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andrea-lyn · 3 years

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The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there!

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend.

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way

Sundering by romancandles

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies ([email protected])

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

(TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends.

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."

#recs #fic recs #recs project #star trek recs #inception recs #the raven cycle recs #the old guard recs #roswell new mexico recs

46 notes · View notes

5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

I’ve been picking at this particular request since early December as the person who requested it had a lot of details they wanted put in making the writing process a bit more challenging. As a disclaimer, note that the chapter is split between present time and the past; with Logan recalling things in his past in an attempt to make the details requested for the story flow better. I received this request from AO3.

General taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck

Experimental Socialization

Summary: Logan was raised by the government to be nothing more than an experiment and a weapon, utilizing his unique abilities as a mutant. When he finally escapes things are much different than he imagined they’d be but thankfully finds others like him willing to help guide him right where he needs to be.(Happy Ending)

Warnings: allusions to abuse, physical punishment and human experimentation, tw for weapons and fire, panic attack. If there are more please let me know

Prompt; Not Used To Freedom (requested by AngstyEmoGal on AO3)

Ships: Intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 3432

“You just gotta breathe, Logan. In four, hold seven, out eight remember? You’re doing great, just keep going.”

Logan felt himself slowly coming back to reality as his breathing evening out, the raw panic that had gripped his chest easing slightly as Virgili continued coaxing him through the exercise. He felt the other slowly rub up and down his arm in a slow, steady beat that helped ground him further in reality and he smiled up at his friend gratefully and nodded to let xem know he was okay. Gripping his knees as Virgil’s voice trailed off he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let out one last calming breath.

“Thank you, Virgil. I-” He struggled to find words, gesturing flippantly in the air making Virgil grin.

“It’s okay. Take your time, L.”

Logan puffed his cheeks out in frustration, thoughts swirling too quickly for him to comprehend anything but the apprehensive fear he held for the plans Remus had made for them later that evening. “I am- not used to being outside. Given my history and the threat I pose as a potential compromise to our place of hiding I fail to understand Remus’ reasoning for going out when we could just as easily celebrate our relationship here.”

“Hm.” Virgil leaned back on xyr hands and looked up at the low ceiling of their underground paradise. “Can’t really see the stars from here, no matter how many stickers Princey finds and puts up it can't really be compared to the real thing.”

Logan had made the mistake of going on a tirade of space facts a few months into his stay in the hideout, Remus patiently listening to the extensive infodump of constellation facts and space physics and planetary rotation. Having a limited amount of books to entertain oneself with for extended periods of time meant memorizing entire books on one subject, which Logan had used all too happily as a figurative escape from his situation in the past until he had actually managed to escape when he was 16. Hearing Logan speak so passionately about the subject had apparently made his mind up that he was taking Logan outside for their first “official” date to view the stars, which had then landed Logan in his current state of panic as he realized that date was today and he was decidedly not ready for what might lay in store outside of safety of the hideout.

“I can stay close by if you want. I won’t spy or anything and Remus won’t have to know.” Logan looked over as his thoughts were interrupted by the offer, Virgil turning invisible and reappearing a couple seconds later to emphasize xyr point. Smiling Logan shook his head, knowing the other derived as much joy from going outside as Logan felt about going himself.

“Thank you for the offer though, you’re very kind.” Letting his thoughts drift again he idly wondered when Virgil had discovered xe could disappear and reappear at will and if xyr parents had tried to hide it before the government had found out. His own parents-

-----

“Logan?” A very small Logan turned at his mother’s voice, losing his concentration which made the hidden jar of Crofters fall from its suspended place in the air and smash to the floor. His parents hadn’t known he possessed any sort of powers, and even as small as he was he still understood the position he’d put them in if they ever found out. Fearfully his hands dropped to his sides as his mother covered her mouth in shock, tears rolling down her cheeks as she took a step back.

Men in suits and long coats were there just a few hours later, speaking in hushed voices while both of his parents cried and he was ushered out the door and into an unmarked car, quiet as he understood yelling and crying would do him no good now. What’s done was done, all he could do was be compliant and hope to be treated gently.

-----

The room suddenly brightening with a flickering light brought him back out of his thoughts, Roman entering with his signature bright flame held proudly in his hand. The image of him in his rather scrapped together Princely outfit posing subconsciously in the doorway was almost enough to make Logan roll his eyes but he didn’t want Virgil to think it was because of xem so he managed to restrain himself.

“My dearest brother has been pacing in the same spot for two hours now and I haven't been able to calm him down soooo I thought to check on our resident nerd.” Roman declared with his usual flare. Logan actually did roll his eyes this time but Virgil did as well so he figured it was fine.

“The ‘resident nerd’ is doing fine, Roman. Though it's concerning to hear Remus is nervous as well considering he’s the one who suggested the date.”

Roman waved his hand at Logan dismissively. “He’s just a sap- moreso than me surprisingly. He doesn’t want to do anything to put you in danger but he wants to do something nice, so he’s worried that’s all. Remus is an idiot but I trust him with my life; believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about except his terrible sense of humor.”

Logan merely hummed in response, staring at the way the flame moved around as Roman gestured with his words.

-----

He panted as he rolled out of the way of another flamethrower, singeing the tips of his hair in the process but he couldn’t afford to slow down enough to worry about that. Years of training with different fighting styles had earned him incredibly fast reflexes but a good portion of his accuracy in knowing where to step and when was owed to him working even harder to focus his powers. Thoughts from others constantly surrounded him on a regular basis, getting more and more prevalent the older he grew. Learning to block out the constant string of stimuli was a useful skill to keep him sane but learning to hone in on specific thoughts to predict actions was what had kept him alive.

He ducked below another bullet and brought up his leg in the same motion, kicking a throwing knife to the side and sending it to clatter harmlessly between one of his assailants feet. A twirl to the side and a tilt of the head let another bought of flame boil the air beside him while another knife just barely brushed his ear. The constant bang of bullets and roar of flames and whistling of knives was overwhelming and made the air so thick he could barely draw a breath and it was becoming a struggle to concentrate the way he needed to and-

A high pitched alarm sounded one, twice, three times- a blaring flash accompanying it that left him blinking painfully. His shoulders slumped as the barrage finally ended, another successful training day completed. He watched as everyone began putting their weapons away, laughing and congratulating each other, clapping themselves on the back and discussing whatever they had planned after this. No one even spared the thing they had been firing at seconds before a spare glance, save for the director of the branch, who took long steps forward to stand in front of him only to snap his fingers and motion forward no doubt to see him back to his room until dinner. Absorbing the sounds around him he drank in as much praise as he could that wasn’t his and would never be for him; people rarely congratulated weapons after all.

-----

“Is this where we all decided to hide today?” Logan looked up to see Patton sitting cross legged on one one of the beams in the ceiling, grinning happily down at them even as their fluffy ears twitched nervously and even fluffier tail whipped back and forth in agitation. They must have come back from trying to calm Remus as well, Logan mused; Patton had never done well being in the same room as Remus who tended to voice his thoughts abruptly and without much care to how they might sound to others which always managed to set Patton on edge no matter how hard they tried not to show it.

Patton was a rare mutant in that as opposed to being born with abnormal traits or abilities they had been a science experiment from the start- an effort to create super soldiers rather than stealing them away from families and training them. Even rarer was the fact that the DNA splicing had taken extraordinarily well by pure chance as Patton was born with a mutation that left their DNA incredibly malleable- a mutation that never would have been discovered had cellular manipulation not been the reason for them being in the experimental branch that they were. They had tried cloning Patton at first to see if their power could be duplicated but when that failed to work they began trying to combine them with different animals to see if desirable traits would come forward. By manipulating them on a physical and anatomical level they were able to change some parts of them to be more cat like, intending, Patton had guessed, to turn them into a kind of stealth soldier but they got away before they completed it, leaving them with heightened agility and surgically coaxed cat ears and a tail. They were only a child when the lab had done this but somehow they were never bitter, simply preferring to leave their past alone and embrace whatever future they could make- a trait Logan greatly admired them for even if their unending optimism could be somewhat grating at times.

“Did Janus brush your tail out Pat? It looks fluffier today.” Patton preened at Virgil's compliment, their tail beginning to wave in a more relaxed manner as their mind was distracted from whatever it was Remus had been ranting about.

“He did! He found a cat brush and got it for me so I could finally get the undercoat out!” Jumping down and landing lightly on their feet they posed a little and flashed another wide grin.

“Beautiful as always, Patton.” Roman said genuinely as he lowered his hand into a barrel to light up the paper scraps and wood in it for the night, the dim sunlight that had filtered through the grated having long since died. The home was a modified branch of a sewer system, thankfully the part most removed from the city where it flowed without the stench and was sealed off inconspicuously enough that in the ten years Janus and Remus had been using it no worker had ever found it.

-----

It had been Janus and Remus who had found him, beaten and bloody from an escape attempt he had made just days before his real one. He had made a weak attempt to coax the scientists into a false sense of security, holding back the full scoop of his powers during training for a year in anticipation for his final escape. He had punished severely but had simply thrown him in his regular cell, assuming he wasn’t strong enough to do any more damage than they had seen him do already and trusting that they had beaten him down enough that it would be a while before he tried again- if he ever did. Not six days later the mangled metal of the front of his cell was tossed into a group of guards, walls torn apart in a straight line to the exit and the huge buzzing gates leading to the outside world thrown open wide and stuck there with varying amounts of heavy debris.

The outside world, as it turns out, was a lot bigger and louder and downright terrifying when you weren’t being sent out as a personal assassin or field missions or training sessions- all controlled on some level to keep him from being killed and compromised. Without the begrudged protection from the labs and moreover having to hide from said lab was another story entirely. The times they searched for him and how closely they came to his spots were random and made it incredibly hard for him to pick out their thoughts from anyone else’s in the city and figure out how close they were. On more than one occasion they passed right by him crouched under piles of garbage or laying low under a hedge, his breath held as he tried desperately to keep himself as still and quiet as possible, thoughts of what they would to him once they found him pounding against his head and making him squeeze his eyes shut to keep his terrified tears from falling.

That was how Remus had found him. It had been dark and hours had passed since the searchers had left that park he had been hiding in. He had still been hiccuping down his sobs as he rolled out from under the hedge that he hadn’t bothered to scope the area for anyone’s close by thoughts, having shut out as much as he could after they had left to try and block out any other hate fueled thoughts that may send him spiraling again. His heart had leapt in his throat so high his breath caught painfully, immediately shifting to offense as he tensed, ready to fight as long and hard as he could. He couldn’t go back- he wouldn’t. No matter what they did or promised him or punished him with; he’d go down fighting or not at all.

But Remus had only raised his hands in the air in a motion of peace, eyes widening as he locked onto the government issued bracelet that marked him as an experimental mutant. He had grinned impossibly wide then Logan remembered, briefly disappearing from his sight and reappearing a moment later, setting him even more on edge but curious nonetheless.

“I’m like you.” Remus had said quietly. “Basically I run real fast and the government hasn’t figured out how to get me yet.”

Logan had watched as he jiggled his wrists a bit for emphasis, bare save for colored chords that he assumed didn’t associate him with any government branch since they didn’t look official.

“Are you okay?” Remus had asked next and mutely Logan nodded, unsure of how to react to this fellow mutant who had never been caught by any sort of lab, apparently living as free as one could when you were as different as they were. He stepped back as another man appeared behind him, Janus he later learned.

“Liar.” Janus had hissed, making Remus reach around and smack the back of his head.

“It was a polite thing to ask that he tried to dismiss Jan. Let the adults speak for a second.”

Logan had noted the faint pout on Janus’ face though he was still trying very hard to look intimidating. And then all at once his eyes had turned cold as his attention was once again focused on Logan, glaring menacingly from beneath a black bowler hat. “I’m younger than you and yet I’m the one that has to put my foot down. He’s being chased clearly; we are not bringing him back with us.”

Remus has turned, Logan seemingly forgotten for the moment. “That’s not how it works! He needs help and we’re not leaving him to starve or be found in the middle of a park! What would Patton say?”

“Patton is a soft fool who needs to figure out where their morals stand. I myself am choosing not to compromise our place of hiding and three other people that you know those power hungry idiots would love nothing more than to get their hands on!”

Remus rolled his eyes so hard his head had lolled with it, face going pale as he watched something in the sky. It was then that Logan heard the telling sound of a helicopter flying low and getting closer but he had barely tensed before he found himself gripped around the middle and held vertically with the ground flying underneath him. They stopped abruptly and he was set down, blinking in rapid confusion as Remus grinned sheepishly at him.

“Welcome to the hideout?”

Logan’s eyes had widened and his breath had caught yet again, chest tightening as he shook his head vehemently. “You can’t- I need to go back! They’ll do anything to get me back-!”

He was stopped from going forward with a finger to his chest, his blue eyes locking with beautiful brown as Remus held his gaze. “And we will do everything to keep you safe.”

Safe. With that one word Logan was his. He hadn’t known why and he still didn’t quite understand it but he had trusted Remus with everything he had- and he still did. Even as Janus had stalked off grumbling and Virgil and Roman had kept their distance at first Remus had kept him close and showed him how much better his life could be, even if they were living in a modified sewer system.

Back in the present he looked up as a hand was thrust under his chin, smiling softly as he took Remus’ hand and let himself be led away from the others’ idle chatter. He counted himself extremely lucky in the end that Janus had eventually come around to him, seeing how happy he made Remus and how Remus made Logan feel it had been him to finally talk to Logan about it and get the two to officially talk about how they felt, going on about the being “hopeless gay idiots” when they had finally started to date officially. Logan wasn’t sure what he’d do without Remus at this point, just a year later and he was so attached to their small group of hideaways he wouldn’t trade for the world.

They approached the exit to the sewers, Remus swinging their hands between them. Logan held his breath right before they crossed the threshold, closing his eyes and letting it out slowly as his feet met grass and he opened his eyes to the darkened field. There were a few tunnels that lead out to different places depending on where they needed to go and this, Remus had told him, was his favorite because of how empty it was. The city lay far in the distance so there was almost no light pollution to block out the sky. Soft grass and flowers brushed his ankles as he scanned the area carefully, seeing nothing but trees lining the far end of the field with a road so far away he could barely, make it out in the darkness. Remus tugged his hand softly to get his attention, searching his eyes for any hint of discomfort.

“Is this okay?’

Logan took another breath and let it out, the last of his nerves fading away as he took in the quiet. “It’s perfect Remus.”

The other grinned and tugged a little harder this time, walking fast to the middle of the field where he stopped suddenly and raised Logan’s arm up to lead him into an impromptu twirl. Logan laughed quietly and then louder as he was dipped, secure in Remus’ strong hold as he reached up to grip the back of his neck. He was safe. He was free and safe and happy finally with someone who truly loved and cared for him. His breath caught in his throat again but this time in awe, Remus chuckling as he was laid down carefully tucked into his side, till with his arms around his neck.

The stars shone bright and winked lazily while swirls of color dusted faintly behind them. The moon was waning, a barely there light that let the beauty behind it show fully as the wind whisked away any clouds that dared to try and cover it. It was everything Logan had ever hoped it would be and more, excitement thrumming through him as he squeezed Remus tightly in an attempt to convey it. He felt Remus grin against his scalp where his face was buried in his hair.

“It’s beautiful isn't it?”

Logan looked back at him, light from the stars reflected in his eyes and wild brown hair framing his face. He leaned up slightly and kissed him, a faint brush of their lips that left them both grinning like the idiots they were. Placing a hand on Remus’ cheek Logan smiled at him, thumb brushing over his cheek in adoration.

“Absolutely stunning.”

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citylightsbooks · 3 years

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A Women’s History of City Lights: Interview with Nancy J. Peters

We'll be celebrating Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s 102nd birthday on March 24, and what better way to remember his legacy AND to mark Women’s History Month, than to honor Nancy J. Peters, Lawrence’s business partner, friend, and longtime comrade at City Lights Books. While Ferlinghetti certainly deserves all of the accolades he’s received, the fact of the matter is there would literally be no City Lights without Nancy Peters. Beyond shepherding City Lights through various fiscal crises and providing the steady anchor that allowed Ferlinghetti to travel the world as a poet and activist, Nancy's vision as an editor and acumen as a publisher were a vital key to the success and longevity of City Lights Publishers.

***

City Lights: How did you come to know what City Lights was? How did you meet Lawrence Ferlinghetti?

Nancy Peters: In Greece in the early 1960s, I became friends with Nanos Valaoritis and Marie Wilson who were at the center of an international bohemian/surrealist community. They had a large home which was always full of traveling writers and artists whom they made welcome. The Beat writers were among their guests, and City Lights was frequently talked about as a place everyone would meet up someday. I met Philip Lamantia there and in 1965 he introduced me to Lawrence in Paris at one of Jean-Jacque Lebel’s anarcho-surrealist festivals of free expression. Before a riotous crowd Lawrence gave a show-stopping rendition of his “Lord’s Prayer.” I was impressed by his powerful stage presence. Later that year, when Philip and I were living in Andalusia, Lawrence wrote Philip, asking for a selection of poems for a Pocket Poets Series volume. We corresponded some while we were putting the book together, but I didn’t see him again until 1971 when I moved to San Francisco.

I’d been working as an executive-trainee librarian at the Library of Congress in the fall of 1968. In April, Martin Luther King was assassinated and the impassioned protests that ensued left Washington neighborhoods in ruins. There was shockingly little assistance to residents from the government and my part of the city was under military surveillance, helicopters hovering over my apartment through the night. A Moratorium to End the War in Vietnam took place in Washington the following year. Over 750,000 people peacefully demonstrated. In a small way, I was involved in the planning and, during the protests, my apartment was crammed with fellow activists.

The Library of Congress was an amazing, fascinating place with compatible co-workers from all over the world—thousands of book people all in one place. However, the mission of the Library is to serve Congress, and the institution was a huge conservative bureaucracy serving a conservative and ineffective Congress as I saw it. I believed that if I stayed there I would have little contact with actual books or opportunities for civic activism.

So I moved to San Francisco, where Philip was living and urging me to come, and spent an enormous amount of time at City Lights while I was job hunting. It seemed like paradise, such a stimulating atmosphere where people could sit down to read, share ideas, and have conversations about books, politics, art. One day in early 1971 when I was walking down the street in North Beach, Lawrence hailed me and asked if I would like to help him with a bibliography of Allen Ginsberg’s writings. After just a brief meeting at the publishing office, Lawrence went to Europe and his editorial assistant Jan Herman suddenly decided to move to Germany. Jan showed me how all the editorial work was done in the office, told me Lawrence “wouldn’t mind,” and so I found myself beginning an exciting new career in publishing.

What was your experience taking over as executive director and co-owner in 1984?

The store back then employed seven people: six men at the bookstore and one (me) at the publishing branch. So “executive director” is far too grand a title. City Lights was a small, failing organization by 1982. The store was not founded to make profits for the owners and it never did make a profit. Breaking even was the goal. But every year the losses mounted and there came a time when there were very few books left on the shelves. No one had seen a customer venture downstairs to the lower part of the store for many months.

At the time, Lawrence was immensely popular and in great demand as a performer and a speaker, so he was traveling much of the time, visiting foreign colleagues, living abroad, finding new writers to translate. At this low point in the store’s history Lawrence told me in a frustrated moment that if I’d like to own City Lights, he would give it to me outright if I would run the business, freeing him to do all the other things he wanted to do. I declined, but told him I would be honored to be his partner. Theft was seriously addressed, and a protracted payment plan was agreed to by Book People, the East Bay employee-owned distributors who extended us credit for a generous period. Savvy booksellers Richard Berman and Paul Yamazaki headed the re-stocking plan. The three of us would go every week to Book People and Lou Swift Distributors to collect enough books to sell the following week. As time went on, everybody at the store consulted book catalogs and took on the responsibility for buying subject sections. I envisioned a participatory structure. If not a co-op, I wanted a bookstore where all the staff had responsibilities and power.

Why the decision not to have multiple bookstore locations around SF?

At one time we seriously considered additional locations. We explored sites in San Francisco’s Mission district and visited city officials in San Jose to talk about a second store there. But our resources were limited, and we were concerned about the time and money that would be required to create a sister store that would embody the same spirit and ethic as the original. During my time as director, the evolving challenges from chain stores and especially Amazon made beginning a new store a very risky enterprise. In retrospect, so many independents were closing that we decided to invest in our present, iconic location. In retrospect I think it was a good decision after watching attempts by other stores fail to duplicate their success elsewhere.

How has North Beach changed, how has it stayed the same? With the exodus of Big Tech and falling rents, how do you think that will affect North Beach and San Francisco in general in the future? Will there be “a rebirth of wonder”?

North Beach when I came to SF was a small bohemian village, where neighbors shared meals on their flat rooftops watching the sun set over the Bay. My rent was $125 a month, cheap even then. City Lights and the Discovery Bookstore (used books) next door to Vesuvio were key places to spend an evening. Two large Italian grocers delivered (no charge) bags of groceries up four flights of stairs to my apartment. The neighborhood was full of inexpensive Basque, Italian, and Chinese restaurants, and many cafes, many of which seemed unchanged since the 19th century. Change happens, and City Lights is well prepared for the future. It’s never easy to predict how things will develop, but the feeling of a lovely Mediterranean town persists, with the wooden buildings painted pastel colors, and the shimmering sea light on misty days. I feel certain that the light of City Lights will prevail for a long time to come.

Do you feel that your gender had any impact on your experience during your 23 years as director? Do you have any comments about women in bookselling or publishing in general?

Gender always has an impact. The Beat movement was certainly male focused. Even though the undaunted Diane di Prima was recognized, she was never enthusiastically supported by the inner nucleus of Beat poets. It was a long time before the Beat women came into their own. From the start, Lawrence, who insisted he wasn’t a Beat, had eclectic tastes and was open to women’s poetry. He admired Marianne Moore and Edna St. Vincent Millay as much as he did T.S. Eliot, Jacques Prévert, and Allen Ginsberg. In the Pocket Poets Series, he’d published di Prima and, very early in the series, both Marie Ponsot and Denise Levertov.

Women’s rights and opportunities are always vulnerable and cyclic. The Women’s Movement of the 1970s was very powerful and widespread, its impact on women’s lives enormous. At City Lights we hired more women; we published more women. There have always been outstanding women in publishing and bookselling, and during that time increasingly more women writers were published, reviewed, and were given accolades and awards. Women opened general bookstores and women’s bookstores, founded feminist and lesbian presses. It was a thrilling development, to see so many marginalized writers, and not just women, finding established publishers or creating their own presses. Together they created a larger, much more diverse national literature.

I’ve had the pleasure of working with many talented women at the bookstore. And in the publishing branch: Stella Levy, Kim McCloud, and Patricia Fujii. Gail Chiarello collected and edited our bestselling Bukowski stories. Annie Janowitz proposed the timely Unamerican Activities, and Amy Scholder brought us classics by Karen Finley, Rebecca Brown, and others. I’m happy to say that Amy Scholder is again working with City Lights as an editor.

When did you meet the now current publisher and executive director Elaine Katzenberger? What was her position at the bookstore? When did you know that she was the right person to take over as director?

Ah, Elaine, the woman who can do everything! Elaine began at the bookstore sales counter, then reorganized files and the store accounts, and very soon excelled as a book buyer. She had a great feeling for good writing, so I asked her to become an editor and she immediately began adding excellent books to City Lights’ list. She’s smart, witty, multitalented, and politically astute. We are very lucky to have her at the helm.

What is your understanding or vision of what of City Lights is and what it could be? How has Lawrence’s passing impacted this?

Lawrence’s democratic inclusiveness made him the best-selling poet in the U.S. His moral principles, his courage and resilience are a model to be emulated. He conceived City Lights as an educational institution that would open minds to explore and relate to the world through books. “One guy told me he’d got the equivalent of a Ph. D just sitting in the basement reading all our great books,” he often reminded us.

