, was how quickly Tony was falling as well.

***

It had been a few months since their first meeting. Any other time he would have considered it too fast for anything. But it just felt different with Peter. So Tony worked on making a plan.

On the way over to the shop, Tony was working on recalling every meaning that Peter had taught him. He wanted to make sure the bouquet was perfect, not going to offend in any way.

When he got to the shop, however, it was harder to keep his thoughts straight as he met eyes with Peter. Was he supposed to ask for red or pink tulips? And he was pretty sure it was white chrysanthemums, but what if he was remembering wrong?

As he walked through the door, going straight for the counter, he wished he’d written out a list. But it was a bit too late for that now.

“Hey. You’re back,” Peter said happily, leaning onto the counter. “Here for another lesson?”

“No, actually.” Tony cleared his throat, trying to sound confident and fight down his nerves. He wanted to show Peter that he remembered what the flowers meant. And he hoped that would be a good way of asking him out. And confessing how he was already deeply in love with him. God, he was a disaster. “I’m actually here for a bouquet this time. And I’m hoping I’ll get it right.”

“Oh. Well, of course, just tell me what you’re wanting.” The young man’s heart sank. Flowers meant that Tony was going out with someone. He turned away, grabbing a vase to start working with. And having his back to Tony meant that he didn’t have to hide his disappointment.

“Okay. I’m really hoping I get all this right.” Tony’s heart was pounding, threatening to beat right out of his chest as he did his best to recall the flowers he’d planned out. “Um...red tulips, to start. Then some...some white chrysanthemums. And baby’s breath for the filler. And then...one blue iris, right in the middle. Please.” He was pretty sure those were the right ones. He really hoped so.

Peter fought back tears as he arranged them, the meanings not lost on him. Tony really cared about whoever these were going to.

Red tulips for true love, not one he got asked for often. So it must have been really serious. White chrysanthemums for loyalty and devotion. A good thing to promise. Baby’s breath to fill, continuing the idea of pure love. Then the iris. Hope.

He wiped his eyes quickly before turning back around, offering the arrangement to the man. “I hope this is good...they’re really going to enjoy it.”

Tony took it, looking over everything for a moment before smiling nervously and handing it back to Peter.

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Did I get something wrong? Shit, did I mix up-“ that never happened. Was he really that upset, that it messed up his work?

“No, it’s perfect. That’s not why I’m giving it back.” He held it out until the confused young man took it back. “I, uh, I know all that was probably a lot. A lot of love there.” Suddenly he was a little embarrassed. “I know that’s probably coming off really strong. But I want you to understand how strongly I feel.”

“No, I understand. I’m sure whoever is getting them is going to be really-“

“Peter.” Tony gave him a small smile. “The person getting them already has them.”

Peter watched him for a moment, blinking dumbly. He looked down at the bouquet in his hands, trying to work it all out. Then it finally clicked. “This is...for me?”

“If you want it to be. I...I didn’t know how else to say it. But I wanted to show you somehow.” Tony looked at him, trying to hide how nervous he was. He couldn’t tell how Peter felt about the gift and it was definitely stressing him out. “Will you go out with me? Or something like that?”

A smile slowly appeared on Peter’s face, pushing away the confusion. “Was the iris because you hoped I’d say yes?” He whispered, eyes on the soft blue flower.

“Well...yeah,” the man admitted. “I didn’t know what all to do. But I really tried. I...I want you to know that I really care about you. I’ve really fallen for you.”

“I’ve really fallen for you too, Tony,” he whispered, bringing the flowers closer to his chest. “I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

“Well, I do. And I have.” Tony grinned at him, brushing one hand through his own hair. “Does that mean you’ll go out with me?”

Peter would have been willing to do way more than that. But he just simply nodded, ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes. “I would love to.”

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #chocolate box event #starkerfestivalschocolatebox #florist!peter #florist au

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washymylifeaway · 4 years

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MatsuHana fanfic recs

HI LOVES :D MatsuHana is one of my FAVORITE ships and I always love reading their fics! I’m procrastinating my other wips rn, so that do be why this is coming out rn LOL. Also that ask really made me get onto writing this, so anon thank you for sending it in LOL. There are some with VERY sensitive topics and they’re very BOLD, but I hope you all are safe while going through this list <3 (also matsuhana leans more to lots of drinking, spicy smut scenes, and teenage boy humor (like d*ck jokes and sexual innuendos) and sometimes I don’t remember to warn for that, so again CAUTION)

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

CP:

plus one by orphan_account (G) 6.1k // this fic made me feel so warm and fuzzy inside LOL. It’s also hilarious and is definitely worth a read! When will I get to share a heart shaped bed with someone :( But I really love it when they just go with the flow of things, and other people are like,,, aren’t you already dating? BUT THEY’RE LIKE UMMM NO? HSAKJSH.

rated m for by orphan_account (T) 10.7k // I love this fic it made me laugh so much throughout the whole thing! The vibes in this fic are immaculate and give me life (we love a good reunion with mystery writers), it is SO good! That’s why you should never leave/stop listening prematurely (@ iwa when he was a single dad fic).

This gets annoying fast, Makki by Ink_stained_quills (G) 2.3k // IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC PLS I COULD NOT STOP CRYING TEARS OF LAUGHTER. This AU needs more fics PLEASE. It was SO freakin’ funny and the other teams KILLED ME. Like how they all approached the problem differently and how some of them (KUROO) asked for help LOL. Please this is so freaking funny go read it.

quidditch gloves, parchment, and custard cream by h_lovely (T) 12.4k // THIS IS SO GOOD, I love this fic. It really takes you through the emotions, and I love all the development in it!!!! Their relationship with one another (but only as homies right? ofc ofc), and even their families loving the other, this fic is so good! Read it even if you don’t like slow burn, you won’t even notice <3333

call me maybe by totooru (T) 33.6k // okay yea another (semi) chat fic,,, fight me. MatsuHana are just funny in general but throw some other characters (like Kuroo) into it and it turns into a comedy show. But the main point of this fic was like the near miss meetings and I think that the misunderstanding were hilarious (as much as I hate misunderstandings LOL).

Magical Mishaps and How to Deal by plumtrees (M) 10.9k // I lost this fic once and I searched for it FOR THE LONGEST TIME. But that’s cause I wanted to reread this masterpiece. IT’S SO FUNNY AND CUTE AND DOMESTIC AND UGH. Also the small angst made me SO SAD. But the ENDING? THE KISSES AHHHHHHH. (I’m yelling a lot BUT that’s cause I really love this fic <3333)

hang out fall in love by carafin (T) 8.6k // I love the Makki hates Mattsun initially but then falls for the irresistible charm he posses trope. It might be my favorite trope for MatsuHana specifically LOL. Like I really love this fic and it has MAGIC. It’s like a magical version of the VA one LOL. But like no radio shows or reunited best friends in this one :(

THESE ARE VERY ANGST!!!!!!!

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia (E) 91.5k // is it possible to hate a character this much? I never realized how much hate/rage I had in me. Really. Like. Imma boutta fight this MF LIKE SQUARE UP. The way I tried to manifest a fake characters death like,,,, Anyway. If my RAGE doesn’t explain how good of a freakin writer they are, then idk what will. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

Even Though it All Went Wrong by plumtrees (T) 9.2k // THIS IS THE REASON THIS POST CAME TO BE. I love this fic with all my heart (or what’s left of it). Like LOVE as in, this fic really broke me beyond just breaking me. Like. When Oikawa says what he says to Mattsun after the thing (you’re sorry __ _____ __ ____) and the Iwa right after (we know __’__ ___ ______ to make you ____ __ ____) (if you’re wondering wtf I’m putting here, just ctrl F you’re sorry and you’ll see), you cannot believe how hard that hit. GOD. (I am okay if you’re wondering :’)) This is my #1 favorite angst fic of all time and if you are okay mentally and have read the tags and warnings and are fine with them, then please read it. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

The Truth Comes Out by Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon (T) 10.2k // this made me so sad and empty after I read it. Like I just sat there being like wtf did I just read I’m sad now. Again read the tags, there is a suicide attempt but there’s also some cheating in this one. This one also ends happy. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS, THERE ARE VERY SENSITIVE TOPICS!!!!