His “literary gathering place” was to be a fulcrum of San Francisco cultural experience, where our bookselling and publishing could amplify the voices of diverse experiences, connect with other creative communities, and serve as a center of dissent and, at the same time, a force for creating a better society.

Lawrence’s vision will continue to be our guiding light. An optimistic realist, he believed that City Lights would long endure as the co-creation of all the dedicated people who work here and make it what it is.

#nancy peters #lawrence ferlinghetti #womens history month #city lights bookstore

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canarygirl1017 · 4 years

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Ghosted - Chapter 1

Pairing: Reader / Jungkook, Reader / Taehyung (past relationship, friends to lovers to friends)

Genre: College!au, fluff, angst, supernatural drama, smut, friends to lovers, emotional trauma, hurt/comfort

Length: 11, 400k words

Warnings: language, episodes of anxiety, panic attacks, sexual themes in later chapters

Summary: Living in a world full of things only you have the ability to see, growing up with Jungkook has been your island amidst the chaos. But when your best friend makes an impossible request, your friendship is fractured, and your sudden decision to cut ties and move abroad changes everything. Three years later, Jungkook is thriving at university as he begins his junior year. He’s a star athlete, member of a popular fraternity, and every girl’s ideal boyfriend. He tells himself that he’s long forgotten you and the friendship he never had a chance to mend – that is, until you show up on campus as a transfer student with new friends in tow. It’s been three years, and everything has changed, but the biggest change is you. Your new found determination to use your abilities to help the ghosts you used to live in fear of, no matter how dangerous it might be, makes Jungkook fear he’ll lose you before he has a chance to fix what he broke. College AU.

A/N: This was based on a short story prompt I received in my writers’ group, so I’m adapting it as a JJK story. I’ll post the last part of Hands On Me next, and then Chapter 2 of this one. I’m also going to make a Masterlist this week to make things easier to find.

Disclaimer: Just for funsies, I don’t believe in real-life shipping. But I like to write, and I like fandom, so here we are. Please do not duplicate this work or repost anywhere else without permission.

Chapter 1

You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t see the shadows. They were less scary when you were young – too young to understand what you were seeing. Too young to understand how they could hurt you.

But you’d always remember the exact moment that Jungkook became the most important person in your world.

When your father died and your mother remarried, you moved back to the town where your mom grew up. They bought a house in a quiet suburban neighborhood, and near one of your mother’s childhood friends whose family lived two doors down.

You and Jungkook were five years old then, and though your mothers frequently got you together for play dates with the other neighborhood kids, you didn’t exactly bond right away. Jungkook was always on the move, and you liked finding quiet spots away from everyone.

That changed the year you turned eight. Though your birthday was a month earlier than his, your mothers had begun throwing joint birthday parties when you were six. This year the party was at the nearby lake at Jungkook’s request – a noisy affair with several of Jungkook’s friends from school as well as kids from your neighborhood. The fathers were grilling, and Jungkook’s older brother, Jin, was playing in the water with two of his friends and their younger sisters.

Your mother kept pushing you to play with the other kids, but you knew that you made them uncomfortable. As if they could sense that you were different, they kept their distance. You were scared of many things they didn’t understand, and you spent your school days alone. So, at your own birthday party, you sat on the sidelines, knees drawn to your chest as you watched the activity.

______________

Jungkook glanced over at you as he tossed a ball back and forth with his friend, Jimin. You had completely isolated yourself from everyone as soon as you arrived. It was nothing unusual, but it still bothered him because this was supposed to be your party too.

He’d seen kids teasing you at school, and he’d done his best to quietly put a stop to it. Since you were in a different class, he wasn’t sure how your school days went but judging by the way the girls ignored you, he was guessing not that well. When he missed the ball that Jimin threw, he forced his attention back to their game.

“She always looks sad,” Jimin said. “The kids in her class say mean things about her.”

“I know,” Jungkook said. “I try to play with her, like after school, but she never wants to.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

“Is what true?”

Jimin hesitated. “Two girls from her class are saying she’s crazy – that she sees things.”

“Huh? Who said that?” It was the first time Jungkook had heard that.

“Lily and Hanna,” Jimin answered. “They said she talks to herself a lot, and she was talking to someone in the bathroom, telling them to go away, but no one else was there. It was just her. They’re saying she talks to ghosts.”

Jungkook frowned as he thought about that. It was true that he’d heard you talking to yourself before, but not in some crazy way. He’d never thought much about ghosts beyond the scary movies he sometimes watched with Jin, and he wasn’t sure he believed in them.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” he asked as he tossed the ball to Jimin again.

“I don’t know,” Jimin said with a shrug. “But I guess it doesn’t really matter if we believe in them or not if it’s something that scares her. I feel sorry for her, always sitting alone like she does.”

Jungkook thought about that as he played with his friends. When the food was ready, he loaded up a plate and took it over to join you where you sat on a blanket reading. “Happy birthday, y/n.”

You looked up and stared at him for a moment before replying. “Happy birthday.”

“I brought some food we can share,” he said as he sat down and placed the plate between you. He’d piled on hot dogs and short ribs and, at the last minute, he’d remembered that you liked his mom’s potato salad and bean salad. He probably should have used two plates because it was a little messy now.

Your eyes widened. “That’s a lot of food.”

“I eat a lot,” he admitted as he grabbed a hot dog. “These hot dogs are really good. My dad bought the good sausage for today.” When he offered it to you, you took it without protest.

You both ate in silence for a while as all the parents filled plates for the kids. Eventually Jungkook’s mom brought out the cake, much to his excitement. “Come on, we have to blow out the candles.”

He didn’t give you time to hang back like you always did. Your mom seemed surprised but pleased when you ran up together. “We’re lighting the candles so get your wishes ready.”

Jungkook bounced, excited as he thought about his wish. He looked over at you and asked, “Do you know what you’re gonna wish for?”

You shrugged. “I always make the same wish, but it never comes true. So I don’t care anymore.”

That dimmed his excitement. “Maybe you can tell your parents and they can help?”

“They can’t help me.”

Jungkook watched his mom light the candles as he thought about what you said. “Make it one more time.”

“Why?”

“Because I changed my wish, and you shouldn’t give up if you really want something.”

“But…”

“Just do it,” he said, nudging you forward.

“Fine,” you said, a grumpy tone to your voice.

You both waited until everyone finished singing and then Jungkook looked over at you. “Ready?”

You nodded, and together you blew out the candles on the cake.

“Why did you change your wish?” you asked as you waited for the cake cutting.

“My first wish was for a new game player,” he said. “But your wish must be important or you wouldn’t keep asking for it. So I wished that you would get your wish.”

It was a little embarrassing saying it out loud, but then you smiled and he realized it was the first time he’d ever seen you really smile.

After you ate your cake, Jungkook wanted to go into the water.

You shook your head when he suggested it. “I can’t swim and earlier I thought…”

“What?” he asked.

“I thought I saw something in the water,” you said quietly.

Jungkook remembered what Jimin had said earlier. It was a sunny day, and the water sparkled as kids splashed around in it. “You can wear a life jacket. And I’ll stay with you.”

______________________

You sat gingerly on the end of the pier and checked your life jacket buckles again. Looking out at the water, you wondered if you had just imagined that you saw something before. Now, the water looked inviting and fun. Jungkook jumped in and swam over to Jin to ask him to come swim with you. You saw them talking and then Jungkook gave you a thumbs up as he began swimming back towards you.

You lowered your legs over the side of the pier, testing the water with your toes. Suddenly, something swirled in the water near your right foot. Thinking it was a fish, you leaned forward to take a closer look and recoiled in horror when a woman’s face appeared below the surface. Before you could move back, a hand grasped your ankle and pulled you in.

The water was warm, but a chill invaded your entire body as you opened your eyes to see the waxy white face again, mouth open in a frozen, silent scream. The woman’s dark hair spread out around her like a cloud, blending into the shadowy depths as she began pulling you.

You kicked, arms flailing wildly, and broke free. Your life jacket bobbed you to the surface and you screamed as you dog paddled frantically towards Jungkook, who was only a couple of feet away.

Jungkook reached you and wrapped both arms around you as he pulled you towards the shore. Then you felt cold fingers wrap around your ankle again. You didn’t even have time to scream before you were pulled below the surface.

But this time Jungkook was there fighting with you, refusing to let go as he pulled back with all his strength. You kicked and kicked, finally freeing yourself a second time. Jin was there now, helping Jungkook pull you up, and the three of you surfaced, gasping for air.

You couldn’t stop shivering as Jin carried you out of the water, a concerned Jungkook right behind you. The shore was chaos as the other kids ran out of the water, and parents were crowding around trying to figure out what had happened.

Jungkook’s father quickly removed your lifejacket and wrapped a blanket around you as he asked Jin what happened.

“I don’t know,” Jin answered, sounding confused. “It was like a current pulled her down.”

“This lake doesn’t usually have strong currents,” his father said. “It’s been years since I heard about any kind of accident here.”

You were distantly aware of your mom and Jungkook’s mom both fussing around you, but you tuned them out and focused instead on Jungkook’s hand still grasping yours tightly. Eventually the adults moved away and began packing up the food since no one wanted to go back into the water.

When you were finally alone, Jungkook asked, “What was that?”

You stared at him. “Could you see her?”

He shook his head. “But I saw how you got pulled into the water. You didn’t fall – I’m sure of it. And under the water… I couldn’t see it, but I felt like something was there.”

“I’m not allowed to talk about this,” you said, staring down at your lap. “If my mom or my stepfather hear me, I’ll be in trouble.”

“Then just tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”

You swallowed, the metallic taste of fear on your tongue as you whispered. “Water ghost. She was so scary.”

Jungkook let go of your hand and for a horrible moment, you thought he might leave, as eager to be away from you as everyone else who thought you were strange. Instead he wrapped his arm around you.

“You see them at school too?”

“Sometimes,” you answered. “They don’t always know I can see them ‘cause I’m good at pretending I don’t. But sometimes they know, and then they get scary.”

“Can they all hurt you like she did?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No. Sometimes people walk right through ghosts. And I’ve seen a few ghosts move things, but they’ve never hurt me.”

“I wonder how she could do that then,” he said, staring out at the water. “And why she didn’t try to pull any other kids away.”

You didn’t answer, but you thought you knew why. It was because the water ghost had only wanted you.

____________________

You were ten when you realized you weren’t the only one who could see ghosts. Jungkook often stayed with his grandmother in summer, and when he did, you went with him. Nana assured your mother that she didn’t mind, and you knew that with the birth of the twins the previous year, your mother just didn’t have time for you anymore.

You and Jungkook had been inseparable since your eighth birthday party. After he’d talked to his mom, who’d talked to your mom, you and Jungkook had also been allowed to stay in the same class together each year. Teachers recognized that you had a calming effect on Jungkook, while he helped you venture out of your shell. He helped you be a little less afraid.

One hot afternoon in late summer, Nana made you both clean up and go with her to visit an old friend who had recently moved back to town.

“You’re not old enough to stay alone,” she insisted when Jungkook moaned about the visit. “And I think my friend will enjoy meeting you. You remind me a bit of her, y/n.”

Nana’s friend, Mrs. Kim, was a tall, imposing woman. She wore clothes with oddly clashing colors and patterns, and her back garden was a wild labyrinth of vines and bright flowers. Granted permission to play while the two elders became reacquainted, you and Jungkook explored the garden, picking honeysuckle and drinking the nectar.

When Nana called you in for a snack, you raced each other to the patio. Jungkook beat you as he always did, but he stopped at the door to let you go first. You were giggling when you walked inside and followed Nana to the sitting room, only to freeze as you saw the man sitting with Mrs. Kim on the loveseat. His neck was tilted at an odd angle, eyes on Mrs. Kim as she placed slices of cake on plates and added fresh fruit.

You must have made a sound because the man turned his pale eyes your way. You immediately looked down and shuffled backwards, bumping into Jungkook. You could tell by the way he stopped and then pressed close behind you, reaching for your hand, that he knew something was wrong.

“We should go wash our hands,” Jungkook said. Mrs. Kim directed you to the bathroom, and Jungkook pulled you behind him until you were far enough away not to be overheard. Then he turned wide eyes on you; you nodded in answer to his silent question.

“What kind?” he asked in a low voice.

“A man. Something’s wrong with his neck, like maybe he broke it before he died.” You shivered.

“What was he doing?”

“Nothing. Just sitting next to Mrs. Kim, watching her.”

Jungkook nodded. “You just have to pretend you don’t see him while we eat and then we’ll go outside again.”

After washing your hands, you followed Jungkook back to the sitting room, unsurprised when he sat nearest Mrs. Kim because ever since that day at the lake, it’s what he always did. The fact that he couldn’t see the danger didn’t matter to him – he still acted as a barrier between you and anything that he thought could hurt you.

You kept your eyes on your plate as you ate. You peeked over at Mrs. Kim once to find her watching you, a thoughtful expression on her face. The man was also watching you now, and you tugged urgently at Jungkook’s shorts.

Once you were excused, you both rushed back outside, where you felt you could finally breathe. “So scary. I really think he broke his neck in an accident or something.”

“Who do you think he is?” Jungkook asked as you sat in the grass near a bush with bright pink flowers.

You shrugged as you touched a finger to one of the petals. “I don’t know, but I think he’s haunting Mrs. Kim instead of the house. He was maybe your dad’s age, but his clothes look older.”

“How can you tell the difference?”

“I can’t – not exactly. I’m guessing because of the ghosts at school. They walk around the halls or have a favorite room, or like a favorite spot outside. They only notice students if they get annoyed about something, or if they realize I can see them. This ghost only watched Mrs. Kim until right at the end when he looked at me.”

“Mrs. Kim was looking at you too,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah.” It was weird, how they’d both looked at you like that.

You were playing rock paper scissors when the door opened, and Mrs. Kim walked out to the garden followed by the ghost. You shrank back behind Jungkook.

She sat on the little bench near the flowering bushes and handed them the juice she’d brought out. “Your nana says you two are always forgetting to drink enough when it’s hot.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook said. He passed one to you as you both sat in the grass, as far away as you could without being rude.

You kept your eyes down as Mrs. Kim talked to Jungkook – about school, and how long you’d been friends. “You know, your nana and I were best friends when we were your age, right up until we graduated from high school and got married. Then I moved away with my husband. He died in an accident twenty years ago. Broken neck.”

You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to look up.

“You can see him, can’t you, y/n?”

Shocked, you raised your head to look at Mrs. Kim. “What?”

“I can see him too. He’s been with me these past twenty years, refuses to go on without me, stubborn goat.”

You looked over at Jungkook, who was staring at Mrs. Kim, mouth open.

“I’ve been able to see them since I was at least four years old,” Mrs. Kim continued. “Was it the same for you?”

You nodded, still unable to believe she was like you. “I can’t really remember a time when I couldn’t see them.”

“Your ability to see and communicate with them will grow stronger as you get older. They’ll begin to recognize you as part of the otherworld.”

“What if I don’t want to see them or talk to them? I just want them to stay away from me.” You didn’t realize you were trembling until Jungkook scooted closer and put his arm around you.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” she replied quietly. “But as your ability grows, you will be able to learn how to manage them – how to block the weaker ones, and how to resist the stronger ones. You’ll find that you can help them move on. Until then, I can give you talismans that will protect you.”

____________

Mrs. Kim was true to her word. From that summer on, her paper talismans hung in your room, and you carried a jade protection amulet wherever you went. You’d learned that spraying salt water in the air was a simple method of disrupting the electromagnetic field of ghosts that were causing trouble.

Your mother ignored the talismans in your room, but you knew better than to talk about the ghosts you saw. And so Jungkook and Mrs. Kim were the only ones in whom you could confide your fears.

When you were thirteen, your father’s family requested that you spend two months at their home in the city. It was the first time you had seen them in over a year, and you’d never stayed with them before without your mother. It was also the first time you and Jungkook had been separated for more than a week since you were eight, and it triggered your anxiety. You’d packed your talismans and your amulet, but what if something happened? Jungkook and Mrs. Kim would be four hours away.

The weeks passed slowly. You were uncomfortable with your father’s family. They were extremely wealthy, and your grandfather was stern and cold. Your uncle wasn’t so bad, but he only returned to the family home at night. You had nothing in common with his wife or their daughter, who was five years younger than you.

You and Jungkook messaged and video chatted every day, but your grandfather kept you busy with music, art and French lessons, claiming that your education was sadly lacking. That summer was the first time that he brought up the idea of sending you to a boarding school abroad, stating that it would better prepare you for entering a prestigious university.

Your uncle’s driver took you home at the end of the summer, and your uncle accompanied you. He talked to you about the co-ed boarding school in England which both he and your father had attended, giving you several brochures to look over.

“I believe your father would be happy to know that you continued the tradition,” he told you. “Money is no concern. I’ve talked to your mother about continuing your art, music and language lessons this year, and I’ve opened an account for you where your allowance will be deposited each quarter. That money can be used to pay tutors and for whatever else you might want.”

“I don’t think I want to go to another country,” you said quietly, staring out the window.

“Well, you’re not in high school yet. Just think about it.”

Jungkook was sitting on your front steps with Jin, and he ran to the car when you pulled into your driveway. He slung an arm around your shoulders and rubbed his hand on top of your head, making you laugh.

“Stop,” you said as you pushed him back. “How are you like two inches taller?”

“I hit a growth spurt,” he replied proudly.

“About time,” Jin said as he took your bags from the driver. “Why do you have three bags now when you left with one?”

“My aunt took me shopping,” you explained.

Your uncle passed you the brochures you’d left on the car seat. Nodding to Jin and Jungkook, he patted your shoulder. “Think about it, okay? This could be a good experience for you.”

After he left, you turned back to Jungkook and Jin, who were looking at the brochures you held.

“What does he want you to think about?” Jin asked.

You held up the brochures as you took one of the suitcases. “Boarding school. The same one he and my dad went to. My grandfather barely acknowledged my existence before now, except sending money to my mom twice a year, but suddenly I’m his summer project.”

“Boarding school where?”

“England.”

Jin whistled. “That must be expensive.”

“Money’s the one thing they’re not lacking, so…”

“But you’re not going, right?” Jungkook suddenly asked.

“I told him I would look at these brochures and think about it, but no. I don’t really want to go.”

“Well, then you should just throw them away. There’s no point looking at them if you’re not going.”

You frowned at the edge in his tone. “Why do you sound mad?”

“I’m not mad, I just think it’s a stupid idea,” he answered.

“Ignore him, y/n. He missed you this summer, even if he won’t admit it, and now you’re talking about moving to England. He’s feeling abandoned.” Jin laughed and ducked when Jungkook threw a mock punch at him.

You greeted your mother, stepfather and younger siblings before following Jin and Jungkook up the stairs to your room. Jin left after he helped you get the bags upstairs, but Jungkook stayed and watched as you unzipped your suitcases and began sorting through your things. Your talismans came out first, and Jungkook hung them for you as you put away your new clothes.

“If you really have to keep up with the lessons this year, you should use the same art teacher I use. She’s really good, and then we could do them together.”

“Okay.” You turned around to see Jungkook looking at the brochures.

“This place looks haunted as hell, y/n.”

“Your mom will beat you if she hears you cursing,” you reminded him.

“Well, it does. Look haunted, I mean. Who even knows how many ghosts are wandering around a centuries old school like this.” Jungkook shook his head and tossed the brochures into the trash can next to your desk. “Tell your uncle thanks but no thanks.”

“So did you decide where you want to have our birthday party next week?” You took turns each year, choosing the location and cake, and this year was Jungkook’s turn.

“The arcade,” he said, ignoring your groan. “Come on, we’ll have fun playing the games. Mom said you should come for dinner tonight and help think about the cake. I get the arcade, and I’ll eat whatever cake you want.”

“Okay. I need to ask my mom, but they probably won’t care.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear your mom and stepfather arguing as you walked down the stairs and around the corner to see them standing at the kitchen island.

“She’s still hanging paper around her room to ward off ghosts, for God’s sake. Remember that the twins heard her talking about ghosts to Jungkook last year and still won’t sleep with the lights off. I’m just saying that if her father’s family want her to live with them, we should consider it. And the boarding school might be good for her.”

“You know that I promised her father I wouldn’t let them influence her upbringing too much.” Your mother sighed. “I know that her eccentricities complicate things, but I can’t break that promise. If she decides to go to boarding school, she’ll only be with us for another year anyway.”

You shouldn’t be surprised to hear them talking about you; you knew that, but it still hurt. The chasm between you and your mother had widened over the years until you barely talked about anything that wasn’t related to helping out with household chores or schoolwork. You jumped as Jungkook cleared his throat loudly.

“We were just going to my house for dinner if that’s okay,” Jungkook said. “We’re still planning our birthday party.”

“Oh.” Your mom bit her lip as she looked at you, obviously wondering if you’d heard them talking. “You just got home, but I suppose that’s fine. Don’t stay too late.”

You nodded and allowed Jungkook to lead you outside. You made it to the end of the driveway before Jungkook spoke. “Your stepfather sucks. Asshole.”

You swallowed down the tears threatening. “You can’t blame him for thinking I’m weird, and wishing his kids weren’t exposed to it. We have to be more careful what we talk about with the twins around.”

“Yeah, I can blame him. He married your mom knowing she had a kid, and that makes you his kid too. He’s never been that nice to you, even before the twins were born. Asshole.”

You laughed.

“You know my parents love you right? And Jin too. He missed you almost as much as I did this summer.”

“Aww, so you did miss me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up and let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

_____________

High school was a new world. Your grandfather wasn’t pleased with your decision to stay at your local school but when you didn’t budge from your decision, he shifted his attention to making sure you were properly prepped for university. You still spent at least six weeks with them every summer, and you’d continued extra music, art and language lessons.

Jin had gone to university and only came home for holidays, so you spent more and more of your time at Jungkook’s house. Jungkook played varsity baseball and was often busy with training programs for a few hours after school. His growth spurts meant he’d long outgrown you, at least vertically, something he liked rubbing in when he propped his arm on top of your head. He was losing his baby fat too, and out of nowhere he suddenly had a jawline that the girls in school noticed.

He wasn’t the only one changing. Mrs. Kim had been right when she told you that your ability to see and communicate with ghosts would grow as you got older. You were sixteen now, and the older you got, the more they seemed drawn to you.

“Somehow, they’re able to recognize those of us who can see the otherworld,” Mrs. Kim explained one afternoon when you and Jungkook visited her. “We shine a little brighter for them, I suppose, or they’re drawn to our energy. This is especially true for the ones who feel they left unfinished business behind.”

“They’re following her now – sometimes to school, sometimes to her house,” Jungkook told her. “There has to be a way to stop that. Isn’t there some kind of banishing talisman?”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Jungkook.” She looked over at you. “I told you years ago that the talismans were only meant to be a partial protection. They’re best used to protect small spaces, like your bedroom when you’re sleeping. They cannot be used to forever shield you from the otherworld. You have to learn to communicate with them, y/n, and stand firm when they push back against you. If you learn to push back against them, you’ll be able to block their energy. But in order to do that, you’ll have to allow yourself to come into contact with them.”

“No,” Jungkook replied flatly. “That water ghost almost killed her eight years ago, and last year one of them pushed her into traffic. Confronting them is too dangerous.”

“But if she doesn’t confront them and learn to wield this power she possesses, she’ll forever lead a half-life hiding from shadows.” Mrs. Kim raised her brows. “Are you going to hide in the shadows and live that half-life with her?”

Those words stayed with you as the school year ended. You had two more years of high school left and then it would be time for university. Jungkook was already talking about which universities you could apply to together. He was hoping to get an athletic scholarship, which is why he’d become so serious about baseball. Jin had gone to university on a drama scholarship, something that had helped a lot with expenses.

Money wasn’t a problem for you, but how would this work? Would you just follow Jungkook to whichever university he attended? Would he follow you to yours? And what would happen after university? At some point, you’d have to part ways in the world, at least to some extent. As Mrs. Kim had pointed out, he couldn’t stay with you in the shadows forever. You were surprised that Jungkook didn’t already have a girlfriend given how many girls were hovering around him lately, and you were sure that a girlfriend would absolutely hate you for taking up all of his time.