New:

kiyala // this writer has a LOT of fluffy MatsuHana and I really love their works! It’s just all (for the most part) really cute and there’s a lotta blurred lines and boundaries that get cleared up (they define what their relationship is but with ~love~) in their fics :) My fav? Making Sense by kiyala (T) 1.5k // it’s very cute and I am one who loves when things just fall into place :D

tookumade // this writer has some of MY FAVORITE MatsuHana fics in it and I’m kinda really sad I don’t get to ramble on about them here :( (dw I will elsewhere LOL) If I had to choose, I would say Remind Me by tookumade (T) 28.6k and Zenith, Nadir by tookumade (T) 10.7k were my absolute favorites, but I cannot choose between them so don’t make me.

plumtrees // I LOVE THIS WRITER OMG. Again, someone who has written my all time FAVORITE fics (did I mention OF ALL TIME?) and I’ve obsessively read some of them too many times :’) Because I already recommended my other faves above, Captured Light by plumtrees (T) 3.5k will be my acting favorite rn. It’s really cute and depicts some really sweet moments between MatsuHana too!

h_lovely // this writer has SO MANY GOOD FICS! I really love their series and their getting together fics are all SO GOOD UGH. I recommended my favorite teen one above, but the other ones I loved are explicit so just check out this writer in general LOL. (I REALLY love mirror flower, water moon, it’s my favorite but it’s E cause some smexy scene happen, but it’s really SO good omfg. Also the roses series IS AMAZING as well!!!!)

cream puffs and carnations; by crossbelladonna (series) 11.6k // AU SERIES!!! I love the AU’s in this series and I really liked the prompts they chose for this MatsuHana week :D My favorite from this series might’ve been there he is again by crossbelladonna (T) 1.6k cause a) I love the mattsun hc in this (for his appearance) and b) IT’S CUTE :D I definitely related to Makki and his not very subtle crushing, and also I like the IwaOi + Makki as friends trope (and then they meet Mattsun), if you couldn’t tell yet LOL.

on the anatomy of crushes by carafin (T) 2.3k // (kinda cp but not LOL) it’s very short and cute and I love it a lot LOL. I love medical AU’s (even though it’s very back burner LOL), but also, like Mattsun saves the day is the move. Like the dedication he has even going on the bus? Especially for a guy? Amazing. I could never :’)

Parallel Lines by orphan_account (T) 16.3k // IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE CONSTANTLY. I hate math. Just putting that out here. And while it’s a math fic, IT? IS? SO? GOOD???? And like I love it when characters are smart, like I love intelligent characters so like this was just ajndf. (also same Mattsun, I am allergic to normal math.)

live it up, drink it in by punybastard (T) 2.1k // GAH this one! This is a pretty iconic fic in MatsuHana hell (in my personal opinion) and if I didn’t have that two fic limit on my staple fics, this would be there. I really loved the ending of it (v cute and v well done), but also the small side stories that were inserted made it all the more entertaining :D (aka the volleyball) But they are drinking underage, so if you’re not about that BE WARNED.

it's cold out here by bishounen_curious (M) 8.6k // PLEASE I LOVE THIS FIC. YES READ YESYESYES READ. OKAY FIRST check tags and warnings, there’s a lot going on in this fic. Like don’t be stupid like them, drinking underage, and don’t do drugs not a good idea very very bad. Aside from that, I am in love with sad sad sad Makki (along with stupid IwaOi) and him being a sad drunk made me ajhkjdfs. Just read it and feel the akfnakjs with me LMFAO.

poolside by tothemoon (T) 4.1k // I’m starting this out with I LOVE the ending and I REALLY LOVE the way this confession panned out. It’s such a great concept and it made me ajhfldshf inside!!! Also, recursive endings are some of my favorites (if you couldn’t already tell LOL), and I think it really makes something so nostalgic and adds depth to a fic.