________________

The end-of-the-year party at Jimin’s house was in full swing, and Jungkook had lost track of you about an hour ago while he was dancing with Grace, a girl he’d been quietly crushing on for the last few months. She was one of the most popular girls at school though and getting time alone with her was difficult. He thought she liked him back, but she’d danced with two other guys after dancing with him.

The only girl he really understood was you, but you didn’t act like other girls. You never showed an interest in the boys at school, or in dating, and you had never befriended any of the girls either. Grace had been friendly towards you, but she was also good friends with Hanna and Lily, and so you seemed wary of her. He could understand that since he knew Hanna and Lily had been horrible to you in the past, on numerous occasions. But he also thought it was unfair to blame Grace by association since she’d only recently moved to their town.

Jungkook wandered outside to the pool area and finally spotted Jimin. “Hey, have you seen y/n?”

“Yeah, about thirty minutes ago? She was with Lucas.”

He frowned. “What the hell is she doing with Lucas?” Lucas was on the baseball team with him and he was the one guy he didn’t get along with. He was popular, but Jungkook had heard him say gross things about girls, and he could be a bully.

Jimin shrugged. “I don’t know. They were with a group playing truth or dare and then someone said they left together.”

Jungkook couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling as he searched the crowd for you. He’d tried calling you, but your phone was off, or maybe dead – you were always forgetting to keep it charged. Relief surged through him when he finally found you sitting in a quiet spot on the front porch.

“Geez, y/n, can you not disappear like that? Or at least keep your phone on?”

You looked up and smiled at him. “Sorry. I thought you were still with Grace.”

He sat down next to you on the swing, pushing off gently to get it moving again. “Jimin said he saw you with Lucas.”

“Hmm.”

He waited for you to continue, but you stayed quiet. “Why?”

“He pulled me into their game of truth or dare when I was walking by. I didn’t really want to play but then I thought, it’s a party, and maybe I should just… try to have fun? So I played. Lucas admitted he liked someone in the circle, and they dared him to kiss the girl he likes. Then he kissed me.”

Jungkook was stunned. And pissed. “I am going to beat his ass.” He stood but paused when you grabbed his arm and pulled him down again.

“It’s fine. Well, it’s not, but it wasn’t much of a kiss. His lips were kind of dry,” you admitted. “Kissing Lucas during a game of truth or dare at Jimin’s house isn’t the kind of story I imagined for my first kiss, but at least it’s over with, I guess.”

“He’s already slept with two girls in our class, and we’re barely halfway through high school. You shouldn’t be going anywhere alone with him. He talks shit about girls in the locker room, y/n, so don’t let him fool you.” He was getting angrier the longer he thought about it, and he really would beat Lucas’ ass if he heard your name out of him even once.

You looked over at him in surprise. “I didn’t go anywhere alone with him.”

“Jimin said you left together.”

“No, I didn’t. I left after he kissed me and went to the bathroom. He followed me and asked if he could take me home later, but I told him I was here with you. Then I came out here, alone.”

“Oh.” That made him feel a little better, but not much. The idea of Lucas’ lips anywhere near you made him want to hit something. You were way too good for a guy who showed the bare minimum of respect to girls even when he was dating them and then trash talked them after he was done.

“First kiss with Lucas is a real low point for the year, I have to admit,” you said with humor. “He’s cute but not really my type… ow!” You glared at him, rubbing your forehead where he’d just thumped you. “Why did you do that?”

“He’s cute? Are you blind?”

You sighed. “I know you hate him, but now you’re just being unreasonable. It’s not like your first kiss was much better.”

“For the record, Hanna kissed me, not the other way around,” he reminded you. “It’s not like I wanted her to.”

“Whatever. Though it’s kind of funny that both our first kisses were with someone the other hates. It shouldn’t even count since it’s not like they asked for consent first.”

Jungkook looked over at you. He hadn’t really noticed before how pretty you looked tonight. You were wearing a silky green tank top with a gossamer thin white cardigan, and the gold locket you’d gotten for your sixteenth birthday hung around your neck. Since it had belonged to your paternal grandmother and held a photo of your father, you rarely took it off.

He thought about the other photo he knew was there, one his mother had taken at Halloween when you were ten. It was the year you’d discovered that old Ghostbusters movie and Jungkook had convinced you to wear matching Ghostbusters costumes. You’d had a miniature made for your locket, and he carried the same photo in his wallet. So many of his best memories included you.

“Let’s make it not count then,” he suddenly said.

You looked over at him again, a questioning look on your face. Before he could give himself too much time to think about it, he leaned forward, pausing when he got close to you, giving you a chance to move away if you wanted to. Then you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his.

Your lips were softer than he’d expected. The kiss only lasted a few seconds; he licked his lips when you pulled back, tasting the berry flavored lip gloss you used. He took a breath, surprised that his heart was racing.

“It’s the first because we chose it, right?” You looked happy about that, your hand reaching up to touch your locket.

“Yeah.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Let’s go home.”

_______________

You spent six weeks that summer at your grandfather’s house and when you returned, Jungkook was following Grace around like a puppy. You told yourself that you were happy for him even as your heart sank whenever you saw them together. It was silly and you knew it, so you did your best to ignore that feeling and support him. She was nice enough, but you kept your distance since Grace was friends with Hanna and Lily. Regardless of what Jungkook believed, you weren’t sure a really nice girl would be friends with the literal mean girls of your high school.

Jungkook was being scouted by universities by the time baseball season started. You were only juniors, and he probably wouldn’t get any offers until the following year, but it was a big deal that coaches were already talking to him. Just as you had every year he played, you watched his practices and attended every game with his parents, cheering him on.

The coach from Gettis University had visited twice, something the whole school was talking about. It was an old and well-respected university located five hours north of your town, and one of the best universities in the country. You knew that Jungkook was leaning towards studying filmmaking since he enjoyed shooting and editing videos, and Gettis had an outstanding film program. The tuition prices were outrageous but with a scholarship, it would be an incredible opportunity for him.

It was also known as one of the most haunted college campuses in the country. Because the university was located near an area where several bloody battles had been fought, tales of campus ghosts fueled the local folklore and had inspired many creepypasta tales. The Gothic inspired architecture lent credibility to the stories, and students leaned into it, throwing elaborate Halloween parties and hosting infamous haunted houses each October.

The idea of attending college there filled you with a deep dread that you tried to hide from Jungkook. Despite that, you knew that he was aware of it because every time his parents talked to him about college options, he dismissed the idea of attending Gettis.

You hated it. Hated that you were so fragile that he felt he had to turn down an opportunity like that. Hated that you were also too selfish to tell him he should go without you. Most of all, you hated that you were so terrified that you couldn’t think about Gettis without breaking into a cold sweat.

It was a topic that you had carefully avoided talking to each other about, but the time was rapidly approaching when you’d both have to make decisions about your future, and the last thing you wanted was to hold him back. It always brought you back to what Mrs. Kim had told you – that unless you learned to control your ability to see and interact with the otherworld, you would condemn both yourself and Jungkook to a half life hiding from shadows.

You were trying to think of a way to broach the topic one afternoon after baseball practice as Jungkook walked with you to the library. You’d been talking to Mrs. Kim recently about ways to control your ability, and ways to safely confront ghosts, something you knew Jungkook wouldn’t agree with. You hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to test any of Mrs. Kim’s suggestions yet, but you were hoping that you could convince Jungkook to help.

You cleared your throat. “So I was thinking…”

A car horn interrupted you. Turning, you saw Grace pull up in her red convertible with a friendly wave.

“Hey you,” she said, smiling at Jungkook. “A bunch of us are headed to the lake now that it’s warm enough. I know you two usually study on Wednesdays but come on – it’s such a waste of a nice afternoon.”

When Jungkook hesitated, Grace added, “Of course you’re welcome to come too, y/n.”

You hadn’t been to that lake since your eighth birthday, and everyone in school knew that. Grace had even commented on it before, so you knew it was an empty offer meant to appease Jungkook.

You could see that he was about to refuse, so you stopped him. “You should go. It sounds like fun.” When he didn’t say anything, you gave him a little push. “Seriously, go. I’ll help you study tomorrow.”

He smiled at you. “Okay. But let me know when you’re ready to walk home and I’ll come walk with you. You shouldn’t be walking alone after dark.”

You nodded, watching as he got in the car and they drove away. You continued on to the library, stopping to talk to Jimin when you arrived. His mom was the librarian and he often studied there with you and Jungkook. Today he was behind the desk, helping his mom scan in a backlog of book returns.

“Where’s Jungkook?” he asked as you leaned against the counter.

“With Grace at the lake.”

“Yeah, I heard a bunch of people were headed there this afternoon,” he replied. “If you want to grab a table, I’ll come join you as soon as I’m done.”

You and Jimin studied for the next two hours and when you were done with your homework, you wandered over to the stacks to look for a book that Mrs. Kim had recommended you read. From the corner of your eye you saw a man move between rows of books. He looked familiar, so you turned to look at him. You froze, eyes automatically shifting away when you realized that he wasn’t a man at all.

You’d also seen him before. He’d been outside the farmer’s market one weekend, and you’d seen him near the school. That you were now seeing him at the library meant he was probably following you. You could feel your palms start to sweat. You concentrated on breathing for a moment, willing your heartbeat to slow as you counted in your head.

This was an opportunity. He wasn’t like the water ghost, and he wasn’t full of the menacing energy you’d briefly felt from the ghost who had pushed you into traffic two years ago.

Swallowing hard, you ran your fingers over the pocket of the lightweight jacket you were still wearing in the chilly library, feeling both the stone of your protection amulet and the small spray bottle of salt water you kept with you at all times. You’d used the saltwater spray a handful of times over the years, finding that once their energy was disrupted, nuisance ghosts usually disappeared and often didn’t seek you out again.

Slowly, you looked up at the man. He was older than you but still young, and if he wasn’t so eerily still and pale, you might have thought him handsome. His dark hair was cut in an old-fashioned, feathery style that reminded you of the album covers of 70s rock bands that your stepfather had in his record collection.

“Hi,” you said, your voice shaking. “Do you… do you need help?” You’d never tried to talk to any of the ghosts before, and you had no idea what you should say, but offering help seemed like a good first step.

The man moved closer. You were amazed by just how solid he looked, much more so than when you’d seen him outside. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, and something about them drew you in. Unable to look away, you remained still as he continued moving towards you, feeling an almost drunken heaviness suffuse your limbs. He reached out; almost as if disconnected from your body, you felt your hand meet his halfway.

The scorching heat from his fingers was a shock, as was the spark of electricity that zapped you back to awareness. You jerked backwards with a gasp, reaching into your pocket for the saltwater spray. “Please, if you need help, I’ll try to help…” you broke off as you heard a popping sound behind you.

You stood, frozen in horror as the wall socket next to the reading nook popped and sparked with electricity. Before the man could move closer again, you sprayed the saltwater into the air between you. He shimmered brightly, dissolved into the air, and then reappeared so suddenly you had no time to react. An orange glow seemed to burn within his eyes when he reached for you again.

This time his touch burned through the fabric of your jacket, and the floor beneath you shook as you screamed in pain and horror. He shimmered again and you fell backwards, dimly aware that the smoke and flames behind you were from the armchair which had caught fire. The lights above you flickered out, and you curled into a ball, arms over your head.

You screamed again when you felt hands on your back until you realized it was Jimin trying to lift you off the floor.

That was the last thing you remembered until waking in the hospital to find Jungkook asleep in a chair beside your bed. He’d fallen asleep holding your hand and looked exhausted. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing when you last saw him, with the addition of his well-loved black hoodie.

The memory of what happened in the library came back when you saw the bandages on your left forearm, and you couldn’t stop the fear that raced through you. The steady beeping of your heart monitor increased sharply, jolting Jungkook awake as you gasped for breath.

Your head swam. Two nurses rushed in, and through bleary eyes you saw your mother behind them. You thought Jungkook was speaking, but you couldn’t understand through the rushing sound in your ears. The darkness slipped in again.

You woke again the next morning to Jungkook, pale and tense beside you, still holding your hand.

“You’re okay,” he said quickly, leaning in to cup the side of your head. “Just look at me for a minute and breathe. You have to breathe slowly, remember?”

Your heart was pounding again. It had been a couple of years since you’d had a severe panic attack, but you recognized it, as did Jungkook. You closed your eyes and concentrated on breathing as you listened to him count. Gradually your heart rate slowed.

You were calmer when the doctor came in to examine the palm shaped burn on your arm. You hadn’t imagined it then, you thought dimly. The man had burned you with a touch. You had never considered that a ghost could harm you like that – that something scarier than water ghosts existed. Your mother was talking to the doctor about the library fire, the assumption being that you must have been sitting in the chair that caught fire when a power surge overloaded the electrical system.

Jungkook obviously knew something much worse had happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it yet. You couldn’t speak at all. You thought you might shatter from the inside out if you did. You didn’t want to eat or drink either until the nurse explained to your mother and Jungkook that your body needed the sugar due to the shock you’d been through. As long as you didn’t feel sick or vomit, you needed to try eating and drinking.

After that, Jungkook was relentless, coaxing you to drink juice and eat small bites of food every hour. You didn’t want it, but you didn’t have it in you to refuse when he looked so worried. His mother arrived in the afternoon, bringing your favorite fresh fruit, some homemade food and a change of clothes for Jungkook.

His mother sat with you while he washed up since your mom had gone to pick up the twins from school. You were still on a saline drip and the doctor had said you wouldn’t be discharged until tomorrow at the earliest because your blood pressure and blood sugar were still low.

A bone deep weariness had settled in by evening, but you were afraid to sleep. You heard Jungkook’s mother urging your mom to go home and get some rest since she’d been awake all night, promising that she and Jungkook would stay with you, but you didn’t look at your mother when she said goodbye. You felt oddly detached from her; whether she stayed or left didn’t really matter when you knew she’d never believe you if you tried to tell her what happened to you.

That night after his mom fell asleep on the sofa, Jungkook whispered, “Please talk to me, y/n. You’re scaring me.”

You looked at him, sitting there next to you, still holding your hand. You wondered what your lives would be like now if you had never moved here. You were sure that your life would be worse while his would undoubtedly be better.

“One of them…” your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat. “He followed me. I tried… tried to talk to him. And he… he…”

When you stopped talking, Jungkook asked, “Did he start the fire? Is that how you got burned?”

You shook your head and tried again. “He burned me when he… he touched me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and the tears finally came, quietly.

“You’re okay now,” he said. He grabbed the box of tissues off the table and climbed onto the bed with you, carefully pulling you to him as he rested his chin against the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

____________

But it wasn’t okay. You spent the final two months of the school year at home, completing your assignments online. Jungkook diligently took notes in class, and Jimin shared his notes as well. The teachers allowed you to come and take exams in a quiet room alone.

The only place you felt safe was in your bedroom with the talismans protecting your space. You had no idea what happened to the ghost at the library, but you were terrified that he might find you. Sleeping with the lights on was your new normal when you slept at all.

Your mom suggested counseling to help you deal with your anxiety. You went along with it, though you didn’t see the point. A therapist couldn’t help with something they didn’t know or understand, and it’s not like you could tell the woman what you were really afraid of. The best she could offer was advice on how to deal with your panic attacks and general anxiety. They were coping mechanisms that would do little to help you get to the root of the problem.

The one person who could help was also someone you didn’t want to talk to. Nana had visited with Mrs. Kim, but you’d told your mom that you didn’t want to see them. Your stepfather and the twins gave you space, rarely venturing into your bedroom, and you rarely ventured out. The only people you talked to besides the therapist, who came to your house twice a week, were Jungkook and his mom. Jin was in his last year at university, but he messaged you daily, making you smile with his terrible jokes.

Mrs. Kim had gone abroad to stay with her daughter in May. Nana brought over a small box that she said Mrs. Kim had asked her to give you, but you hadn’t opened it yet. It sat in your closet, buried beneath your schoolbooks you’d put away for the summer.

Then, one sunny day in early June, Nana went for a walk at the lake. It was her favorite spot because it was where she’d met her late husband. She’d always said she felt closer to him there than she did at his grave. She sat on the bench where he’d proposed so many years before, and her heart quietly gave out.

Jungkook was inconsolable. You tried to be there for him as he had been there for you in the past, but he held his grief in. You mustered up every bit of courage you possessed to stand with him at her grave site for the funeral services, heart in your throat and jumping at every shadow or slight noise.

You looked for her that day – at the grave site, and at the wake. You didn’t know how to explain it, but you were certain that she had moved on, that nothing had held her back. She’d found her peace and returned to her husband.

Jungkook didn’t believe you. You knew it was because on the day she died, Nana had asked him to walk with her as he often did. But on that particular day, he’d chosen to meet Grace for ice cream, and he couldn’t forgive himself.

“She said she wanted to talk to me about something. We were going to talk the next day,” he told you. He was sad, and angry, and after a week of stoicism, he began lashing out at everyone.

He’d begged you to go back to the grave site with him and you did. The anxiety of being there for hours, waiting for a spirit you knew would never come while avoiding the others who came and went, sometimes getting entirely too close to you for your sanity, took its toll. You spent the night in your bathroom, vomiting, sweating and angry with yourself for being so weak when Jungkook needed you.

The next day, he asked you to go to the lake with him.

“I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. The very idea made you want to vomit again.

“Please, y/n. Please.” He grabbed your hands, the pleading in his dark eyes making you feel like the worst friend for denying him.

“She’s not there, Jungkook. I can’t explain it, but I feel…”

“You don’t know that!” He let go of your hands and stood up, his anger spilling over, this time at you. “All these years, I never fucking asked you for anything. I’ve spent ten years adjusting my life to your fears and paranoia. I fight with my girlfriend because of you. I can’t even fucking go to the college I want to go to because I have to worry about how that affects you. And you can’t do this one thing for me?”

He was breathing heavily, not looking at you now as you stared at him, unable to believe the things he’d just said to you. You tried to tell yourself he didn’t mean it, that he was just hurting and angry, but you weren’t so sure. Maybe this was the sum total of the things you’d avoided talking about even when you knew that you were holding him back.

Before you could think of what to say, he turned and left, slamming your bedroom door behind him. You heard his footsteps down the stairs, and then there was nothing but the silence he left in his wake.

In all the years you’d been friends with Jungkook, you’d never seen him that angry. Typically, he was slow to anger, and he wasn’t one to hold grudges either. You were the one that held grudges for the both of you. But after two days passed without hearing from him, you knew this time was different.

Everyone tried to mediate since they didn’t know why you were fighting. Your messages to Jungkook went unanswered, and he’d refused to come out of his room when you finally went to his house to talk to him. Jin sat on your porch with you that afternoon, poking and prodding to try and figure out what was going on. You just told him that it was your fault because it was. Deep down, you felt like Jungkook had a right to be angry with you.

Two weeks later, Jungkook left for baseball camp.

There was almost a sense of relief you felt now that he was gone. Jin had come to talk to you again, telling you that he was sure that Jungkook was going to be feeling shitty about this whole thing by the end of the summer, and making a point to remind you that he couldn’t call even if he wanted to because he wasn’t allowed to have his phone for the month-long camp.

You didn’t say it, but you were beginning to think a clean break would be best for everyone. You talked to your uncle, quietly making plans without bothering to discuss it with your mother. And when you felt ready, you took out the box that Mrs. Kim had sent to you. You read the long letter, set aside the new talismans, and examined the jade Taoist amulet she’d included. Somehow, you weren’t surprised that she was prescient enough to know this time would come.

That night, you went to the lake.

________________________

Jungkook was surprised to see Jin waiting for him when he left the camp facility. “I thought Mom was picking me up.”

Jin opened the trunk, took his bag and tossed it inside. “She was, but I need to talk to you, so I told her I’d do it.”

“I thought you’d still be mad at me,” Jungkook said as he got in the car. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing down his nerves. Baseball camp had been physically exhausting, but nothing had been able to drown out the horrible, horrible things he’d said before he left. They played on a loop as he lay in his bunk at night, and he saw your face when he closed his eyes.

“I am,” Jin said shortly. “You weren’t the only person who was sad about Nana, Jungkook. You’re just the only person who was super shitty about it, to everyone.”

He supposed he deserved that. “Do you have my phone?” It was a two-hour drive home, but he didn’t want to wait that long to call you. He wasn’t sure if you’d answer, but he needed to at least try.

“Yes, but I know who you’re going to call, and we need to talk first.”

Jin pulled into a small roadside diner. They sat in a back booth and ordered drinks and the lunch special, pulled barbecue sandwiches. Jin waited until he’d finished his sandwich before he spoke again.

Wiping his hands, he pushed his plate away and asked, “What exactly happened between you and y/n?”

Jungkook looked away. “I said some things to her that I should never have said. I don’t even know why I said them. I was just sad, and mad, and I’d already lashed out at everybody else. She was the only one left.”

“When I asked y/n, she said it was her fault,” Jin said. “She seemed to think she deserved your anger. Why would she think that?”

“Look, Jin, I appreciate that you tried to fix this, but I really need to talk to y/n. This is personal, between me and her. Can you give me my phone, please?”

Jin reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone, handing it over without another word.

Jungkook turned it on and gave the voice command to call you. After a moment, he heard a toneless voice saying the number was no longer in service. Annoyed, he went to his contacts and selected your name, again waiting for the call to connect.

Jin was sitting, arms crossed when he looked up. “What the hell is going on?”

“She changed her number.”

“Okay. What’s her new number?”

“See, I don’t know because she didn’t give it to anyone before she left.”

Jungkook set the phone down on the table, a sick feeling twisting in his gut. “I don’t understand.”

“About a week after you left, y/n’s mom called late one night to say she was missing. She wasn’t in the house, her phone was on her desk, no note, nothing. She had already driven around looking for her, but it was getting late, and she was worried, so we got some neighbors together to search for her. We couldn’t officially file a missing persons report, but Dad called a friend at the police department. They had patrol officers looking, and one of them said he remembered seeing a girl walking down by the lake at sunset.”

“She hasn’t been to the lake in ten years,” Jungkook said flatly. “There’s no way she’d go down there alone at night.”

“That’s what we thought too, but we looked just in case. No luck. I told Dad maybe we needed to come get you because if anyone would know where she might go, it would be you. But then another patrolman called to say he’d found her sitting on the pier at the lake. Apparently, she’d been there all night and when Dad and I got there, she was wet, like she’d been in the water.”

Jungkook shook his head. “No. She can’t swim, and she hates the water, even the pool.” If she’d gone there looking for Nana, he’d never forgive himself. “She was okay though, right?”

“Physically, yes – cold but not hurt. But the way she just stared out at the water gave me the chills, Jungkook. When I asked her why she’d gone down there, the only thing she’d say was that she needed to know if she could do it. Do what, I don’t know, but that was her answer.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “You said she left. Did she go to her grandfather?” If he could catch the early afternoon train, he could be there by this evening.

“She left the country, Jungkook. Packed her bags, and when her uncle’s driver pulled up, she told her mom that she was going to that boarding school. All of ten minutes notice before she was in the car driving away. She called once after she arrived in England, and that’s the last time any of us heard from her.”

Jungkook couldn’t collect his thoughts as they drove home. All he could think of for the last couple of weeks was fixing the mess he’d made. He’d imagined many scenarios – some where you accepted his apology and things went back to normal, and others where you refused to speak to him. The latter was what he deserved, but he’d been so sure that he’d be able to fix it eventually.

“Do you remember the name that was on those brochures?” Jungkook asked. “I remember looking at them, but I can’t remember the name of that damn school.”

“No and believe me when I say I’ve been trying to remember. I even got her uncle’s number and called him, but he very politely told me that he supported y/n’s decision to cut ties with, and I quote, emotionally damaging people. I don’t even think her mother knows exactly where she is, probably because y/n thinks her mom would tell our mom, who would tell us, so yeah. Basically, we know she’s in England. In case of emergency, her uncle will get in touch with her.”