The Courage of Stars by FairyLights101 (T) 7.1k // AHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS FIC YES!!!! OKAY TW CANCER THERE’S CANCER IN THIS NO DEATH JUST PAIN and chemo (which basically is pain). Some controversy, but the angst part of me wanted him to die DONT GET ME WRONG, I’m glad he lived, but like imagine. I really love this fic, and his efforts in the bucket list were admirable :’)

we could be the greatest team by anyadisee (T) 5.7k // it’s my crack fic :D Yes, this is just Seijoh messing around, boys being boys, relationships being compared with other relationships. No pining, just me with my established relationships (and Iwa fanclubs cause those are a thing. ALWAYS).

Wet Your Whistle by darkmagicalgirl (E) 5.4k // SMUT ALERT okay but like while it’s a major plot point (lmfao I can’t believe myself), the storyline itself is good. Also, I’m all here for bartender Makki and tattoo Makki and not subtle at all Makki and basically everything Makki. I like banter and stupidity okay?

[obnoxious clucking noises] by parenthetic (renaissance) (T) 3.4k // some more crack fic for you <3333 Literally, just idiots being idiots. That’s the fic. LMFAO but seriously, I would like to participate as well,,,,, I have yet to lose a game of gay chicken cause of my lack of fear akdjaslk.

that's what you get (for waking up in vegas) by skittidyne (T) 4.2k // THIS IS SO FUNNY. I love Elvis cause he’s always officiating marriages in my fics LMFAO. But also IwaOi in this added some real nice comedy, and overall another crack fic but I really liked this one (AGAIN LMFAO).

A Bouquet of Flours by guyfierimpreg (G) 5.2k // first I want to know how they got the flour to scream, I just can’t figure it out so if anyone would like to send me pictures that’d be great. Second, they would do this bs and this is all canon. I said what I said, and I don’t take criticism. Like, matsuhana best parents proven by the magical mishaps fic (LMAO).

texting (with a capital S) by parenthetic (renaissance) (M) 2.1k // okay I just wanted to say that the accuracy in the math stuff being mentioned makes me feel like this writer was in calc ab or something and that’s trauma right there. Anyways, it’s a texting fic kinda sorta getting together kinda sorta not? Idk how to explain it, but it was funny and then smut LMFOAJIAHFSJS (the derail was just like IwaOi in gay chicken, someone call the police LMFAO).

nebulas by tothemoon (T) 10.8k // I like the casualness of it. Like the confession was just so casual (smooth Mattsun) and like the progression was GOOD. Like, it’s a very poetic fic and there’s lots of thinking of deeper meaning, but its still got some comedy sprinkled throughout. I really loved the flow of it!!!!

my heart beats for contract law by orphan_account (T) 4.4k // I too would have a breakdown over school (me pretending like I haven’t already done that ahaha), but I really love so many things about this fic! Everything was just so ajsdfljdsn and I really love the 3 part plan Mattsun comes up with :DDDD (esp pt 3). Also, to propose while having an emotional breakdown at 3am in a McDonalds drive through. A mf dream.