When they pulled up to their house, Jungkook got out and immediately went to your house. When your mom answered the door, she looked both surprised and dismayed to see him. “She’s not here, Jungkook. I thought Jin was going to talk to you about this.”

“I know, but I left something in her room. Can I go up and get it?”

She hesitated for a moment before letting him in. He took the stairs two at a time and opened your bedroom door. The air already smelled stale, and there was an abandoned air to the room now. Your favorite books weren’t on the bookshelf, and your closet was mostly empty. It was shameless, but he searched all of your drawers, looking for any hint about the school you were attending. After ten minutes, he was forced to admit defeat.

There was a box on your desk that looked familiar. Then he remembered that Mrs. Kim had left a box just like this one with Nana to give to you. He opened it to find the well-worn talismans that used to hang around your room. There was also a photo album – when he opened it, he found photos and news clippings of every baseball game he’d ever played, beginning with his t-ball years.

Instinctively, he knew this must be something you’d worked on for his birthday. You’d known that he would come looking for you, and you’d left the box out for him. Next was a hoodie he’d been looking for, not realizing he’d left it in your room. And at the very bottom of the box was a note with your neat handwriting sloping across the paper.

“Happy birthday. My wish for both of us is that we can be free.”

He’d thought the worst pain he’d probably ever feel was when Nana died but somehow, this pain was worse. It was an ache that hollowed him out, that made his jaw clench and his hands tremble. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring down at that note. It was proof that you really didn’t know how important you were to him because if you did, you never would have left like this. You had decided that the best thing for both of you was to be free of each other, and that was on him.

When he heard a noise behind him, he wiped at a tear that slid down his cheek and turned to see your little sister, Emmie, standing in the doorway.

Emmie looked around the room and said, “I knew she was packing, but I thought she was gonna go to her dad’s family like she does every summer. You made her cry, you know.”

The little girl looked so much like you did when you were her age. It was in the way her hair parted, and how she tilted her head when she looked at him. The big eyes, and the stubborn chin – they were all little parts of you. It made his heart ache.

“I know. I wanted to tell her I’m sorry.”

“If you didn’t come, I was supposed to take that box to you. But you already found it.”

“Did she tell you anything else?”

“I don’t have her number,” she said bluntly. “Jin already asked me and Robbie. She just said we should be good and she’d send us presents from England.”

Jungkook took one last look around your room. The lucky pig you’d won at the arcade for your birthday still sat on your bed, so he picked it up and put it in the box. The pressed flower bookmark you’d made in middle school went in next – it was your birth flower. He found two mixtapes in your desk drawer, remnants of that weird CD burning phase you went through when everyone else was making playlists.

He added a few stray photos his grandmother had taken of you both using her ancient Polaroid, a book of poems you loved, and the silver charm bracelet you’d stopped wearing when the clasp broke last year. He’d given you at least half the charms on that bracelet anyway, so it was half his.

When Emmie raised her brows at his blatant theft, he shrugged. “Tell her she’ll have to talk to me if she wants her stuff back.”

Back at his house, he put the box in his closet and thought about the year ahead. Almost as far back as he could remember, you’d celebrated your birthdays together. This year, he’d be alone. He wouldn’t walk to school with you, and you wouldn’t share classes. You wouldn’t be on the bleachers during his baseball games, holding up your hand drawn signs. There would be no silly, senior year prom poses together. He’d graduate alone.

But you’d have to come back eventually. Maybe for the holidays, or at least before college. When you did, he’d do whatever it took to fix this.

#college au #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts imagines #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ghosted

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corinnesamuels · 3 years

Text

Guarding the Gates, Chapter 3: No More Questions, Please.

. . . the Ministry of Magic requests that anyone with information on the whereabouts of any of the aforementioned witches and wizards listed as missing contacts the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at their earliest convenience, as their families would like to see them home. Up next: The Ministry of Magic reports the recent hurricanes reported in the West Country are the work of giants in league with You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters—

“Merlin and fucking Morgana.” Lily curses, running a hand over her face roughly in frustration. The mental notes she had been taking were beginning to look like a NEWT-level essay, but she still hadn’t gotten word that it was time to start working. She watched the skies each morning for owls and even checked the muggle post. Dumbledore had always been peculiar, and if she didn’t know better, she might have thought he’d forgotten.

“I would advise you to rest up, Lily.” He had said in their last meeting. “Once we begin in earnest, breaks may be few and far between.

Lily sighs and lets her attention drift back to the wireless. They had shifted from missing persons and calamities to the upcoming Celestina Warbeck concert. It was almost odd to catch the juxtaposition, but people do need joy in times like these.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Lily looks up to see a barn owl tapping at her window. She opens the window and offers up pieces of bacon to the owl, which hoots happily as it sticks out a leg. Lily unties it and begins to do a quick scan, but the first line lets her know that it wasn’t from Dumbledore.

I’m back, bitches!

Lily laughs out loud, recognizing the telltale greeting style of one Dorcas Meadowes. Lily guesses that Dorcas just sent the same letter to her, Marlene, and Mary to save time. Dorcas talked a bit about her time with family over in the States.

Disco is dying, sadly, but there’s this new upbeat thing happening that I expect to really take off. They’re calling it “rap.” Race relations are still shit, but there’s a little progress, at least. I was hoping I’d be able to at least say the same about pureblood mania in England by the time I got back, but by the looks of things, the opposite has happened.

“You’re right about that.” Lily says to herself dejectedly. At the end of Dorcas’ letter, she recommends they get together soon, and Lily couldn’t agree more. She writes a quick note saying that she can’t wait to catch up and offers up her flat as the gathering place. Lily taps the letter with her wand three times to duplicate it and sends the letters back off with Dorcas’ owl. As it flies away, she thinks of how excited she is to see them, but how difficult it might be for Mary. Lily hopes that gathering in a private place will help make Mary comfortable enough to join them but understands if it doesn’t. Mary had been more timid than the other girls in their year, and a timid muggle born was unfortunately too easy of a target for the Death-Eaters-in-Training over in Slytherin House. Since they’d finished school, Mary had taken a job in muggle London. Not sure that she wanted to risk being the focus of more attacks, she limited her interactions with the wizarding world as much as possible.

Lily doesn’t judge Mary or blame her. But Lily didn’t have anything tethering her to the muggle world anymore. Petunia wanted nothing to do with her. Her parents and the rest of their family were all gone. And when she thinks of her life ten and twenty years from now, it’s always filled with the same wonder she felt when she first discovered the expansiveness and sheer possibility of magic. She thinks of children from non-magical families that need a safe space to learn and grow. She thinks of how the magic running through her veins is as much a part of her as the eyes she inherited from her father or the hair she inherited from her mother. And if that meant fighting for a place here, for herself and for others, then so be it.

The next day a letter comes from Marlene saying she had a few days off from St. Mungo’s and would be in attendance. Among other things.

I’ll bring takeaway too. I don’t have faith that Lily’s cooking has gotten any better in the last four years.

“Tramp.” Lily mutters.

A letter never comes from Mary to let them know if she would attend or not, but she was the first one to stumble out of Lily’s fireplace a few days later.

“I made a last-second decision because I’ve missed you terribly.” Mary says nervously. She tucks a blonde lock of hair behind her ear and looks at the floor before looking up at Lily. “I brought the good stuff, too.” She says, gesturing to a box containing several rather large bottles of mead sitting on her hip.

Lily, who had been searching for a record to put on the player when Mary stumbled in, scrambles to her feet to take the box from Mary. She places it on the ground and immediately envelops Mary in the kind of embrace that makes it difficult to breathe. Mary quickly returns it, holding on to Lily for dear life. Lily feels her shoulders quake slightly and knows that Mary’s eyes are becoming as damp as her own. Yes, Lily had missed her friend dearly. She’d missed all of them. But knowing that Mary fought through her demons to see her? Lily isn’t taking that for granted.

“I’ve missed you.” She says when they take a step back. Lily uses her thumbs to wipe tears from Mary’s face before using the back of her hand to handle her own.

“I’ve missed you more.” Mary says through a watery laugh that Lily returns.

“Now this ‘good stuff’ you say you brought,” Lily says once they’ve gotten themselves composed again. She reaches into the box and pulls out one of the bottles. “Rosemerta’s Oak-Matured Mead, eh? Mary, you spoil us!”

“Yes, well. I wanted it to feel like we were sneaking it into Gryffindor Tower again.” Mary smiles.

“James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were terrible influences on us.” Says Lily with a smile at the memories of her sneaking through Hogwarts tunnels with James to get supplies from The Three Broomsticks for various occasions. “Why didn’t we start hanging out with them sooner?”

“Because you said James was a git.”

“Well, in my defense, he was at the time.”

Lily and Mary look at each other and break into laughter as Lily’s fireplace turns green again. Dorcas and Marlene step out in quick succession and begin screaming and scooping Lily and Mary into a loud, weepy group hug.

“Oh my God, Mary!”

“You came! I’m so happy to see you!”

“Lily, you’re really back for good?”

Once they settled and begun wiping away tears, Lily summons four glasses and plates. “Mary splurged on us birds and got us the good stuff.

“Is that so? Do I need to put out?” Dorcas asks. “Because if this stuff is as good as I remember when we were sneaking it into the tower, then I might not mind too much.” She says happily as she helps herself to the mead.

“Not necessary, Dorcas, thank you, though.” Mary laughs before looking around at the girls anxiously. “My boyfriend might not like that.”

“Well, you kept that quiet!” Lily says.

“I’ve only been here a few minutes!” Mary replies. “He’s actually the one that got the mead. I . . . I’m still not quite comfortable in public wizarding spaces. It feels too exposed. Especially with things getting worse. But Reg knows I’ve missed you guys and told me that he’d do whatever he could to help me feel comfortable enough to come.”

Marlene, who had been laying out the food she’d brought, looks up and places a hand to her heart. “Mary, that’s beautiful.” She gushes.

“Right. Tell me, Mare,” Dorcas says, scooting closer to Mary and bumping her shoulder lightly. “does he have any brothers?”

They all laugh, and Mary shakes her head. “No, Reg only has sisters.”

“Better luck next time, I guess.” Dorcas sighs.

“Well, I’m flexible, so let me know if any are single.” Marlene wiggles her eyebrows, and they all laugh again.

“Reg . . . this wouldn’t happen to be Reginald Cattermole, would it?” Lily asks as she swirls her mead around in her glass.

“That’s the one.” Mary has a soft smile and a dreamy look in her eyes. “He’s been so good to me. Incredibly patient and kind.” She looks down at her feet, a smile still resting across her face. “He encourages me not to give up on the wizarding world and goes above and beyond to make me feel safe. I couldn’t dream of a better situation.”

Lily’s heart feels lighter than it has in months as she listens to Mary explain how she and Reginald had randomly run into each other on one of Mary’s rare wizarding excursions. It’s beautiful to know that people are still finding and experiencing love, even when it seems like the world is burning. She wishes that she felt like this was feasible for her.

Honestly, had she not been distracted, she might have seen what was coming next.

“So, Lily.” Marlene begins with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “You and Potter finally making the beast with two backs, or are you still both pretending that you don’t want to?”

“Marlene.” Mary scolds as Dorcas laughs.

“I was wondering who was going to ask.” Dorcas grins, leaning in closer to get the details. Lily rolls her eyes.

“James and I are, again, just friends.” Says Lily as she throws a few chips at Marlene. “And besides, he has a girlfriend.”

“Ah.” The other three girls say in unison before dissolving into giggles. Lily is frustrated to find that she can’t prevent herself from joining them.

“Why don’t I have better friends?”

Dorcas gestures around the room. “Because we’re the best there is, love.”

“Ta.” Marlene says, raising a glass in salute before taking a large swallow and pouring herself another.

“Now look, on a serious note. We don’t have to do this.” Dorcas says more kindly. “But Lily, why on earth didn’t you two get together in the first place? We all thought it was just a matter of time. The boys too.”

Marlene and Mary’s eyes wander from Dorcas to Lily, waiting to see what kind of answer they’ll get. Whether it’s because Lily is happy to see them, dying to talk to someone, or pleasantly tipsy, she doesn’t know, but she surprises herself and decides to tell them the truth.

Read the rest at ao3

#Lily and James #Jily fic #Jily #Jily Fanfiction #harry potter #fanfiction #Lily just has a lot of feelings #Lily finally snaps on Miranda #first wizarding war

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gretavanfleetposts · 3 years

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Hello, can I get a ship? I just wanted to say off the bat that I use he/him pronouns and for the most part identify as a guy, so idk if that changes weather or not I'm elegable for this, but ig I'll shoot my shot anyways. I'm 5'1, a cancer, I love folk music, my favorite color is green especially a good sage green or dark royal green, I love shows like what we do in the shadows, criminal minds and american horror story, my favorite song atm is Sugar in a Bowl by Of Monsters and Men or Rich Girl by Hall & Oats but it changes a lot, I also really love King And Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men, I love DND and fantasy and writing for stuff like that, I also like auto drama podcasts like The Penumbra Podcast and The Two Princes, I also like a good dnd podcast here and there like The Adventure Zone, I can play the ukulele, my friends are my favorite thing in the whole world, I'm ok the chubbier side and have a fashion since that's kinda folky bit changes between masculine and feminine a lot, I had add and have been wondering if Ihave autism as well, idk what else to put so yeah I hope that's enough, thank you! 💖

Of course you can!! Absolutely all are welcome on this blog! Thank you so much for submitting!

❤: you sound like such a fun person! What We Do In The Shadows is one of the funniest shows i've seen, and i dont know anyone else who watches it so lets be friends? You seem like you have such a great imagination and creative soul! The fact that you cherish your friends so much is so so sweet, i feel like you are the kind of person that makes people feel special and loved, and we need more people like you in the world!

Ship: Josh 💎

Because: i can just see that he would match your love for fantasy and imagination! Like how cute would it be to start a new DND campaign with him! He'd definitely be the one to get really excited and jump around when you kill a powerful monster! I think he would really appreciate your taste in music, and would love your fashion sense because i could see that you two would compliment each others style so well because he also dresses kinda folky! I can just imagine you playing the ukulele and him looking at you dotingly at how adorable his person is then he'll end up singing along with his head in your lap while you're strumming the notes of all the songs you know! In short, he's obsessed with you

Scenario:

You're lying on the couch, watching Criminal Minds

it's at the juicy bit where they finally uncover the perpetrator

when Josh comes bouncing in through the front door, completely distracting you from the reveal you've been waiting a whole half hour for

"Guess what i saw that made me think of you" he'd say as he walks in front of the TV

he pulls out a beautiful black wide brimmed hat with feathers on the side tied tight with a leather band from a paper shopping bag

you stand up and take the hat from him, trying it on in the mirror

he stands beside you with his finger nail between his teeth

he really wants you to like it. he saw it in a shop window and knew that you needed to have it, it was yours before he even bought it

you did love it, it sat perfectly and framed your face like artwork

you had mentioned a few weeks before that the one you always wear was getting old and torn, and you were so touched that he remembered all these days later

you grabbed his hand that was still hovering around his mouth and tell him how much you love it

his eyes beam with happiness and a big smile spreads across his face.

he cups your cheeks and brings you in for a kiss

"oh i almost forgot!"

he goes back to the bag that he left on the floor and pulls out a duplicate of the hat he bought you

"i bought myself one too, so we can be matching"

you immediately blush.

he's so adorable

you finish your day with a few more episodes of Criminal Minds with Josh beside you critiquing the film work

you laugh to yourself

you wouldn't want it any other way

Thank you for all the support! I hope you liked it!

-🌙

get shipped here!

#gvf ships #ships #greta van fleet ships #gretavanfleetpostsships #anon ships #anon

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hazelandglasz · 3 years

Text

Tin-Tanium, A Klaine Advent Calendar

Hi! Yeah, I decided to write all of the Klaine Advent prompts in one story going back the steps of a ten-year anniversary.

Merry Christmas, happy holidays everybody, and I hope you’ll enjoy this compilation!!

Abashed

Over ten years, there are many opportunities for a couple to embarrass themselves.

Kurt has plenty of memories that fit in that category, Blaine too.

Blaine and Kurt together, too.

Whether it’s from their early days (Kurt still can’t believe he used an entire notebook sketching their hyphenated names around hearts) or from the most recent years (Blaine prefers to hide his face in his hands rather than face the recollection of “Glitter Vampire”, no matter how many times Eliott tells him that it’s still a fan favorite), they have managed to feel abashed more often than not.

It’s not like they mind, though.

Being abashed only lasts a moment--the memory, the joy of it, that lasts forever.

Brake

Slow and steady wins the race, doesn’t it.

So, sometimes, even though neither of them wants to slow down, one of them has to pull the brakes.

Oh, it’s not always when they are tearing each other’s clothes apart, get your mind out of the gutter.

(... they do have to slow down their loving romps sometimes, but it’s rarely because they want to and more because of coitus interruptus.)

They learned how to brake to keep their paths aligned; slowing down in their own rush to get all they want out of life in order to get there together.

And winning the race of life together is the only win Kurt and Blaine are interested in.

Careless

Kurt listened attentively, when his father told him to always be careful about his husband’s needs.

Blaine listened too, when Burt told him that though Kurt doesn’t always say it aloud, he has a way of communicating his emotions that Blaine has to “listen” for.

They do care for each other, throughout the years.

But.

But as careful as they are, or try to be, they can also behave in a careless way.

Though they always try their best, neither Kurt nor Blaine can avoid letting their worst lashing out.

Eventually, though, they learn the real lesson behind Burt’s words:

It’s not about never hurting each other--it’s about being able to heal from that hurt together, to talk about it and grow from it, together.

Dispensable

Every Spring, Blaine has the same problem.

Well it’s a problem for Kurt, anyway.

The moment the weather turns for the slightly better, Blaine turns himself into a white tornado, cleaning the apartment from floor to ceiling.

And, without fail, he always tries to hunt for the Dispensables.

“Why, pray tell, is this pile entirely composed of things from *my* side of the closet?”

“Because *you* have almost everything in duplicates.”

“They are collectors! If I ever use them or damage them, I will have a replacement.”

“They are taking too much room!”

“Not as much as your collection of cameras!”

“How dare you.”

Blaine pauses, holding a scarf in one hand and an empty cardbox in the other, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Maybe I overdid my impression of Marie Kondo.”

“And maybe I do have a hoarding problem.”

“Maybe we could do that sorting together.”

“Maybe we could find something else to do with all that free time.”

Blaine drops the box on the floor and carefully folds the scarf on the back of the couch.

“I like the way you think.”

“You even put a ring on it.”

Event

One lesson the Hummel-Anderson household always applies: make an event out of every possible situation.

During the first years, it does make sense. They celebrate their successes, their achievements, as one does.

Then, it grows into something almost like a private joke between them: every little source of happiness becomes the reason for a party, a true event, even if it’s just opening a bottle of champagne while they sit on the floor, munching on a bag of chips, just because there is a Golden Girls marathon.

Because when you find things to celebrate with the person you love most, the sad things are just a little bit less sad.

Farm

Blaine wakes up in a jolt, something pulling at his unconscious mind to pull him from his dream.

Maybe it’s the cold spot in the bed next to him, or maybe it’s the grumbling sound coming from the living room.

“Kurt?”

“...”

“Kurt what are you doing?”

“Nothing?”

Blaine comes closer, and Kurt is sitting on the couch with his laptop on his bare knees.

“Are you watching porn? ‘Cause you know you wouldn’t have to hide it from me.”

“Not porn.”

“Okay?”

Kurt closes his eyes before looking away, turning the laptop’s screen toward Blaine. “Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I--oh.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.”

“Farming Simulator 2010, that’s …”

“I know.

“... vintage, is what I was going to say. Any particular reason you needed to play that game at 2.14 AM?”

Kurt sighs, leaning his head into Blaine’s torso, now that Blaine stands closer. “It relaxes me.”

“Okay.”

“And I have been very tense.”

“Don’t need to tell me.”

“I know; so I wanted to unwind on my own to be a better husband.”

Blaine bends over to press a kiss to the top of Kurt’s head. “Farm away, darling.”

Grey

TW: anxiety

Most of the time, with the help of his therapist and different techniques he has developed over the years, Blaine can keep his anxiety at bay.

But some mornings, it’s not as easy.

Some mornings, the anxious little voice telling him he’s not worth the space he occupies is the loudest in his mind the moment he wakes up.

Some mornings, the sighting of grey skies without even a spot of blue can send him into a downward spiral he can’t seem to shake out of.

But with each passing year, Kurt becomes more attuned to the little physical signs Blaine’s anxiety lets out.

The tension in his shoulders, even as he wakes up, to which Kurt responds by closing his arms around Blaine’s upper body, forcing him to breathe with him until the tension melts away.

The way Blaine doesn’t say a word and doesn’t look directly at Kurt, to which Kurt responds by putting a cup of coffee in front of him and by kissing his temple.

Yes, Blaine’s anxiety is always around.

But with Kurt’s help, Blaine can keep it at bay.

History

Though they share a love for musicals, Kurt and Blaine don’t always have their obsessions in sync.

Unfortunately, it sometimes clashes.

Fortunately, the married couple has found a solution to keep from fighting over songs.

Medleys meet the Exquisite Corpse.

“I don't wanna talk

About things we've gone through

Though it's hurting me

Now it's history”, Blaine sings.

“History has its eyes on youuuu,” Kurt responds.

“You can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

See that girl

Watch that scene

Dig in the dancing queeeeeeen.”

“Hey not fair, there is no queen in Hamilton!”

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps insisting that Eliza is Queen!”

“True.”

Inconclusive

Around the seventh year mark, they wonder if they should … well, expand their couple’s horizon.

It’s a secret to none of their friends that the Anderson-Hummel have insane chemistry with one Starchild.

One evening, using the pretext of celebrating the comeback of the cronut on the foodie scene with one too many bottle of champagne, the three of them end up in bed together.

Some lubricant, condoms, giggles and panted names later, Kurt looks over the stunned figure of their friend to brush his fingers through Blaine’s sweaty curls.

“So?”

“Inconclusive.” Blaine sighs. “Yet.”

Eliot snorts between them. “Round number …?”

“Who’s counting?”

Join

A good way to keep the spark in its first meet glow is also to surprise each other.

One evening, Blaine comes home to Christmas lights suspended in the whole apartment.

“What the …”

“Welcome, sir,” Kurt says, wearing the Ringmaster’s outfit from his run as Barnum in Broadway’s Greatest Showman. “Would you join me for a very special evening?”

“I would,” Blaine says, smiling as he puts his hand in Kurt’s, and feeling his cheeks burning when Kurt brushes his lips against Blaine’s knuckles.

The evening is very special, Blaine tied to the armchair while Kurt takes off his whole outfit and feeds him bits of cheese and fruits and toasted bread.

Knit

“I’m bored.”

“I know. Why don’t you learn a craft?”

“Remember the last time I tried to learn a craft, like you put it?”

They both turn to the potter’s wheel they recycled into a coffee table. “Right. Maybe something less …”

“Space consuming?”

“Complicated.”

“What about knitting?”

“There’s an idea.”

Two days later

“Wha--”

“What?”

“Mon chéri, when we said knitting, I thought it would involve a couple of yarn balls and some needles.”

“This is yarn.”

“No, it’s not.”

Yes it is.

Learn

In a couple, some things come naturally, as easy as breathing.

Loving each other, for example.

For Kurt and Blaine, it’s knowing that whatever the storm, the tide will always bring them back together.

And some things are learned, through time and Life lessons.

What to cook as comfort food, for example.

For Kurt and Blaine, it’s finding out that they needed to be apart to be better for each other.

Some lessons are hard-learned, but eventually, they feel like they have always been known.

Meet

Dan is ready to slip under the table to take his ritual Christmas nap when Cecilia asks the question.

“How did you two meet?”

Now, all Dan can do is groan. “Nooo,” he moans, “why did you ask that?”

“Excuse you,” Kurt says, ruffling his son’s hair. “Don’t you like the way we met?”

“I heard that story at least 221 times,” he says, dropping his head to the table. “Besides, it’s just weird, when you think about it.”

Cecilia cocks one eyebrow at him. “Now you have to tell me.”

“Let me--”

Dan holds up his hand to stop his father in his tracks. “Nah, nah, nah, let me, because they will tell you that it’s so romantic, but in reality, Dad went to spy on Papa and Papa lied to Dad about a shortcut …”

Nip

“What is that thing sitting in that... thing?”

“That is a cat and she is sitting in a basket I knitted, thank you very much.”

“Since when do we have a cat?”

“Since Mrs Gimm’s had a litter and this one picked me.”

“Ah.”

“She went for me like she always knew me.”

“Aww.”

“And then she nipped my fingers.”

“That explains the band-aids.”

“Maybe.”

“So you decided to bring a feral cat into our house with a newborn because the only thing you knitted is that basket?”

“Feral, come on, maybe that’s an overkill, look how sweet she--Ouch!”

“Here, another kitten band-aid. Let me try.”

“Oh right, you’re a big beast tamer, right?”

“...”

“Is that her purring?”

“Either she’s purring or the neighbor just started a plane engine.”

“Oh yes, you’re purring, you little princess you …”

“Ahem.”

Opinion

Any couple counsellor will tell you this:

If you want a relationship to last, the most important thing to do is compromise, to make sure that both parties are happy.

Any couple will tell you this:

Some opinions are better than others. The only thing you can do, before choosing a hill to die on, is take a step back, breathe in and out a couple of times and--

“That’s so stupid it’s a wonder you can still breathe and talk at the same time!”

“I can’t believe you actually think that! What’s between your ears, lukewarm water?”

--start World War Three over the importance of the Beatles versus the Rolling Stones, I guess.

Possible

More seriously though, finding a middle ground is important, in any relationship. And the way to that middle ground can sometimes be summarized in one word.

“Possibility.”

Do you think you could agree to let me cook tonight, even though you say I burn everything?

Maybe.

May I buy regular milk instead of almond, because it gives me stomach aches?

You may.

Isn’t it your turn to change Kitty’s litter?

...Possible.

In just a few words, you can save your relationship from self-destructing, isn’t that something?

Remarkable

Over the years, through thick and thin, through storms and easy flows, the relationship formed by Kurt and Blaine only strengthens.

A fact that seems remarkable for a lot of their friends.

Their New York friends, I should say, since their Ohioan friends are not surprised to see them growing only stronger and more in love as time passes by, leaving them more united than they ever were when they were younger.

Is their relationship remarkable? Of course.

But not because they still look at each other with sparkles in their eyes, especially when they think nobody is watching.

No, it’s spectacular because it reminds everyone lucky enough to be with them that Love does exist.

Sisters

Over the years, Kurt and Blaine consider that they are the ones lucky enough to have been graced by the many women who entered their lives and remained there as chosen sisters.

Mercedes, Tina, Santana, even Rachel, of course, soul sisters who were meant to support them and challenge them to become better men.

Marley, Unique, Kitty, Jane--younger sisters who help both men to grow into mentors and future parents for Cecilia.

Lissa, Annie, Agnes--sisters of all ages who learn from them and teach them in return what they learned during their own lives until they met the couple.

Glee Club had taught them that family didn’t have to be born from blood, but life brought them a constellation of sisterhood that surrounds them and protects them, in a way, from themselves, from ever thinking they cannot get better.

Tub

“Blaine, I know that you’re really going Method for that role, but could you stop with the 1980, 1990 lingo?”

“As if!”

Kurt sighs before deciding to move on. “Do you like that ice cream? It’s from the new shop down the block.”

“It’s da bomb, hubby.”

“‘Da bomb’, really?”

Blaine has the decency to look slightly bashful. “Overdoing it?”

“Just a tad.”

“I’ll keep it to the theater, then.”

“Tubular.”

Ugly

When one uses his body as its professional tool, one is very peculiar about the way they see themselves.

And sometimes, as strong-minded the individual may be, societal expectations can become too heavy.

“Now I get it. I don’t get parts because I’m ugly.”

“Who said that?”

Kurt slams the bathroom cupboard closed, shaking his head at his own reflection. “I don’t need anyone to say it,” he seethes, “it’s obviously why none of the directors I auditioned for ever called back!”

Blaine comes to lean against the bathroom’s door frame. “Kurt …”

Kurt bends his head. “Blaine, don’t start. I know, deep down, that it’s not the reason, and that I’m not ugly. But right now,” he adds, turning his head toward Blaine without meeting his gaze, “that knowledge is buried deep, deep down.”

“Okay.” Blaine stretches close to Kurt, pecking his cheek. “Take all the time you want. But if you need my help digging for proof that you are quite the opposite of ugly, I’m right here. If you want to mull over it in silence, I can let you do it, and just stay here by your side, or walk around the block.”

“No. Stay.” Kurt finally looks up, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s. “I don’t feel so bad when you’re around.”

Vanish

Sometimes, when you are a couple of married actors, you have to accept that your husband is going to get a job when you don’t.

“I got the job!”

“See, I knew you were going to get a break! Which job?”

“The ad one!”

Blaine cocks his head to the side. “Which one? The one for the hotels?”

“No, the one for the detergent. You know, the pink one?”

“Vanish?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Kurt chuckles. “I should try and remember it before the shoot!”

“I’m very proud of you,” Blaine says, pulling Kurt against him for a kiss. “Want to rehearse your text?”

“I would, if you weren’t unbuckling my be-hey!”

“Look, I can make your pants just … vanish.”

“You’re terrib--oh, wow.”

Worthless

Along the years, along the moves, along the different steps in Life, people gather things.

Not necessarily the most expensive things in the world, just mementos.

Little things, really, that most people would discard as just worthless junk.

But for Blaine, for Kurt, those little things are more precious than any of the things they bought once they started to get financially comfortable.

Like ticket stubs and Playbills from the shows they saw together.

Or like a ring made out of gum wrappers.

Yard

Speaking of financial comfort.

Once they became a household name, and once their student loans were reimbursed, both Blaine and Kurt agree.

If they are to be a family, if they are to raise a kid (or many), they need to buy a house.

It takes them a while, but they manage to save enough money to put the down payment on a cute little house in Jericho, a house with a luxurious yard where Kitty Cat can pretend to be the tiger she once was, and where their babies will be free to climb the trees and run around and drive their little bicycles or whatever.

“Quite the white picket fence, Hummel.”

“Anderson Hummel, and yes, so what.”

Santana rubs her very round belly. “Not complaining, nor criticizing. Just observing. I didn’t picture you as Wisteria Lane-adjacent.”

Kurt shrugs. “Nothing Desperate about wanting a good environment to raise a family.”

Zealous

As they reach their tenth year anniversary, Kurt and Blaine feel like they have reached a point in their relationship where their ship is sailing on its own, so to speak.

They have found their groove, they can still surprise each other while knowing each other’s habits and needs, and they have their baby.

Who cries every night.

Blaine is at his wits end looking for a solution to soothe his son’s teething pain, but nothing works.

Or so it seems.

“This here's a tale for all the fellas

Tryin' to do what those ladies tell us

Get shot down 'cause you're over zealous

Play hard to get, females get jealous …”

The sound of the song is the only sound around the house.

No cries, no whimpers.

Just Kurt, apparently “bursting a move”.

“Kurt?”

The song stops, along with one of Dan’s hiccups that announce a storm.

“Keep going, keep going!”

Kurt hesitantly returns to the song, coming into view as he bounces Dan in his arms.

“Young MC, really?”

In the same melody, Kurt replies between his teeth. “I don’t know what came over me, but I just started singing while he was crying and he sto-opped.”

“Magic.”

“Quite.”

“We need to give our thanks to Shuester, uh?”

“Over my dead body.”

#sometimes i write #klaine advent #todaydreambelievers #klaine

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ziracona · 3 years

Note

i was just wondering what your favourite tropes and dynamics are to explore in fic? either to write yourself or to read!

Oooh, that’s a hard one to answer because I like so many! Uhhh...Let me think.

Well, one of my favorite tropes is definitely Found Family. What is really more satisfying and worthwhile than a group of damaged people coming together and slowly building trust and love until they are inseparably bonded and full of love and have found things they never thought they would?

I am extremely weak to memory loss both because I have some myself, and the American Dragon Jake Long episode Homecoming ripped out my heart as a kid and left me suffering, then Code Geass stepped on it twice with Shirley the same way. So I really like memory loss centered tragedy tropes bc I am 3x weak to them. I am also weak to that trope where one person is trapped in a room with a bomb, or going to drown, or for whatever reason cannot be saved from dying, so a loved one goes and stays and dies with them too just so they don’t have to die alone. Frkn /shatters/ my heart.

I love hurt comfort a lot. I think my favorite scenes to write and read are often one person is completely at the mercy of person 2, who they have no reason to think will help them and are terrified of being hurt by, but instead of person 2 doing anything bad at all, they are kind and look after them and save them. I die for that. It is the lifeblood of my soul.

I also like big character arcs and well done redemption arcs (bad ones make me rage tho. If I was a card in a tarot deck, I’d be Justice). Personal growth, finding hope again, learning to trust or love yourself. I really like character studies, and I like in-depth looks at serious issues and complex and messed up situations. I also am a big fan of deeply important and lasting platonic relationships, be it familial or best friends or whatever, and like romances where the two in question (or more if poly) just try really hard to be good to each other and communicate well and are full of love and would die for each other.

Love pets being a big element of story. Love language barriers, and like writing them/communication barriers. I am usually not very interested in stories (writing or reading) that don’t have good rep in a number of ways. Like writing disabled characters well because I see them get written very grossly so much (I like writing tons of groups this is just the one I did most recently, so it’s on my mind rn. I am disabled, but I’m also a lot of other things to & def don’t only focus on/be interested by my own stuff). I am kinda branching out from tropes to just elements now tho. Uhhhhh, tropes, tropes. I love the opposite of that stupid “If you kill an evil person you’re just as bad”--I am here to see people end the people who murdered their friends or abused them. It’s what they deserve. Not here for a woobie redemption arc for an abuser. Very tired of those & angy.

I love humor in the midst of intense drama or horror or sadness. I’m big into massive sacrifices, but especially if it’s something other than death bc those tend to be more well thought out.

I adore characters who have been through awful things and suffered and been abused getting to actually heal and live happy lives instead of just dying the second they start to taste happiness. I love themes and tropes about the value and lasting nature of human connection and how important and lasting it is.

(putting the rest under a cut bc I am having fun but this be getting long)

Uhhh, I am obsessed with free will > fate and choice, and I really like humanity and things about what it means to be human, and ethics, but like, in an interesting way? Like, Terry Pratchett’s stuff really appeals to me. Like “What have I always believed? That on the whole, and by and large, if a man lived properly, not according to what any priests said, but according to what seemed decent and honest inside, then it would, at the end, more or less, turn out all right.” “Just because you can explain it doesn't mean it's not still a miracle.” “The figures looked more or less human. And they were engaged in religion. You could tell by the knives (it's not murder if you do it for a god).” “There are hardly any excesses of the most crazed psychopath that cannot easily be duplicated by a normal kindly family man who just comes in to work every day and has a job to do.” “There’s no point in believing in things that exist.” “You couldn’t put off the inevitable. Because sooner or later, you reached the place when the inevitable just went and waited.” and

“Yeah? How many worshipers have you got?” “Fifty-one!” The newt looked at him hopefully, and added, “Is that lots? Can't count.” It pointed at a rather crudely molded figure on the beach in Omnia and said, “But got a stake!” Om looked at the figure of the little fisherman. “When he dies, you'll have fifty worshippers,” he said. “That more or less than fifty-one?” “A lot less.” “Definite?” “Yes.” “No one tell me that.” There were several dozen gods watching the beach. Om vaguely remembered the Ephebian statues. There was the goddess with the badly carved owl. Yes. Om rubbed his head. This wasn't god-like thinking. It seemed simpler when you were up here. It was all a game. You forgot that it wasn't a game down there. People died. Bits got chopped off. We're like eagles up here, he thought. Sometimes we show a tortoise how to fly. Then we let go. He said, to the occult world in general, “There's people going to die down there.” A Tsortean God of the Sun did not even bother to look round. “That's what they're for,” he said. In his hand he was holding a dice box that looked very much like a human skull with rubies in the eye-sockets. “Ah, yes,” said Om. “I forgot that, for a moment.” He looked at the skull, and then turned to the little Goddess of Plenty. “What's this, love? A cornucopia? Can I have a look? Thanks.” Om emptied some of the fruit out. Then he nudged the Newt God. “If I was you, friend, I'd find something long and hefty,” he said. “Is one less than fifty-one?” said P'Tang-P'Tang. “It's the same,” said Om, firmly. He eyed the back of the Tsortean God's head. “But you have thousands,” said the Newt God. “You fight for thousands.” Om rubbed his forehead. I spent too long down there, he thought. I can't stop thinking at ground level. “I think,” he said, “I think, if you want thousands, you have to fight for one.” He tapped the Solar God on the shoulder. “Hey, sunshine?” When the God looked around, Om broke the cornucopia over his head.

Are all just from Small Gods, and like, boy is that my kinda good shit. Love history and sociology and anthropology.

I love people fighting to do something they know is doomed to fail just because they know it’s the right thing. I also die for characters who are loyal undyingly, and characters admitting they were wrong and trying to do better, and that trope where someone says something but the exact opposite is happening in the background or happens immediately after. Love that trope where someone should be dead but they just. keep. getting. back. up. to defend someone they love. Love the trope where character A dies and character B takes something of theirs like a bracelet or a necklace or a headband or something and wears it forever after. : (((

I know there’s a ton more but ima swap to dynamics.

Let’s see. I adore familial relationships so much? Blood family, adopted, doesn’t matter, it’s exactly the same. I am huge on one character becoming team mom or dad or parent, or adopting some of the others. I love parent-kid relationships, even with adults and older adults, because it’s just as important. I adore small children being cared for by gruff war-hardened people, or selfish dicks who have to be better for the kid, or kind people who always wanted a kid and lost their own or never had one, or who are happy to add one more, or big sisters Clemtine style stepping into parenthood. Live for that, and I seek out video games that let me play it. Very excited to be trying out Plague’s Tale Innocence, because you play as a big sis taking care of your little brother (he’s like 6? 5-8? I’m not sure). But it’s such a neat idea for a sibling dynamic to explore, because while they’re siblings and know each other’s name and have like, a familial bond, it’s also all kind of awkward and new, because he’s been sick for years and in quarantine with just their mom, so even though they’re siblings and love each other and like, baby brother trusts you, they don’t really know each other at all, and that is just fascinating and so cool to explore to me! I also love someone adopting someone else as their new sibling(s) and dragging them into the family. I love siblings where one starts to go evil or mess up, and the other sibling fights with everything they have to save them/bring them back/help them become good again, because it breaks my heart and sibling relationships are /so/ important to me.

I also love shit like Jeff in dbd, where one character adopts younger characters who just /super/ don’t deserve it, because as much as they’ve fucked up, they love them anyway, they just do, and they want to be there to give them support and a chance to keep trying if they’ll take it. And like, I love all of Legion’s relationships with him, but especially Joey, because it’s /so/ sweet, and Joey is just a scared kid hurting and alone and he wants /so bad/ just to be loved and thought well of and okay, but he’s terrified of getting hurt or killed, and confused, and guilty and afraid of what will happen because of all the bad shit he did, and Jeff is just so warm and forgiving and full of nothing but unconditional love and kindness, and in the sincerest of ways, and they’re such good friends, which is like, not optional to a good parent-child relationship. Or way older brother filling in for parent-kid, there’s a lot of overlap. Anyway! Also just cute shit where someone falls in love with the idea of getting to look out for and stay close to someone younger they want to protect and parent, and there’s this kind of hopeful and almost fragile unsureness that the other person will want or need them in that capacity, like Ace adopting Nea, and not just picking looking out for someone who needs it over former life of thrill, but like, never regretting that choice, and just being truly happy and fulfilled in the adventure they now are on.

For friendships, god. I like so much shit, I don’t know what to say. I am so sorry I am giving you a novel for an answer to this short ask, rip. But I just love all kinds! I like groups with an established rhetoric between them, who are just so comfortable in each others’ presence, and people you know love and value each other so much they’re going to be together forever just as much as the two other characters getting married. I love one is a nice person, and the other is an asshole, but they make an amazing team and balance each other out, and the asshole stops the kind one from dying doing shit for other people, and the kind one helps the asshole be just a little more in love with their friends and things other than themself, and they’re great together. I love idiot friends who riff off each other and do bits all the time, and ones who turn into the “Holy shit there’s two of them” whenever they hang out, and ones who are just so on the same wavelength they’re totally comfortable in silence together and seek it out and would die for the other. I like wingman to person who is dying of embarrassment dynamic, and hardcore fighty person protecting either small and easily hurt person, or just as great, protecting dedicatedly person who is ironically either just as tough as them or even more, but it’s still really sweet and kind of double soft and sweet because tough friend never gets cared for.

God, what don’t I like? ...People being toxic assholes together?

I like super opposites that mesh well, but look hilarious next to each other, and goofy best friends who shamelessly sing loud to the most embarrassing karaoke track they could find. Lesbian and himbo is pretty great. As is the opposite, gay dude and stupid amazing slut or bimbo. (Fkn Mateo and Cheyanne kill me). Sweetest person you will ever know surrounded by 20 people who would die for them. Person who thinks they’re unlovable and takes a long time to notice like all their friends already love them, and then they get to be happy. Person who has never once had a good relationship is dragged into a healthy friendship and /super/ suspicious at every turn because they just aren’t used to being loved and treated well, but eventually softens and probably straight up breaks down at some point.

Person who was formerly bad or did something super fucked up is forgiven and welcomed into a group which they can barely even understand, and they are full of guilt but their loved ones reassure them and help them heal and just accept them and support them. Friends who are super mean to other friend but like, in a loving way, and would also take a bullet for the friend.

Uhhh, for romances, my fave is characters who just fucking love each other. I am real tired of relationship drama. Like pining and issues and star crossed lovers are all great (I think of those, star-crossed lovers is my fave), but I mean like, the shit where people keep having misunderstandings or not talking or cheating on each other just so there can be drama--that I am sick of. I love it when person A does something super badass and probably a little unexpected and person B is like “That’s my wife!!!” or just goes : O with love in their eyes, and this happens constantly. I love gushy mushy sweet displays of affection. I love relationships where the people who are dating were best friends first and still are after, all the way, and tease and rib and are so in love.

I like it when one person thinks they don’t deserve the other, but clearly their partner feels none of this and is always just like “Babe...” and hugs them and is just as in love, and helps them begin to love themself more.

Uhhhh, I like it when there’s someone who doesn’t think they’re in love and there’s that trope where they suddenly get it and you get the Oh or the Wait in italics as it drops internally. I like ships where the characters balance each other out well or provide good support and get better together than they were apart, triple points if they’re super aware of that and comment on it. Also whatever the fuck Maureen Robinson and John Robinson in the Lost in Space reboot have going on. That’s like, goals. She’s chaotic evil living lawful good by sheer force of will, and he’s a himbo too in love to realize any of that and never questions what she thinks they should do beyond the physical logistics of it and would die for her and not think twice about it or the fact that she moves really fast to the pragmatic “Okay,”--not because she doesn’t love him, she does--but because someone does need to be alive for their kids and she’s just wired too practical for him to have to pry her off sobbing to not stay and die with him. (This happens verbatim in like episode 6, but it’s not a mega spoiler bc he doesn’t actually die--he just almost does. She figures out a way to save them both right before committing to it.)

I also like “two fools both in love but really nervous about asking the other if they are because of their past, or situation, or because this is the first time or first time with that kind of relationship, so there’s just intense romantic tension all the time where they pause mid-sentence to just stare into eachothers’ eyes and forget what they were saying, but they’re both too ineffective to just fucking go “Do you like me?” for such a long time. Hurt/comfort paired with pining. Uhhh, but Star Crossed Lovers is up there for sure. I love the pain of two people wanting to be together but it’s just /impossible/ and they know it but that doesn’t make the feelings go away, and it’s miserable, and maybe they’re upset, because they shouldn’t feel this way, but they can’t not, and it’s confused, and it hurts, but they’re also so /happy/ when they see each other. I like that good shit in any romance where the characters can just look at each other and they know, and you know. That’s the choice shit, I tell you that.

Jeeze I’m sure I missed stuff but this is already so long. Uhhh, I like so much I don’t really know how to answer. But my favorite like, vibe/....flavor genre? Is Hope Punk. Uhhh, and mostly I dig any relationships that end up healthy and sweet. I really like second-chances, and characters confronting and moving on past their bad or complicated pasts, or trauma, and healing. Hurt comfort is love, and so is angst with a happy ending. I like a good villain or a wonderful asshole, but I feel like characters that are just good and doing their best really get overlooked and undervalued a lot, and I am here for them. Like Sam Gamgee? One of the /best/ characters in LOTR. So is Bob Newby--and I do get the irony in them both being played by Sean Astin. But uh, anyway, I really like to explore how decent people try to act when confronted with terrible situations and choices, because I really value people who stayed sweet and kind and merciful and full of love even after all the awful shit life has put them through, and I really like writing about how /hard/ that is, and what it looks like, along with the other stuff. I also like characters who are very flawed and very medium being given something to lose and something to gain that go in opposite directions, and being forced to confront their reality and make hard choices. I like people being given intense opportunities to grow or to rot, and seeing which they’ll chose and why and if they’ll make it to the end. Mostly I just really love characters who try, even if they fail, because that can be a lot harder to do than it seems. I like dynamics where one character is very flawed, or in a bad place, but they love someone they think is amazing, and so they’re working hard to catch up to them, or to get close enough they can reach out and hold their hand, and are fighting to make it to a person themselves who can do that someday. I’m sure I forgot a lot and that this was super rambly, but I hope you at least enjoyed some of it! Thanks for asking! ^u^

#ask #anonymous #personal #writing #Anonymous

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chibi-honey-cake · 4 years

Note

Top 10 favorite preds?

OH, SO YOU HAVE CHOSEN BEARS. Perhaps you didn't know what you were asking, but I am holding back more love for the bears from the Fi.ve Ni.ghts at Fre.ddy's series than is necessarily healthy, I'm sure. So it’s all bears on this list. Please note that these are my interpretations of the characters.

Get ready for Freddy some fancy singer bears because this girl is all about them sharp-dressed preds! [Stick around 'til the end for honorable mentions, a.k.a. If Chibi Wasn't Completely Teddy-Beared] Also beneath the cut because this got STUPID LONG.

10. Nightmare Freddy The only canonical parent. *snicker* I put him this low because despite being what I would call a demon, he's kinda vanilla in my head. He has sharp teeth, claws, a great intimidating aura and sure, he can make you fear for your safety... But in the end, he's careful with those pointy things. (Side note: In most of my writing the Nightmares feed off of fear, which leads to a lot of teasing fearplay with no real harm.)

9. Classic Freddy/Withered Freddy (Hey, they're the same character, shut up) He was my original crush of the series and I'm always going to love the main bear singer. Half of the time I portray him as a soft, charming pred that gently coaxes prey into being eaten and the other half he's a huGE TEASE, grinning and cooing to prey about how filling they'll be squirming in his gut all nice and snug- AAAA! He has the 'suave smile' down pat, I don't know how he does it!

8. Nightmare Fredbear Okay, look. He's intimidating, huge, wide, has sharp teeth, a belly maw, and claws. He is literally made to tower over you and make you question reality, a demon sent to torment... Really, he's a smug, teasing monster that relishes in your nervous stammering and fearful trembling. He wouldn't really harm someone, he's more interested in the fear they exude though. He also borrows some teleport powers from both being a Nightmare and a copy of Golden Freddy, so sometimes he'll appear behind you with that big, toothy, smug-jerk grin until your skin crawls enough to notice him... Or his belly rumbles ravenously right behind your head. And his tummy is LOUD when you're outside, let alone inside...