Reflex by hiuythn (T) 2.3k // PLEASE IF THEY DIDN’T MEET AT HS THIS WOULD BE CANON ASF. You cannot tell me you don’t think this would not be cannon asf. They would meet like this. Also poor Teuchi stuck in the middle of all of this. I haven’t watched naruto, but it doesn’t really matter. What matters is random emotional sexual bonding over something. That is important. (THE ENDING AJKFHKJ)

You're in Pink (and I'm in blue) by Hyeyu (T) 4.4k // whooooo Hanahaki whooo anyway, despite how it seems, I like the hanahaki trope. I don’t fully understand it sometimes (most of the time tbh), but it adds some nice angst and desperate confessions, and I do appreciate those :D Honestly, I really liked the way this fic panned out, and I felt really bad for Iwa LOL.

stranger things by tinypersonhotel (G) 10.2k // I really like this one :D:D:D I love Makki + Oikawa friendship and they’re really the best to each other :’) The ending was satisfying, and the PLOT omg. It was SO good. I feel like I say this a lot though LOL, but I’m just really into fics with good plot progression (or else I don’t read them OOPS).

something of a disaster by latenights (T) 1.4k // chaos ahahhaha. Another crack fic? I hope no one is surprised LOL. It’s just a really short and simple, cute getting together fic with a LOT of insults LOL. I love this one in particular, “Tooru’s dinner special”.

snakes, meth labs and something like love by orphan_account (G) 3.6k // THE ROOMMATE AD PLEASE. I honestly would never think Oikawa would get a snake, but that doesn’t matter LOL. This was me indulging myself in the makki IwaOi best friends and mattsun stranger agenda but it’s a great agenda okay? It’s a good fic and there’s a microwaved fish :D

Lemonade by carriecmoney (T) 4.1k // okay once again, responsible drinking and don’t drink underage bad idea smh. But MatsuHana just making out where they want? I could see that. Yeah. Anyway, as much as public make out seshes make me *gag* feel embarrassed, what made me feel more *gag* embarrassed was the fact that the girls? just? stood? there? Like why are you watching this. Is that just me? I feel like they should’ve left smh.

surprise, surprise by airblends (T) 7.6k // some more pining and dancing around the issue whoooo. As much as I hate them not getting to the point (almost as much as I hate misunderstandings), it was a great fic. This is nosebleed c*ck block (idk if I needed to censor that but I did fight me).

A God for Every Season by timkons (T) 18.4k // I love the Hades and Persephone trope! Okay, I just love mythology leave me be, but anyway I really love a lot of this fic. Like how Mattsun thinks it’s a little brighter with Makki? CUTE I LOVE. But also, the fish funeral is ridiculous but also very on brand for Oikawa. And some BokuKuroo (idk is that their ship) in here as well :DDD

The Best/Worst Places to Cry in the City by AngryKitten (T) 4.4k // literally it is the title. Just you know, looking for the best place to cry in the city,,,, I’d like to say, don’t cat call people cause we’re not about that here. Even if it worked out for them, just don’t do it :/ Also don’t follow strangers. I feel like that’s a given but jic ya know?

this isn't exactly how i thought i'd be spending my adult years by jadedpearl (NR) 7.5k // okay petty Makki is yes and so is my Makki + IwaOi agenda LOL. (I’m thriving here can’t you tell? Yes regular skype/phone calls constantly) Anyway, blackouts and sickness really be here getting people together. (I’m asking nicely, nike.) And Makki is smooth with his words. (SHORTER MEN MADE ME LAUGH)

chocolate by tellalie (T) 3.6k // the dedication in this fic was amazing. Like making a whole a cake? Someone go do that for me. (For mankind.) Fake dating is really something else, but fake dating to out gag your best friends? Seems like I need to step up my game (but no seriously, my best friends are PDA monsters I hate it here). Also practice confessions are wack.

FINALLY I MADE IT. You don’t know how many times I almost gave up on finishing LMFAO. Is this my longest list? Idk. But I just know that I would’ve finished faster if I didn’t end up rereading almost every fic on this list LMFAO. Like no seriously I almost had to make a post saying this wouldn’t be coming out cause I got distracted by one of the longer fics (I’m blaming Mirror Flower, Water Moon specifically). But I hope you enjoyed this, and once again go thank that anon for spurring me into finishing this list LMFAO (am I a horse? Yea, probably but if one thing, I’m not sturdy).

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