7. Lefty Okay, Lefty's a little hard to explain. He's calm and gentle in his daily life performing alongside the Rockstar models, sometimes even more slow and quiet. He likes to watch others more than participate, opting to stare. Sure, maybe he's just shy... Or maybe he's calculating the best place to catch you by yourself. Most of the time though, he's more concerned with the health of those around him. If he thinks you're pushing yourself too hard, he'll gently make sure you'll take a break. He'll shush prey as he holds them carefully inside, reassuring them. Often he will activate his inner music box to soothe his prey to sleep. He just wants you to take a nap- in his belly~

6. Shadow Freddy/Phantom Freddy Okay yes, two different characters, but I treat them more like brothers or duplicates of one another. They act almost the same, so I'm cheating shut up. Phantom Freddy is a ghost, obviously, and Shadow Freddy is a shadow entity, again obviously. They are both non-verbal most of the time when I write for them, opting instead to nudge and gesture (and tease like the dickens in a one-sided conversation). But they purr loud to let you know if they're enjoying themselves.Since they are both beings made of energy, that's what they need to maintain their forms. They just 'borrow' some liveliness from their prey, which leaves the prey a little drained afterward. But that's something that can be solved with a nap and some snacks~ Some friendly warnings- since they are not really physically solid, they're known for surprising prey. They love hugs, both outside- and inside. It depends on the day whether they are going to swallow prey- or just absorb them into their bodies. But it's like floating in cool air- you're okay with that, right?

5. Molten Freddy I have so many feels for my poor, unraveled boy... He's gone through a lot, stuck in a long, snaky coily body by himself, but he still has such a sweet demeanor! His mass appears so much bigger now that his endoskeleton has come undone, Molten Freddy can control all of his coils separately. He's starved for attention and if someone shows the slightest empathy to him, he latches onto them hard. He's so fond of hugs that he'll hold prey with his coils and call them sweet names until they fluster bright red. Then he'll wrap them up and swallow them slowly, purring as he works them down deeper into his metal-cable body for long, internal hugs... Bear with snake body, yeth~

4. Nightmare Okay, so Nightmare Fredbear? Just- magnify all of that. Like, 2000% magnification. Nightmare is what his name suggests: a literal embodiment of nightmares. His teasing can get rough, borderline possessive sometimes. When he feels he's going overboard in terrorizing his prey, he'll subtly ease back. But let's face it, it's easy to go overboard when you're... well, basically the King of Fearplay. He can be a pushy jerk, being the leader of the Nighmares means he calls a lot of the shots... But if you know him well enough, he'll reveal more of his true self and become easier to deal with. He'll be your huge, intimidating back-up with an army of nightmares at his command- no one will mess with you again. But when faced with his insatiable appetite, it means that you'll be dealing with his belly maw more often than his fear-inspiring appearance.

3. Fredbear/Golden Freddy/Withered Golden Freddy (Again, same character) Ah, a wonderful golden bear! He has such versatility since you see him in so many eras! As a younger bear, he was more polite and reserved. As the years wore on, he began to get more... sloppy, for lack of a better term. His politeness wore down and he became less reserved, starting to be more teasing and smug. By the time the first game started, he was a grinning, teleporting menace. He loves to spook prey by appearing behind them, then pinning them against the wall to fluster the daylights out of them with his ravenous appetite. "I've been empty for so long... Could you help me with that~?" He can get possessive over his prey occasionally, and he loves nothing more than lounging around with a squirming belly full of delicious prey.

2. Funtime Freddy The excitable boy, despite being my main F/O, number two on the list of favorite preds? *gasp* Okay so I LOVE Funtime Freddy so much, it's not funny. ...There's a pun in there somewhere. Hm. He's such a silly bear, so full of energy! He's bouncy and giggly most of the time, always ready and glad to spend time with someone! There's only one problem... He also burns a lot of energy and his tummy often reminds him to eat with sudden, sharp growling. And when your hunger is that fast and demanding... Oftentimes the best food source is his tasty prey friend literally right next to him! Hope the prey doesn't mind the sudden change of scenery! He has an issue with going too fast out of eagerness to fill his tummy, so sometimes he'll give himself a tummyache. Guess the prey better get to work soothing their big pal's tum, huh?

1. Toy Freddy That's right, my soft boy~ He's such a nervous, fretting bear that needs some soft reassurance and hugs. Good thing he's already soft and plush, ready for someone to soothe his nerves. He's extremely polite and reserved, never wanting to impose or bother others... But sometimes his tummy speaks up for him. If he's hungry, he cannot stop the starved rumbling of his empty tummy and he will be so flustered about it! Apologizing, stammering, trying to subtly rub his tum to calm it down (not knowing it's doing the opposite), he's a flushed, famished mess. Most of the time it takes a prey offering themselves up for Toy Freddy to eat them and he'll constantly ask, "Are you sure?" He goes slow to ensure prey's comfort and because he absolutely must savor their flavor, thanking them gratefully as his belly accepts its treat with loud approval. (But if the prey is oblivious and his hunger gnaws too hard for too long, he might snap and stuff the prey into his mouth. He'd apologize profusely after he'd gulped them down, ashamed at his own behaviour. Don't drive the poor soft boi to those measures...)

[Sorry, Rockstar Freddy. Your politeness, smooth compliments, and offers of 'substitute payment' weren't enough to get you on the list. I'll make it up to you later.]

Okay so, here for the honorable mentions now? Unfortunately, I haven't really branched out very far beyond these bears when it comes to noms, but here's a few I've experimented with or am thinking of experimenting with.

King Dedede (from Kir.by) - He's such a glutton, though! He's kind of bossy and definitely greedy for food, but oh well lunch isn't for another ten minutes so his servant or guest might just have to do until then! It may be sudden and lunch may end up joining you, but at least his belly is pretty spacious! He's a kind pred behind closed doors where no one can see his nice side, happily holding prey inside. And he'll definitely let you out later, just... keep squirming, your king demands it~

Globox (from Ra.yman) - A huge, plump frog-like friend! He literally eats stuff to store it repeatedly in Rayman 2 and (although I haven't played it yet) in Rayman 3, I think Globox accidentally swallows the bad guy and the whole plot is about getting them out? I wonder why there's not more content of him out there, he's positively MADE for this community, lol.

King K.Rool (from Don.key Ko.ng 64) - Okay so, lemme call myself out. Past Chibi, who didn't know what vore was at the tender age of 10, had a fascination with the villain of DK64. -And had daydreams of causing trouble with my friends the Kongs only to be captured and eaten by K.Rool as an act of punishment against the Kongs? Didn't know why I liked that thought, but I just- kept coming back to it! Now I know why! Considering how H U G E he is compared to the Kongs in that last boss fight, um... G/t vore? Haha!

Slimes (from Sli.me Ran.cher)- We knew this was coming. Considering the very nature of our ranching-of-slimy-friends game, I couldn't help but think of plenty of pred and prey scenarios. But the best pred scenario I can think of is an inexperienced rancher coming across a gordo slime (which is a ton of slimes congealed into a larger one). Of course they're a dumb-bucket and decide to poke it when their vac-pac doesn't work, which leads to them getting stuck and sucked into the sticky, slimy mess. When they get free somehow, they embarrassingly admit it to another rancher who laughs. "Oh, that happens to everyone once."

TL:DR- Chibi has EXTREME CRUSH on several dapper bears and very clearly has a pred type [taller, larger, and stronger than her].

#chatty cake #anonymous #extreme cuddling #v.ore #soft vore #safe vore #vore talk #implied fearplay #f.naf #fnaf vore #thank you for enabling me #I worked on this all day

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secret-kkh-fics · 4 years

Text

History Repeats | Chapter 1

Due to this not being posted anywhere else yet, please like and DON’T REBLOG my fics.

Chapter Summary:

Rose is horribly ill and exhausted after a bad day. She is surprised when she gets an unexpected visitor who tells her some interesting information and offers her a way to both cure her illness and get back to the Doctor.

Author Note:

Hello! Yet another one I have decided to rewrite. Never actually finished the original of this. I got to somewhere around World War III before I took a hiatus from it and came back a few years later and realised I wanted to update everything to do with it. I ended up both writing the new chapters at the same time as updating the old.

Visitor Through the Void

Dying to Go Home

Rose slowly dragged herself into her house, carelessly dumpling her things near the doorway, and flopping down onto the couch, not even bothering to take off her shoes or jacket. It had been a long, exhausting, and disappointing day. And she was in a lot of pain.

They were certain that the dimension cannon was ready to go this time. The mechanics had been checked a thousand times, and by all rights, it should work. But something was stopping it from working. It was like how after the breach had closed and the jump refused to work. This meant that she would only be able to get back home when the walls between the worlds were weak… and that wasn’t a good thing.

She wanted to go home more than anything, but if the walls weakened, it could only mean that something really bad was happening. And she had learnt the hard and heart-breaking way that not even the Doctor could stop everything.

It had been just over a year since the painful day she had been trapped in this universe. A whole year of being broken in more ways than one. She’d tried… she really had. She did it for her family’s sake, and for Mikey’s sake, and mostly for her sake. She did it for the Doctor. Because she knew that he would want her to do what she was doing. She knew that she was better than that. She wasn’t just a broke shop girl anymore. They were all worried about her, so she had tried to act like she wasn’t slowly dying.

She had gone to work at Torchwood with Mickey and Pete. It was the closest thing she could get to her old life in this world, and it was also her only chance to get back. She had made a few friends and made an effort to hang out with them and be happy. She played with her new baby brother and spent time with her mother. She had even gone back to school and worked on her A Levels. She lived the fantastic life he had asked of her.

…Or, at least, she tried to live the fantastic life he had asked her to. But it didn’t feel fantastic. Or brilliant. Or anything other than horrible. Alright at best.

She felt as if her mind and heart were slowly being ripped apart. She felt empty like she was missing something inside of her. Some crucial part that she needed to live. Yes, she felt empty and broken from the loss of her Doctor… but it was something else too.

Sometimes she felt as if she were drowning, that her oxygen was being taken away, suffocating her. It was the same feeling, like her lifeline was slowly being dragged away from her. Killing her painfully and slowly. And it was only getting worse.

She was sick. Badly sick. She’d tried to hide it from her family, but they had noticed. They had noticed the fevers and deliriums. They had seen her have the occasional hallucination or seizure. They had seen how most days she was overcome by severe migraines that were at times so crippling she wanted nothing more than to curl in a ball and scream.

But still, she went on as best she could.

She had been to the hospital for scans and tests, but they had all shown nothing wrong with her. Medically anyway. They had noted that her brain scans and DNA seemed a little odd… inhuman. But they weren’t harmful. In the end, she had chalked it up to side-effects from travelling through space and time for years.

Grief could cause sickness. People had died of grief. They had given up, and it had overcome them… Her family thought that grief was the cause. But she knew it wasn’t. She was heartbroken, but she was too determined to let it beat her. People only died of grief when they gave up, and she had far from given up. She refused to. She was not going to give up until she found a way back home. She wouldn’t give up till she was with him again.

But right now, she was so sick and so tired, the migraine that had been building all day so instead, she fell unconscious within moments of landing on the couch.

Rose was woken by singing. At first, the song played at the edge of her mind, slowly dragging her back to consciousness. It was a familiar song, an eerie, haunting tune. She’d heard it a thousand times before. She knew it like the back of her hand, and she knew she had found herself absentmindedly humming it many times. But she couldn’t place where she knew it from.

The next thing she noticed was that she was feeling much better. She was able to breathe easier. Most surprisingly, her migraine was completely gone. She couldn’t recall the last time she hadn’t had even a slight headache, but she wasn’t in pain. She wasn’t in pain at all, which was something else she couldn’t recall the last time that happened. For the first time in a very long time, she felt whole again.

Sitting up, the third thing she noticed was a golden light coming from somewhere in the room. She looked over at the source of the light in surprise. It was dark now, probably sometime past one in the morning, and there was very little light shining into her house. So, the glowing cloud of golden dust like energy swirling around in the middle of the room was massively out of place.

She jumped to her feet in alarm, looking for something to defend herself if whatever it was was dangerous. She watched warily as the golden mass swirled through the air gently a moment, before it all started to be dragged towards the centre, pulling it all in so it clumped together, then, with a final flash, it formed into the shape of a woman.

The woman was glowing slightly, and she gasped as she came into being, then immediately fell to the floor. Rose quickly hit the lights, then rushed over to help her to her feet. But she stopped dead when she saw the woman’s face… it was her.

The other her looked younger than she did now, she could only be nineteen or twenty. Sure, to be honest, she hadn’t actually changed that much at all since then, but there was something about this Rose that seemed so young.

Most alarming, though, was that this other Rose had glowing gold eyes. And on top of that, she was wearing an outfit that had been destroyed long ago.

“Oh… that’s a new feeling,” the other her said, attempting to steady herself on her feet. Then she pulled a surprised face, almost as if she was startled by the sound of her own voice. She was still very shaky on her feet and almost fell over again, so Rose put out a hand to steady her. She had to catch her right away when the other her let out a sharp gasp and doubled over. “Oh, and it hurts! That really, really hurts!” she gasped. “How do you humans tolerate this? Just wait until I get my hands on that stupid Master… Wait… hands. I have hands.”

“O-okay…” Rose said in confusion. “Sorry, what’s going on?”

This made the other Rose look up at her, and her golden glowing eyes widened in delight as if she’d only just noticed her. “Rose!” she cried happily, throwing her arms around her. “Thank Rassilon, you’re still alive! I was so worried about you! Oh, you don’t look so good. I was cutting it close, but this was the first moment that the wall between the walls weakened. Goodness, this talking thing is fun! No wonder my Thief does it so much!”

Experimentally, the other Rose began to flex her jaw and pull funny faces.

“Right… So, who are you and why do you look like me?”

“Look like you?” Again, she brought her arms up in front of her and looked at her hands, turning them over as if she would see the resemblance, then she turned around until she managed to catch sight of herself in a reflective surface. Then she let out a small squeal of delight, bringing her hands up to feel her face, poking at the huge grin she found there. “I look like my human!” She, yet again, seemed ecstatic about this. Rose was baffled by the way the duplicate of her had practically claimed her, but it gave her the sense that she perhaps knew her.

“Yeah, you do. So, um… Who are you?”

“Oh, yes. I’m-” She paused as if she couldn’t quite remember. “Oh, what do you call me? You call me a name that’s not my name. I’m blue. We travel… I go-” Rose jumped a mile in the air when the familiar sounds of the TARDIS dematerialising came from the other Rose’s mouth.

“The TARDIS?!” she said in shocked disbelief.

“Yes! Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. That’s it! That’s me. I’m the TARDIS.”

Weakly, Rose backed up until her legs touched the couch and she sunk down onto it, her mouth hanging open slightly. “Oh my god… But-but how? How’s this possible? And how come you look like me?”

“Ooh! It’s quite simple, really,” the TARDIS told her. “There’s a crack in the universe that I was able to squeeze my consciousness through. But I couldn’t just -poof! – get a body. I needed energy and DNA and matter and a whole bunch of other things that would take longer than we have to list! Since you’re the only one who’s ever actually touched me and not just my console, yours was the only DNA I could use. It’s not permanent, though. It won’t last long. And I’m afraid I am terribly weak. I’m using what little energy I have left to do this-” Suddenly, she whimpered in pain and sunk to the ground. As she did, Rose quickly reached out and pulled her down onto the couch with her.

“Are you okay?” she said in alarm and concern. She held onto the Rose shaped TARDIS, running a hand over her head to check her temperature. She seemed normal, but there was clearly something wrong.

“I’ll be okay eventually,” she said, trying for a smile. It was a weak one that Rose knew all too well. She had given that smile so, so many times over the last year. It was how she smiled when she was trying to hide her pain from her family.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just an insane Time Lord – and for once I do not mean the Doctor – has stolen me and turned me into a paradox machine.”

“Oh no. That’s not good.”

“No, it isn’t. But all will be well in the end… I hope. There are a lot of outcomes, but this is the Doctor. Besides, it’s worth it. The paradox has weakened the walls between the universes. It’s the only way I could get here, and I’m so glad that I did.” The TARDIS smiled at her, and this time it was a genuine one. “The Doctor and I can’t live without our human. We hate it. We’re so sad… And you feel the same. But you, Rose Tyler, literally can’t live without us… Or, well, me.

“Literally?” She raised her eyebrows in question. “What do you mean literally?” The words put her on edge, especially since she sensed just how true they were. But, despite the foreboding, she couldn’t bring herself to be anything but overjoyed and excited. The walls of the universe were weak. That meant that the Dimension Canon might be able to work finally. But to one-up that, the TARDIS herself was sitting there in her living room!

“You’ve already noticed it, haven’t you?” the TARDIS asked her. “Ever since I’ve been here, you haven’t felt quite as sick. And you’ve been sick for a long time now, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.” Rose nodded. “Started not long after Dårlig Ulv Stranden. It was mostly just… headaches. All the time. And then migraines. Sickness, seizures, dizzy spells and weakness. Mum was scared it was a tumour or something, but the tests all show nothing’s wrong.”

“No, I don’t imagine cellular destructuralisation would show on the technology here.”

“Cellular destructuralisation?”

“Yes, a side effect from being cut off from me, I’m afraid.”

“But… doesn’t that mean that I was… falling apart or something? Wouldn’t that mean I was dying?”

“Yes, yes it does. You’ve been studying!” The TARDIS smiled at her proudly.

“Before the sickness made me have to stop, yeah. H-how come I’m dying?” Really, she ought to be horrified by the idea, but she found she wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Well, you should have been dead already. You weren’t meant to live past the Game Station. You shouldn’t have been able to survive, holding the Time Vortex within you. Only I can do that. And you didn’t… survive, that is. You died, for a moment there anyway. But the Doctor and I, we both loved you so much. We couldn’t let you die. He gave up one of his regenerations to at least take the Time Vortex out of you. He hoped that he could save you, but he knew in his hearts that you would die. You held onto it for much longer than he did, and it killed him after only a few seconds of holding it. There was no way he could have saved you. And he didn’t want to go on like that without you.

He didn’t understand how you survived, it completely baffled him. Though, it did make him overjoyed. He thought that there must have been something very special about you. And he was right. Because no other human would have given up their life to save him like that. No one had ever won the heart of the TARDIS – my heart. And you did, Rose. I love you as much as he does… of course, not quite in the same way, but just as much. I couldn’t stand to see you die… to see the devastation it would cause him.

So, I bonded myself to you… I’ve never bonded to anyone before. Not the way we are. The Doctor and I are bonded. He’s my thief, my pilot, my Time Lord. When he dies, I die with him, but if I die, he will live on. Our bond… it’s both ways. We die when the other does. We can keep the other alive, or we can take them down as well. And with you in this universe, separated from us so completely. We may as well have been dead to one another. Our separation through the Void, it was slowly killing the both of us. I’m a little surprised you’ve lasted the year, but I’m glad. My Human is a fighter.”

“Okay, so… hold on, let me get this straight,” Rose said, holding up a hand to stay her. She could hardly comprehend what she was hearing. She felt as if her world had been flipped upside down by this revelation and her head was spinning. But at the same time, it just made so much sense. She’d always felt closer to the TARDIS after the Game Station, as if she could almost understand her. “So, I’ bonded to you… to the TARDIS, because I died from absorbing the Time Vortex. And because of the bond and being apart, we’re both dying. So, the only thing keeping me alive is being near you?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“S-so, are you taking me home then? Is that why you’re here? To take me back with you?” She couldn’t stop the hope creeping into her voice, but the TARDIS’s sad expression made it leave her in an instant.

“No.”

“No? But-”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I want to, but I can’t. I don’t have enough energy. And I wouldn’t be able to bring your physical form across the Void without killing you. Besides, you don’t want to go back to where I am. If the Master ever got his hands on you…” She shivered, her face going pale, and Rose had the feeling that she wasn’t just imagining the possibilities, but actually seeing them happen. “Not to mention that most of the outcomes where we all make it out okay, time reverses a year back to the moment I jumped through to here. You would suffer a year of torture and sickness only to be thrown back here to die once more. No, no, no. Not happening.”

“Yeah, no. I’d rather not.” At this point, she was kind of just sitting there stunned on the couch. She was trying to deal with the shock of what was happening, along with information overload, so at this point, she had decided to just roll with the punches. “But, isn’t there some other way? I-I can’t just stay here! Not if I’m just going to die! I’m working on something, a Dimension Cannon. It’s supposed to teleport you between dimensions, but it’s not an exact science of where and when you land. Also, I don’t think it works unless the walls of the universe are breaking down, and I probably don’t have time for that, do I?”

“No, I don’t imagine you would. But there is something we can do. We can stop it!”

“…Stop what?” Rose asked when the TARDIS didn’t elaborate.

“Canary Wharf. The separation. We can stop it from ever happening. You never leave our home universe. This timeline would cease to exist, and the three of us can continue travelling the stars. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS… as it should be.”

Rose’s eyebrows rose high. “What? How?! How would we do that?!” she said eagerly. She trusted the TARDIS beyond anything, the same as she trusted the Doctor. And it was a good thing that it was the TARDIS who was pitching her this idea because, at this point, she was willing to do anything to return to her home universe if it meant being with the Doctor in the TARDIS again. At times, she had even been willing to cause a paradox… Oh no. “It won’t cause a paradox, will it?”

The TARDIS smiled at her. “No, no it won’t. Paradoxes are caused when time is disrupted, but we won’t be disrupting it… we’re rewriting it. It will be a completely natural occurrence. See, the only part of you I can take back is your mind. And not only that, but the only way to ensure we don’t disrupt anything important is to take you all the way back… Back to the time you first stepped foot on the TARDIS.”

Rose started. “Wait, so I’m pretty much going to have to relive my life from after I first meet the Doctor? The whole two years?! …Or was it three?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“But… but I can’t do that!” She shot to her feet and began pacing restlessly. “I can’t just… do it all again knowing what happens. I can’t do nothing when I have the chance help people I couldn’t before. I can’t let innocent people die! And what about me? Young me? Do I just… take over my own body. What happens to the old me?”

“Rose, calm down. It will all be fine,” the TARDIS tried to soothe her. “Trust me. You’re not going to take over your own body, more… merge with it. You’ll still be that same wonderful nineteen-year-old girl… but at the same time, you will also still be this brilliant woman you are now… Oh, I’m not explaining it right. This would be much easier if I wasn’t using words. How do humans explain things so easily all the time?” Rose just shrugged. In her experience, explaining things wasn’t always easy, even for people who did talk all their lives. “Hmm, well, you will see what I mean soon anyway. As for saving people you couldn’t before… that can certainly happen. Most of the time anyway.”

Rose stopped her pacing, and her eyes brightened. “Wait, really?! What about causing paradoxes?”

“Well, that’s like I said. We’re rewriting, not disrupting. You can change what you like, so long as it doesn’t change the timelines too much. There are still certain things that brought us to where we were, and we still need to keep all that the same. And there are certain events, the deaths of certain people that shape the history of the universe. But so long as it doesn’t affect those, you can save whoever you can. I would never ask you not to help people when you can.” Another smile touched her lips. She was so glad that her Rose hadn’t changed and was just as passionate. That her time here in the parallel word hadn’t hardened her or worse.

“But, how would I know if I was changing something important or not?” Rose asked, looking a little panicked. “What if I change something, and – and… we end up not going somewhere we’re supposed to go! Or the Doctor decides he wants to take someone else instead of me! What if I screw it all up?!”

“Rose, relax,” the TARDIS found herself laughing. Oh, she liked that. But seeing her Human so panicked over it was quite adorable. She had every faith that Rose would do this perfectly. “I’ll be with you in your head. I can help. Of course, you’ll have to figure most things out on your own, make your own choices. But I can send you mental nudges and hints. Besides, I’m not your only tool. We have a bond, you took on the entire Time Vortex… Haven’t you noticed it yet? That feeling that you know what will happen if you decide to do something.”

“Y-yeah,” she said, thinking back. “Almost like I’m… guessing what can happen before it does. Mum kept telling me I should get a lottery ticket. Course, Dad always told her that was silly since we’re kinda really incredibly rich here…”

“Yes, exactly. Our bond had started to change your mind before you left. Had you kept travelling, it would have changed even more.”

“Seriously?” The idea pulled her up short. So, what? She would have become… psychic?

“Oh yes!” The gleeful tone that the TARDIS used with her own voice was so reminiscent of the Doctor that it made Rose grin. “There’s a couple of other things too. The Doctor can’t know. I know you won’t like the idea, and I don’t overly like it either, but the Doctor can’t know about what you’re doing. The longer you can keep it from him, the better. I fear that if he finds out, he might end up changing things too drastically.”

“But… what if he figures it out? He’s not just going to not notice. It’s the Doctor.”

“Hmm, that is true. I suppose it might be alright, depending on what he finds out and when. Of course, I will try and hinder his attempts. Oh! One other thing!” Here, the TARDIS grinned one of Rose’s cheeky tongue in cheek smiles. “When he asks you to travel with him… turn him down again.”

Rose baulked. “Wait, what? Why?!”

“So that he asks twice, of course. He did it last time. He’s never asked anyone to travel with him twice like that before. Usually, he offers once with the occasional ‘you sure’, and that’s it. But he went back five minutes later and asked a second time. He wanted you to travel with him so badly, it’s no wonder he fell for you so quickly. He thinks about that a lot.”

“Oh.” Rose couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered madly about every time the TARDIS told her that the Doctor loved her, or mentioned how much he cared. It soothed like a balm, especially when she thought back to his cut off words on the beach. There were still times, even now, even being so sure what he was going to say, that she doubted he could ever love her back. She was only human, after all… But, no. She was more than that. Not just because of the TARDIS, she had always been more than just that.

Only, now she would be able to live well beyond human years since she was bonded to the TARDIS in a way that not even he was. Her eyes suddenly lit up. She knew that that was one of the only barriers that ever stopped them from becoming more. He’d practically admitted as much the time she’d met Sara Jane. She would live as long as the TARDIS!

“Hold on!” she gasped. “So, you die when the Doctor does?”

“Give or take a few years,” she replied with a nod.

“And I live as long as you do…”

“Yes.” Now the TARDIS was grinning, knowing that she had caught on.

“I can live as long as he will…”

“As long as everything goes alright and nothing happens to either of us, yes. You will.”

“…Oh my god, I’m going to live for hundreds of years!” she cried. She’d vaguely known this when the TARDIS told her, but the implications were now only just hitting her.

“You won’t age,’ the TARDIS assured her. “Not past a few more years anyway.” Then she finally seemed to notice the overwhelmed expression on Rose’s face. “I’m sorry. I had to bond us. It was the only way. We couldn’t lose you.”

“Do I look like I’m complaining?!” she cried, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up from her. “I just… Oh god. I think I just need time to adjust to it, yeah. It sounds… insane.”

“No more so than anything else you’ve seen since you met the Doctor.” She sounded confused by Rose’s bafflement.

“Yeah, but… nothing I considered impossible ever really happened to me, you know? Not like that, anyway. Or, at least, I didn’t think I had.”

“Oh, Rose Tyler, you have no idea-” The end of her sentence was cut off as she let out another sharp cry, doubling over with her arms curled around her middle in pain. Rose rushed to her immediately. It had been so long since that had last happened that she’d completely forgotten the TARDIS was in pain. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” the TARDIS gasped, sitting back up straight.

“You sure?” she asked, holding her steady. “What’s happening?”

“I believe… we are running out of time. I can’t hold this form much longer before it breaks back down into energy. We need to go now.”

“N-now? But what about my family?” Rose asked. “Won’t they wonder what happened? I can’t just not say goodbye.”

“It won’t matter,” the TARDIS said, trying for a small, reassuring smile, though it looked far more like a pained grimace. “We will be – hopefully be – completely cutting this reality, this timeline from existence. With any luck, you will never fall and never had the need to say goodbye to them at this point in time. And you will see Jackie and Mickey very soon. But we must go now. If I don’t get you back, we both die.”

Rose nodded firmly. Hearing those words, she imagined how devastated the Doctor would be without her or his beloved ship, and her already pretty firm resolve hardened. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. I want my Doctor back.”

The TARDIS smiled tiredly. She could practically taste her Human’s excitement, and that gave her the energy to pull them both to their feet.

“Good. Now, just remember, when you get back, we won’t be linked physically like we are now. Not until you absorb the Time Vortex again. But we will still be linked mentally. We can do this.”

Rose nodded, and the TARDIS placed her hands on her temples. She closed her eyes like she was concentrating, and Rose felt a harsh jolt in her mind as if she had just been shoved off a cliff…

And then she was gone.

Author Note:

As seems to be the rule with my rewritten scenes, this chapter almost doubled in length. From 2,404 to 4,691 words (4 → 8 pages). I was really proud of this update. Not just in my writing skills, but also in how I explained things a little clearer and made it flow nicer.

The original can still be read on fanfiction.net if you are interested to see how it’s changed.

Chapter Index | First Chapter | Next Chapter >>

#history repeats #doctor who

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ghostsray · 5 years

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@wastefulreverie helped me write a fic (i wrote the story, and she edited my shitty writing into something good) based on a prompt @dannyphantomisameme came up with in the pbs server

basic summary: wes gets captured by the giw (TW: implied vivisection)

word count: 4591

___

By Danny’s standards, it was a normal day. And by ‘normal’ that entailed battling a large, snarling ghost wolf in the middle of Amity Park Park. But it was fine. After a year of experience, he was getting good at these daily fights, and the wolf provided no challenge for him. He captured the ghost with little difficulty, and the bystanders who were watching erupted into cheers. Well, most of them anyway.

“Fenton!”

At the exclamation, Danny reflexively turned his head. Realizing his mistake, he immediately regretted his decision. Wes Weston, smug as always, was standing behind him. Wes turned to the crowd and pointed out, “See? He responded to his name. He’s Fenton!”

For a split second Danny worried that they might listen to him, but fortunately, his worries seemed to be pointless. On cue, the crowd groaned and collectively rolled their eyes. Paulina put her hands on her hips. “Really, Wes?” She spoke with enough expertise to deny his claim since she always watched Phantom’s battles.

With wide eyes, Wes sputtered, “But—come on, that was solid proof!”

“Right,” Paulina dragged out. “Just because he happened to turn his head in your general direction when you happened to say a name that happened to be Danny Fenton’s last name.”

The fury on Wes’s face was almost comical. He gestured again at Danny and yelled, “He literally looks the same!”

A mischievous smile crawled onto Danny’s face. His voice carried a mocking tone when he spoke, “Gee, Wes, I don’t know.” Floating closer to the boy, he placed a hand under his chin and pretended to inspect the red-headed teen. “I mean, you look kinda similar to me, too.”

Dash laughed, lightly elbowing Paulina. When it came to watching Phantom’s fights, he did his best to accompany her. “I bet Wes is Phantom, and he’s just trying to frame Danny to keep his secret!” the jock conceived.

The steam out of Wes’s ears was nearly visible. “Seriously?” he seethed. He held out his arms Will Smith-style toward Danny and shouted, “How can I be Phantom if he’s right here?!”

“Duplication, duh,” Sam suggested. She and Tucker had been observing the entire exchange, straining to stifle their laughter.

Wes growled and grabbed a fistful of his hair. “Whatever, I’m leaving!” he decided. He fled from the park, ignoring the snickers from the crowd.

Phantom gave one last heroic wave to his audience before he vanished from the visible spectrum. A few feet away, no one noticed the flash of light behind a nearby tree, nor when Danny Fenton stepped out beside it. He joined his friends and watched the crowd disperse.

Once they were out of earshot, Sam was the first to speak. “Do you ever feel bad, bullying Wes like that?” she asked. The three friends met eyes for a moment. Breaking the tension, they all burst into laughter.

“As if,” Tucker choked. “That guy deserves it.”

Swallowing his laughter, Danny straightened himself. “Anyway, I’m sure Wes will be fine,” he pointed out. It’s not like Wes was in danger or anything, he was just… a jerk. Danny wouldn’t joke about it if it was actually serious. As it stood, the worst thing that came out of Wes’s wild accusations was some mockery from his classmates.

Danny grinned, kicking his shoes against the sidewalk. “So,” he gestured to his left, “Nasty Burger?”

Sam and Tucker murmured in agreement and the trio finally exited the park. On their way to the restaurant, they passed a bulky white van, but none of them thought much of it. It was just a white van; it wasn’t peculiar or anything.

The next day, Wes didn’t come to school.

Nobody really cared. Wes was known to cut class everyone now and then. Since adopting his obsession with Danny, he spent so many nights plotting Danny’s grand exposure that he either overslept or simply forgot about school.

Everyone simultaneously decided to enjoy this Wes-free time; any break from having his conspiracy theories shoved down their throats was welcome. Tucker even joked that this was like a vacation for them. The day passed, and Wes remained absent, but nobody thought much about it. People missed school all the time! He must have gotten sick or something.

With all his other problems, Danny easily put Wes out of his mind… until later that night. He’d finally managed to find some time to do homework (for once) when Jazz inevitably interrupted his study-time. She entered his room with a knock and held out a phone, gesturing for him to take it.

“Someone wants to speak with you,” she told him. Danny furrowed his brows. The only people that ever called him were Sam and Tucker... and they only called his cellphone.

He spun his desk chair around and accepted the phone. Before putting it to his ear, he asked Jazz, “Who is it?”

Jazz shrugged. “Some adult. He says his son is your friend.”

The only person Danny could think of was Tucker’s dad (Sam’s dad would be caught dead before talking to him). So why would Tucker’s dad be calling him? Doing little to filter his confusion, Danny raised the phone to his ear and answered it. He was taken aback when he realized that he wasn’t talking to Maurice Foley; it was Walter Weston—Wes’s dad.

“Hi, uh,” Walter started, “have you talked to Wes today?”

Danny thoughtlessly shook his head, then realized Walter couldn’t see him. “No?” Danny replied apprehensively. “He didn’t come to school today. Why?”

He heard rustling on Walter’s end of the call and assumed that he was pacing back and forth. “He’s not home. I haven’t seen him… not since yesterday. Out of everyone, I thought you might know something since he’s…”

“Obsessed with me?” Danny completed.

Walter hesitated, “… yeah.”

And suddenly, despite not caring about Wes, Danny was worried. Wes wasn’t the type to run from anything, especially away from home. And if he’s been missing since yesterday, then it was logical to believe that something must have happened….

But Danny didn’t have the faintest idea where Wes might be. He bit his lip and told Walter, “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything.”

Walter sighed, obviously disappointed. “That’s fine. Just… call me if you see him.”

The line was hung, and Danny tried to go back to his homework, but he found it hard to concentrate. He tried telling himself that Wes was fine, and that he probably slept over at some fellow conspiracy theorist’s place or something. Still, that night when he patrolled the city for ghosts, he made sure to keep his eyes out for any red-haired teen. He didn’t find Wes.

The next day, Wes was still absent. Like before, everyone else at school didn’t mind. Heck, nobody really even noticed. Those who had picked up on Wes’s disappearance had decided that he was sick and was spending his days at home. But Danny knew that wasn’t the case—not after his phone call with Walter.

“So you think Wes is missing?” Sam asked. They were sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. He couldn’t hold it in anymore and had told her and Tucker about Walter’s call.

“He hasn’t been home for almost two days now. What else could it be?” Danny replied and ran a hand through his hair.

“Maybe he…” Tucker paused, trying to think of a good reason for Wes to spend two days away from home. He came up dry. “Okay, fine, maybe it’s a little concerning.”

Danny picked at his nails anxiously. “What if something bad happened to him because of me?”

Sam crossed her arms. “You mean because he chose to spend his time trying to expose you?” she pointed out with a defensive tone.

“Well, yeah…” Danny amended, “but I still feel kind of responsible.” He stared straight ahead, looking between the A-List and geek tables. “Remember that time he followed Skulker into the Ghost Zone to go after me?”

“You think Wes might be in the Ghost Zone?” Tucker wondered.

Danny shrugged. “It’s possible. Otherwise, someone would’ve found him already.”

“So… what?” Sam figured. “You’re gonna search the entire Zone for him?”

Danny seemed to deflate, but then he perked back up as an idea came to him. “Maybe I don’t need to scour the entire Ghost Zone….”

Hours later, after school was over, Danny made his way to the Far Frozen. He found Frostbite inside one of their grand caves and pulled him aside for a favor. Frostbite bristled hesitantly. “I am not so sure,” he expressed. “The last time I lent you the Infi-Map…”

“It won’t be like last time,” Danny assured him. “I promise. It’s just to find my friend.”

The frost giant pondered a while longer, but he eventually acquiesced. “Very well,” he said. He strode to the center of the cave and stopped in front of a floating chest encased in pale blue light. He unlocked the chest with a shard of ice and pulled out a golden scroll. Carefully, he handed it to Danny.

Danny nodded and thanked the yeti ghost. “I promise I won’t lose it this time,” he assured. With a sound resolution, he held the map a few feet from his face and declared, “Take me to Wes.” For a moment, nothing happened, and he wondered if he had been too vague; but then the map lurched, and Danny’s world spun as it pulled him out of the cave. The Ghost Zone passed in a whirl of green and purple before he was finally led straight to a newly formed natural portal.

Danny wasn’t exactly sure where he expected to land, but it certainly wasn’t here. As soon as he fell through the portal, he was greeted with the distinct scent of antiseptics and concentrated ectoplasm. It reminded him of his parents’ lab, but there was something else here… some sort of coppery smell? Danny glanced around and realized that this was a laboratory. But why would Wes be here? he wondered.

He inspected his surroundings more and found that there were tables with beakers, microscopes, and other standard lab equipment. Metal shelves lined the wall, containing what looked like… ecto-weapons? And in the center of the room...

Danny’s stomach did a sickening flip. He felt like he had just floated upside down at two-hundred miles per hour, but his feet were placed firmly on the linoleum floor. Danny fought his nausea and forced himself to keep looking at the ghastly sight.

In the center of the room was a metal table with leather straps, like some sort of demented operating table. It was long enough for a human to be laid on, at least six feet long. And in the dim light of the room, Danny could perceive the sheen of dark, crimson blood. So, so much blood.

Danny practically clasped his hands over his mouth to keep himself from crying out, an alarmed scream halfway up his throat. His stomach lurched again, and this time he was aware that he might… might throw up. Oh Ancients, not good not good not g—

He was subtly rocking back and forth to ease his stomach, to refrain from vomiting. The soft motion helped a bit with his nausea, but did little to soothe his abject terror. And suddenly, he was aware of nearby voices—both male—speaking nearby. To preserve his presence, he quickly turned himself invisible to avoid being caught.

He realized a moment later that the voices were coming from an adjacent room.

“Are you sure?” asked one of the men.

“The evidence is indisputable,” replied the other. “He’s a living human. One hundred percent organic matter, beating heart, lungs, brain—he only has trace ectoplasmic contamination, normal for Amity residents.”

The first man cursed. “So we got the wrong guy.”

Danny hadn’t even realized that he was subconsciously backing away from the voices until he bumped into a metal table. The force of the impact toppled an empty beaker over the edge, breaking it into innumerable shards.

The voices lulled. Then he heard footsteps approaching the door. Danny panicked and turned himself intangible, shooting through the opposite wall and landing in a new room. He realized too late that he had accidentally dropped his invisibility along with his intangibility when a weak voice prompted his attention.

“Danny?”

He instinctively turned to face whoever spoke his name and froze. It was like a vacuum had sucked all the air out of the room, leaving Danny’s lungs empty. In front of him was a shimmering, green barrier—most likely a ghost shield—and behind that transparent wall was… “Wes?”

Admittedly, Danny didn’t even recognize him at first glance. His usually tidy hair was mussed in every direction, dull and greasy. His cheeks were prominently sunken, like he hadn’t eaten in a long time. Not to mention, his bloodshot eyes were weary and tired, emphasized by the dark bags hung under his eyelids. Fresh bruises were peppered across his skin, mottling his skin in hues of blue and purple.

“What—” Danny’s tongue felt like it was tied in a knot, crossed over itself multiple times. “What happ—why—” He struggled to comprehend why Wes was like this, who had done this. Danny stepped close to the ghost shield separating them and pressed his hand against it, trying to move it through the barrier, but it was rock-solid.

Wes’s lips curled into a perturbing smile. His eyes were humorless, chilling. “Why?” Wes’s voice cracked. He sounded dehydrated, broken… Danny doubted he had drunk anything all day, or… maybe he had spent all day screaming. His green eyes misted over and met Danny’s own terrified, neon stare. “They thought I was you.”

His words hit Danny like a hard blow.

The joke that Wes was Phantom had existed for a long time, long before Wes was set on exposing Danny. But that was all it was—a joke. To think that someone genuinely would believe it….

It was then that Danny noticed the bandages wrapped around Wes’s bare chest. At some point, they had stripped his shirt, which allowed Danny a good look at all the new scars gracing Wes’s torso. The white gauze of his bandages was stained with fresh blood, and Danny was instantly reminded of all the blood he had seen on the operation table. Once again, his stomach plummeted—and so did he. Danny dropped to his knees and scoured his gaze across all of Wes’s injuries (that were his fault).

In his peripheral vision, Danny saw his own hand shaking from where it was still pressed against the shield. He considered turning human so he could pull Wes out, but Wes read his train of thought. “Don’t bother transforming,” he informed. “The shield works for both ghosts and humans—you can’t do anything.”

Danny’s eyes darted back to Wes. His chest crumpled at how broken his classmate looked. Wes didn’t deserve to be in this situation. As annoying as he was, he should never have been mistaken for Danny. Despite his helplessness, Danny’s core throbbed with dedication. “I’ll get you out,” he promised.

For a moment, Danny thought he saw a glimmer of hope in Wes’s eyes, a small light in the abyss of dull misery. But it was short-lived. The footsteps—the men from the other room!—returned. Danny whipped around to find a group of white-clad men holding ecto-rifles. Guys in White agents. Of course, how could he have been so blind? The Guys in White were the only organization inept enough to truly mistake Wes for Phantom, ignorant government cronies.

Danny didn’t have time to prepare when they raised their weapons, aiming to fire. Blasts assaulted him from every direction and Danny did his best to fight them off, using the ghost shield behind him to his advantage—unlike a regular wall, the shield would deflect all of their blasts back at them. However, no matter how hard he tried, he knew that it was useless; Danny was outnumbered, and he wouldn’t last forever. It was impossible to defeat them all and break Wes out of the shield before the next round of agents.

In the end, he was pinned under a ghost-proof net, bleeding in about three different places. An agent, a man with cold eyes and calloused hands, stood over him with a lopsided grin. “Looks like capturing the human wasn’t useless, after all,” he said. He placed a foot over Danny’s crouching form. “We got the ghost boy.”

Danny gritted his teeth. He was out of options, and at this point, he wouldn’t be able to escape with Wes. Sure, he still had the map, but he couldn’t just leave him behind… left at the GiW’s mercy...

But what choice did he have?

Danny glanced sideways and met Wes’s desperate stare. Guilt and defeat wracked his conscience and Danny clenched his fists. He didn’t want to… everything in him screamed not to do it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Wes’s eyes widened. “What?”

Danny held the map in front of him, ignoring the agents’ curiosity and Wes’s gasp of realization. The red-headed boy crawled toward the shield’s wall, trembling as he fought tremors of pain, “No, no, don’t leave me—”

“Take me back,” Danny told the map, firmly holding onto the scroll. The GiW agent standing over him stumbled backward when Danny was pulled out from under the net. As he was whisked away, he heard one last desperate cry from Wes. And then, he was swallowed by a portal to the Ghost Zone, and everything vanished into green.

It was a matter of seconds before he was pulled onto a floating rock and collapsed on his knees. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the portal he’d been pulled through had closed itself, meaning the GiW wouldn’t be able to follow him. Even though he knew that he was safe now, he couldn’t seem to calm himself down. His breath was still erratic and his hands—dang hands—wouldn’t stop shaking.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Wes and all the scars that had been marked across his pale body, followed by the image of that bloody table. Bile rose in his throat and he haphazardly swallowed it, forcing it down. If what he thinks happened did happen, then….

One of Danny’s biggest fears that he never spoke about, not even to Sam or Tucker, was the fear of being dissected. After all, he was threatened with it enough that it was a probable situation. His biology was rare; obviously getting him on a lab table was any scientist’s dream. His parents rambled on and on about dissecting ghosts that he dreamt about it too—being strapped to an examination table, crowded by scientists, sterilized scalpels digging into his skin. And in every nightmare, he was always the one staring into the eyes of the scientists, on the receiving end of their knives. Not Wes. It was never meant to be Wes.

He clenched his fists. It was never meant to be Wes. This was never supposed to happen, so Danny would make sure it never would… couldn’t… happen.

He made up his mind, stood from his rock, and propelled himself into the air. He knew the way to Clockwork’s lair like the back of his hand and was there in minutes.

“No,” Clockwork refused, upon his arrival.

Danny wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t make him any more content with Clockwork’s answer. “I know you saw what happened to Wes,” he pressed. “They… they thought he was me. It’s wrong. He shouldn’t have been captured.”

Clockwork’s red eyes studied Danny as he shifted into a child, unchanging. “So you’d rather they capture you, instead?”

Danny hesitated. Worst fear or not, Wes didn’t deserve what they had done to him. The images were burned into his eyelids: Wes’s body mottled with half-healing scars, curled up in a heap on the floor, and the sinister curl of the GiW agent’s lips…. He met Clockwork’s eyes with a determined stare. “Yes.”

Clockwork’s sharp gaze softened, shifting into an old man. “I’m sorry,” he stated, “I can’t help you.”

Danny clenched his fists. “So you’re just going to leave him there?” he accused, more desperate than angry.

“Of course not,” Clockwork replied with a staid frown. “He’s going to be released whether I interfere or not.”

Danny blinked in surprise. “Really?” he asked. Clockwork nodded and shifted into a young adult.

“The GiW have seen that he’s not a ghost. They’ll be sending him home by next morning.”

Instantly, Danny felt slightly relieved, but Clockwork’s news didn’t ease all his troubles. He believed the time ghost, seeing as he had no reason to lie. Still, he couldn’t help remember the blood across the table, slick and pooled across the metal surface. Wes’s dark bandages and his abject desperation when Danny left him alone with the agents. Even as a ghost, he found himself shiver. “He won’t be the same,” he realized, quietly.

Clockwork leaned against his staff and turned to look at the circular time window next to them. Danny couldn’t see anything but a swirling green vortex, but Clockwork seemed to discern something in the window. “He’ll heal with time,” he said, watching the swirling green window, knowingly. “You go home. I promise you will meet Wes tomorrow.”

Everything in Danny wanted to argue, to protest that he wanted to speak to Wes now. That he wanted Wes to be okay now, but he knew that it would be useless against the master of time. Reluctantly, he flew from Clockwork’s lair and (after returning the Infi-Map to Frostbite) returned to the human world through the Fenton Portal.

No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he was revisited by graphic images of Wes being tortured, tools of all sorts ripping him open, searching for evidence that he was Phantom—looking for something that only Danny had. He saw Wes pressed against the floor, clutching his bandages, and shaking as he bled. He twisted and turned until finally he couldn’t ignore the sunlight breaking through his curtains.

Normally, Danny flew to school, but something compelled him to walk today. Since it was earlier than usual and Sam and Tucker probably weren’t awake yet, he figured he’d walk alone. His body moved on autopilot, his legs carrying him mechanically to the direction of Casper High.

At least, he thought it was the direction of Casper High. He managed to deceive himself for a while until finally he looked up and found himself standing in front of Wes’s apartment building.

And there, sitting on the doorstep, was Wes.

Danny inhaled sharply. That action must have alerted Wes to his presence because seconds later the broken red-head lifted his head to meet Danny’s eyes. Danny lost himself in the emptiness of Wes’s eyes and realized that they looked just as tired as they had in the GiW facility.

“You’re okay,” Danny managed to say. Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. After what he figured had happened to Wes, he was certain that he could never be okay. Who could?

Wes must have been thinking the same thing, but he kept his silence. His demeanor darkened and he growled, “No thanks to you.”

Danny gulped. “I’m sorry,” he expressed. His apology was heartfelt, but it did little to express his desire that none of this should have happened. He moved closer to Wes, who kept his posture still and guarded. “I didn’t want to leave you behind, but there was nothing I could do, and…” he trailed off and bit his lip. What could he possibly say to make up for leaving him? For any of this screwed up situation? He didn’t know, he couldn’t think. Staying up all night had stolen any coherent apology he might have been able to scrounge up. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, softly.

Wes’s eyes were glued to him, yet dark and unreadable. “Sorry for not trying harder, or for getting me into this mess in the first place?” he ground out.

Danny winced. “I—I never meant to… but you know I had to keep my identity a secret.”

“So you’re glad they caught me instead of you?”

Danny’s eyes widened. “No! Of course not—”

Wes cut him off by standing up. Danny didn’t miss the way that he winced when he moved, pulling himself to his feet. This time when Wes looked into Danny’s eyes, he didn’t mask his pain—Danny could sense his unfiltered agony and cringed.

“I told them I wasn’t a ghost,” Wes began, “but they didn’t believe me. Even after they ran all their tests, they thought I must be hiding my ghostliness in some way,” he emphasized bitterly. “So they…” A lump formed in Wes’s throat, and he turned his gaze to the sidewalk, letting his eyes roam across the sparkly concrete. He took a shaky breath, one so soft that Danny wasn’t sure he could’ve heard without his enhanced senses. He looked back to Danny and whispered, “They cut me up.”

Danny fell silent. He didn’t know what to say. After all, who could even respond to that? All he could do was watch, paralyzed, as Wes sniffled and wiped away a stray tear.

“It doesn’t matter,” the red-head finally decided. “They know now.”

That admission snapped Danny out of his guilt-ridden haze. “Know what?” He had a suspicion… but no. Not that. They couldn’t know that.

“I told them, of course,” Wes nonchalantly explained. “That you’re Phantom. They didn’t listen at first, but after realizing it wasn’t me, well… they did.”

Suddenly, Danny grew aware of the white van in his peripheral vision. A door slid open and men started stepping out of it, armed with guns aimed at the two of them. He knew, now, why Wes was sitting on the doorstep out in the open. They had been counting on his arrival. Wes was bait—and he had fallen for their trap. He felt his heartbeat accelerate, yet he didn’t look away from the broken boy standing before him.

“They were probably listening to our conversation,” Wes stated, eyeing the agents behind Danny. “If they had any doubts about what I told them, they’re gone now.”

The weapons whined as they charged. White boots crunched against gravel as they approached, closer and closer—

And Wes smiled, his first real smile since he had been taken. “You should run now,” he suggested. “I wouldn’t want you to go through what I did.”

Danny ducked at the perfect moment, barely avoiding getting shot. He felt the blasts from the weapons soar where his head had been a split second before and whipped around. He eyed the agents that were surrounding him, doing nothing to mask the fiery green glow in his eyes. It was too late. They know now, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

They know.

With one last glance at Wes, Danny turned himself invisible and kicked off the ground, using what limited flight he had in human form. Wes was right, he had to run—because once they caught him, it would be all over. He’d end up just like Wes, but they wouldn’t let him go. They’d keep him and use him as their sick little lab rat until he finally died.

He had to run… had to… run.

#consider this my entry for the last prompt of dannymay19 since i never made anything for that #danny phantom #wes weston #angst #fic #mine

221 notes · View notes

tony-starkrogers · 5 years

Text

The Massive SteveTony Rec List

Welcome to my Fairly Comprehensive, Ridiculously Long SteveTony Fic Recs, aka my collection of pretty much nearly everything I’ve read and loved so far over the years. This fandom is lucky enough to have some truly brilliant and dedicated authors, and I’m always discovering new fics to love, so I thought I’d share some of them with you! Fics will be sorted alphabetically tbh just because I suck at sorting stuff? Some of my personal forever-faves will be marked with ♡. This is by no means all of the fics this fandom has to offer, but if you’re new to the fandom, this should give you a good place to start, and if you’ve been a SteveTony shipper for a while, hopefully you’ll find something new! And if you do have a favorite fic that’s not on the list, please add it to the comments or rec it to me (because who doesn’t need more fics)!

Here’s just a few GREAT resources to check out if you’re looking for Even More fic recs:

@sabrecmcstonyficrecs - I mean, sabre is basically THE fandom resource? Any and all fic you’re looking for you’ll likely find here. ||| @findingstony - if you’re looking for a particular fic and don’t remember where you found it, look here first! ||| @cap-ironman - the place to go, especially for brand new fics! the fandom lives here ||| @nasaficsrecs - many good fic recs ||| @ishipallthings many wonderful rec lists ||| @sineala - the place to go if you are at all interested in 616 SteveTony or really anything in the 616 comics universe

I have lots of fics bookmarked on ao3: my bookmarks! You can also check out my other fic rec lists, and my general fic rec tag. Also while you’re at it maybe check out some of my fics?

And here are the recs! (under the cut.) Have fun reading and be sure to show your authors some love with kudos and comments!!!

♡ 1796 Broadway by rainproof, teaberryblue - M | 460,220 words

Captain America respectfully requests that all complaints be addressed to him in writing. On paper, the nice old-fashioned way, because the computer screen hurts his eyes.

Put your phone down, Tony.

absence makes the heart by fantalaimon - G | 4,835 words

“One night,” Tony says, and just flies himself bodily into one of the canary yellow beekeepers like a red and gold battering ram. “I ask for one measly night. One single goddamn night with my boyfriend—”

“Oh, is the boyfriend label on now?” Clint asks over the comms.

A Higher Form of War by sabrecmc - M | 292,114 words

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

A New Way For Us by ann2who - M | 24,435 words

They fight Thanos—and they’re losing. And before Tony knows what’s happening, he’s standing with Doctor Strange in front of the Eye of Agamotto and gets send back in time. Can he find a way to fix things this time around, or are they doomed to fall apart all over again?

♡ A Partial Dictionary Of The 21st Century By Captain Steve Rogers, US Army by copperbadge - E | 13,888 words

Steve is adapting well to the new millennium, and he has the dictionary to prove it.

age is an irrational number by valtyr - E | 8,749 words

Steve and Tony grow old together.

♡ All Roads Lead To by theappleppielifestyle - G | 13,155 words

After Obadiah's betrayal, Tony hides in the depths of the Midwest to become a mechanic.

The Avengers come into his life anyway.

All These Things I've Said by Amuly - M | 5,840 words

When Tony starts talking in a language Steve can't understand--the language of science--Steve figures he'll retaliate with a little foreign language knowledge of his own. Only once he starts speaking French around Tony, Steve finds that sometimes it's easier to say what he really wants to say to Tony in a language he can't understand.

Good thing Tony doesn't know French.

And The Void Would Be Calling. by jadedoll - E | 17,721 words

Tony could be suffering from amnesia, a hitch-hiker from a parallel dimension, a ghost or maybe a time-traveller. He's sure he could work out the answer if Steve would just stop pretending he was Tony's boyfriend.

♡ As Sharp As Any Thorn by RurouniHime - E | 47,027 words

It’s four days to Christmas, there’s a city in shambles, and the nation is in mourning because of the actions of a single man.

♡ Be No Stranger (All Your Saints and Soldiers Remix) by jibrailis - T | 5,973 words

That's the twenty-first century love song, baby. Glitz and glamour and every one of us is a liar.

Bizarre Love Triangle by panickyintheuk - T | 1,929 words

Once the idea was in his head, he’d started picking up on all kinds of things, like the way Stark talked about Iron Man with such affection, and seemed to share so many of his mannerisms, and was constantly working on ways of improving the suit. It was obvious.

Blank Slate - A Tony Stark Mystery by navaan - T | 25,381 words

He doesn’t remember who he is or who his friends are, but he knows he’s in a Nazi prison and needs to get away. He doesn’t remember anything about Captain America either, but the man seems to be the kind of guy you trust.And apparently they share more history than meets the eye at first glance.

♡ But Loving Him Is Red by theappleppielifestyle - Not Rated | 25,524 words

"It is- it is not just destined, Steve Rogers. It will reach through the decades, through entire universes if it has to. It will scour the galaxies without rest until the two of you are standing next to each other. Migardians- Migardians call them soulmates, I believe."

♡ Captain America, Undone by laireshi - M | 2,818 words

Steve thinks he can seduce Tony before Tony seduces him. He's very, very wrong.

♡ Captain !@#$*%& America by Wordsplat - T | 8,093 words

The first time Tony hears Steve swear, he's pretty sure it's a dream. The second time is a lot harder to dismiss, considering it's the middle of the afternoon and they're both clearly awake. After that, what else can Tony do but use science to get to the bottom of it?

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by sabrecmc - M | 120,650 words

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

♡ Cherry Ride by copperbadge - E | 12,318 words

A SHIELD agent named Roger Stevens told Tony that his nickname was "Cap". Tony didn't connect the dots until it was much, much too late.

♡ Counterpart by sara_holmes - M | 217,400 words

coun•ter•part [koun-ter-pahrt] [noun] 1. a person or thing closely resembling another, especially in function. 2. a copy; duplicate. 3. one of two parts that fit, complete, or complement one another.

Just because Hydra used the DNA of a Captain America from another dimension to create a lab-grown, six-year-old super-soldier, it doesn't mean that said six-year old super-soldier is biologically Steve's, right?

(Where Steve wants to ban Clint from bringing things home from alternative dimensions, until he doesn't.)

Dangerous Kitchen Tools by ladyshadowdrake - E | 18,330 words

Engineering prodigy, billionaire, and heir to the Stark Industries empire, Tony Stark turned the business world on its head by opening a restuarant and burying himself in the kitchen. Years later, he covers an informal evening cooking class for his friend and fellow molecular gastronomist, Bruce Banner, where he meets famously camera-shy comic artist Steve Rogers.

♡ Dazed and Confused by tsukinofaerii - M | 4,160 words

Captain America has a great many duties that need careful attention. He has to... uh... That thing where... Wow, Tony's pants are awfully tight, aren't they?

Dear Tony, by sirona - T | 5,925 words

Once the dust after what no one is referring to as "The Break-up" has settled, Steve starts writing and doesn't seem to know how to stop.

"death by coffee" and other search queries by goodmorningbeloved - T | 2,841 words

In which Steve's feelings are hopelessly obvious through his Google searches. JARVIS decides to step in.

Deep in the Heart of Me by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar) - E | 255,926 words

There were days when the realization that he was someone’s father made Steve's head hurt, but mostly he was grateful that he could trust his instincts, because apparently Peter was what had been missing from his life. Yes, he still had lingering, unresolved issues from his time in the Army, and sure, he had what Bucky annoyingly referred to as a criminally untapped ass, and no life outside of work and Peter, but Steve was okay with how his life had turned out because of trusting his instincts.

Unfortunately, those same instincts had straight up betrayed him by going absolutely haywire upon being exposed to Tony Stark.

Do It Over by Sineala - T | 1,999 words

The last words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin, and you won't know who they are until they die. The thing is, Steve and Tony die a lot.

♡ don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved - M | 11,209 words

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”-

In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

♡ Emanata (The Comics Will Break Your Heart Remix) by teaberryblue - T | 29,720 words

Steve Rogers has the opportunity to fulfill his childhood dreams of becoming a comic artist when eccentric billionaire, superhero patron, and obsessive comic enthusiast Tony Stark offers him a job drawing Iron Man.

But Tony Stark has no idea that Steve Rogers is really Captain America, the newest member of the Avengers.

And Iron Man has no idea that Captain America is really Steve Rogers, up-and-coming comic book artist.

And Steve doesn't know what to do about the fact that he's falling head over heels for them both.

♡ Engaging the Enemy by tsukinofaerii - T | 22,823 words

Iron Man is one of the more persistent villains that the Ultimates face, with a special fondness for one Captain America. As Steve starts to findout more and more about him, the lines between hero and villain begin to blur. Sometimes, you don't have to be on the right side of the law to be in the right.

even if the brain has forgotten, perhaps the teeth remember (or the fingers) by theappleppielifestyle - G | 8,906 words

Tony gets temporary amnesia.

Some things are clearer without his preconceptions dragging him down.

♡ Even My Phone Misses Your Call by rainbowninja167 - E | 10,869 words

Steve makes it all the way to Ohio before conceding that the post-Chitauri road trip might’ve been a mistake.

Or, ten times Steve has to call Tony to come pick him up.

Even Tony Can't Resist Puppy Love by Wordsplat - T | 7,766 words

In which there is a dinner bet, a com line confession, and, as usual, Loki's magical hijinks make Tony's life unnecessarily difficult.

Fairy Godmother by Amuly - T | 5,186 words

Auntie Peggy has been telling Tony stories about Captain America his whole life. Only problem is, the real thing just about measures up to the stories. Which means, of course, that Aunt Peg has to go to work, because an Aunt's work is never done.

Favorable Winds by RurouniHime - T | 2,056 words

Steve’s voice comes from behind, a sigh and a thump as his own pack hits the floor. “Sam. Meet Tony Stark.”

Follow in Your Footsteps by Sineala - T | 6,788 words

When Tony is twelve, his soulmate's name appears on his wrist. Unfortunately, it's hard to find out anything at all about Steve Rogers.

It turns out there's a reason for that.

Formerly by laireshi - T | 13,620 words

A week ago, he touched Steve at night. A week ago, he kissed him. A week ago, Steve kissed him back.

(A week ago Steve was dead, and Tony deleted his brain.)

The Foodieverse (series) by copperbadge, scifigrl47 - works G-T | 130,326 words in series

It's an AU where everyone works in the food industry. That makes total sense and is definitely not wildly irrational on any axis.

♡ Get Some Now by Sineala - T | 10,376 words

Avengers Mansion has a mysterious feline infestation. Meanwhile, Steve just can't figure out how to ask Tony out on a date. And the thirteen teleporting cats sure aren't helping matters any.

♡ Going on a Ride (series) by theappleppielifestyle - Not Rated | 14,306 words in series

"You want to take me for a ride on your motorcycle," Tony repeats, slow so he can process it as he’s saying it, "because you think my glasses are cute."

Hashtag Finally by Wordsplat - T | 15,208 words

Tony doesn't ever actually ask the Avengers to move into his house, steal his wifi, eat all his food, and become the best family he's ever known. They do it anyway.

How To Be a Truly Terrible Wingman by Wordsplat - M | 11,721 words

Prompt: "We were both playing wingman for our friends who have now decided to go home together, and after five minutes of conversation we fucking hate each other. Let’s bang it out."

♡ How To Excel At Supervillainy (and lose your heart to America) by Zekkass - E | 13,531 words

And that's how Tony's supervillainy hobby got way way way complicated.

♡ How to Lose a Super Soldier in One Easy Step by and_backagain, jibrailis - E | 18,248 words

Rogers jerks backwards, shock registering on his face, and Tony thinks, welcome back to the land of the living, Cap, looks like you're sticking around.

Or, a Pushing Daisies AU.

♡ I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you by Mizzy - T | 62,917 words

Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.

This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man. Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain

Indecent Proposal by gyzym, Siria - T | 2,592 words

On the plus side, marriage is bound to be easier than proposing.

i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic - M | 6,007 words

Where it was Nick Fury's idea, but he didn't mean it like that

♡ In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury) (series) by scifigrl47 - works rated T-M | 343,010 words

Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound. The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick.

And some things shouldn't be a chore.

♡ i will never stop losing my breath (every time i see you looking back at me) by theappleppielifestyle - G | 3,222 words

In all fairness, Tony is on autopilot when this happens. He’s had a long, hard day, and it’s possible he hasn’t slept in several long, hard days. He’s already half-asleep on the couch and he’s relaxed and happy, which is a rarity on its’ own, and he’s comfortable enough to let his guard down and get his body to do all the work without switching his brain on.

That should’ve been enough of a warning sign, but apparently not: Tony stretches, says goodnight to his teammates and gets varied responses back, and then he kisses Steve.

He only realizes what he’s done after he’s started to lean back, opening his eyes to see Steve’s blown wide, staring at Tony with his lips gone slack and a tiny furrow between his eyebrows.

if they be worthy by theappleppielifestyle - Not Rated | 824 words

Everyone's staring, and Tony isn't awake enough to do anything but gape dumbly at the hammer in his hand."Huh," he says."Seconded," Steve says through his toast. "Tasha, go tell Coulson another one of us can pick it up."

♡ Last Train Home by erde - T | 10,983 words

Steve writes letters to Tony that he never sends. By the time he hands them to their rightful owner, Tony has had a brush with death, has retired as a superhero, and now has a small town workshop of his very own. But it's okay, Steve has gone into retirement too.

Like Gene Kelly in the Movies by lyra_wing - M | 11,449 words

Everything Tony Stark does is a dance. And it's super confusing for Steve.

Like Sunlight by sara_holmes - M | 8,309 words

Steve is used to the way it feels by now; a strange but gentle tugging connection under his sternum, warm tingles in his skin whenever they touch. That is, until Tony gets himself kidnapped. Then it kinda feels more like someone is trying to wrench his heart out through his ribcage.

Looking for Heaven by foxxcub - E | 31,950 words

When young Lord Anthony Stark learns Steven Rogers has enlisted in the army, he thinks he's seen the last of his tiny, headstrong, haughty stable boy. But four years later, Lord Stark gets an unexpected visit from Steve, whose mother has fallen gravely ill and into financial ruin. Even more unexpected, Steve agrees to a shocking proposal: they will marry, giving Steve the necessary funds to save his mother, and Tony the much-needed reprieve from harassing would-be suitors. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. But as time goes on and circumstances arise, Tony begins to learn that keeping his heart away from his husband is easier said than done.

♡ Love in a Time of Amnesia by Amuly - T | 6,241 words

Carol might have lost all her memories of her friends, but there's at least one thing she can know with absolute certainty: Steve and Tony are a couple. And if the rest of the Avengers insist on saying they're not, well: Carol will just have to put her amnesia to use, for the greater good.

♡ L☆VE by copperbadge - M | 3,773 words

Steve's favorite shirt is at the center of a debate about masculinity, sexuality, and whether or not he did in fact steal it like a thief in the night from Tony.

♡ Meet Your Heroes by Wordsplat - M | 4,130 words

Tony gets rescued by a highly concerned, very handsy Captain America. This is confusing for a number of reasons.

Momentary Paws (or, DO NOT WANT) by velithya - T | 16,834 words

WTF KITTEN

♡ Mr. July by jibrailis - E | 10,065 words

Tony is the only one who can defend Steve's virtue. Tony hates his life.

♡ Neanderthals In Tights (Also Known As a Football Game) by Wordsplat - T | 3,228 words

In which Tony supports Steve at his first big football game, with guest appearances by an exasperated Pepper and an embarrassed Bruce, because yeah, okay, maybe Tony's not really one hundred percent clear on the rules of this game. Why, exactly, are a bunch of neanderthals tackling his boyfriend again?

one hundred percent skill, fifty percent luck by kellifer_fic - T | 7,418 words

Where there is a poker game, a v-card and general misunderstandings

Orbiter Dictum by schmevil - T | 7,357 words

Steve is at the sink, washing the few dishes that pizza for two generates, when he realizes that Tony is in love with him.

Our Weight In Gold by ann2who - E | 33,607 words

It was every cliché he’d ever heard about. Every sappy thing they wrote down in the magazines, every single thing he had always hated about the myth. It was as though he had experienced life without sight, and was suddenly bombarded by a storm of color. It was all-consuming, and rushing through his veins like molten lava, like his whole existence was suddenly filled with sunlight. A door opened, and a myriad of emotions stormed through his body: confusion, disbelief, loneliness, and so much fierce determination that it almost knocked Tony off his feet. And he understood then, understood that these emotions weren’t his. They were Rogers’.

This is a story about fate, self-doubt, choice and eventually—love.

Over Sea, Under Stars by vorkosigan - T | 36,651 words

Tony gets the phone, but he never uses it and he never intends to. Or, he doesn’t until Steve starts texting him, asking strange questions about medication and mental health, which is when Tony gets worried.

♡ Phil Coulson's Case Files of the Toasterverse - works rated mostly G-T, | 287,890 words in series

Short stories from the Toasterverse

Place Your Bets by RurouniHime - M | 35,999 words

Steve Rogers may or may not have just picked up a prostitute. This may or may not be Tony Stark’s fault.

♡ Pulse, Beat, and Measure (series) by Sineala - E | 134,095 words in series

Two men. Two worlds. Life during wartime.

Ready, Fire, Aim (series) by gyzym - M | 63,019 words in series

There's no "I" in "Avenger."

♡ Relativistic Heat Conduction (series) by BlossomsintheMist - E | 70,484 words in series

Age of Ultron-based, but not entirely canon compliant. Written for the 2013 Cap-Iron Man Reverse Big Bang. Ultron has attacked, obliterating most of the world's superheroes and resistance in a matter of hours. The remaining heroes band together and share what strength they have to get through it, to survive, and defeat Ultron once and for all. Steve Rogers grieves in the wake of the disaster and the heroes' defeat, and no one knows if he will be able to provide the leadership they need--but Tony Stark isn't about to let him slip away that easily.

♡ Rom-Commed By Fate (Or JARVIS) by leashy_bebes - E | 14,387 words

The best thing about being an Artificial Intelligence is the ability to parse, filter and modify the things people say until you've got the cause to do exactly what you wanted in the first place. Or, in which JARVIS cock blocks Tony into having an actual relationship.

♡ Run Program: {x} by Amuly - M | 19,728 words

Taking care of Tony is a lot of work. Especially when you’ve only got one arm. And your code dates back to the 1980s.

♡ Secrets of a Successful Marriage by valtyr - E | 24,118 words

Tony Stark lives a double life; he's secretly the supervillain known as Iron Man. But his loving husband Steve has a few secrets of his own, as Tony is about to discover.

♡ SexyMechanic70 by Potrix - T | 2,449 words

“SexyMechanic70,” Natasha reads aloud, nodding approvingly.“Sounds promising,” Clint offers.“And look,” Bucky adds, “he didn’t even send a dick pic! And he praised your sketch which, by the way, is a totally lame icon choice.”Steve snatches his phone back, batting Bucky’s hands away when he struggles to reach for it again. “Cut it out,” he grouses. “Also, excuse me for not posting a picture of my abs.”“A true tragedy,” Sam sighs, earning himself an indignant squawk from Bucky and a betrayed look from Steve. “What? I’m just saying. They’re great abs.”“True,” Nat hums and bumps the fist Clint is holding out to her.

♡ Sixpence In His Shoe by scifigrl47 - M | 103,682 words

Steve and Tony should really read the fine print on what they're signing. Then again, some mistakes are not really mistakes.

♡ Soul Bomb by copperbadge - T | 1,944 words

Suddenly everyone in Manhattan has someone else's voice in their head. Tony got Steve's, for his sins.

♡ Stand Back, I'm Going To Try Science by Good_News_Everyone - T | 2,123 words

Soulmates are a rare and cherished thing, a simple touch of hands bringing love that lasts forever. By all the rules of romance, they're meant to wait for each other and to trust in the vagaries of fate to bring them together. Tony's never been good at waiting, and when he has science on his side, who needs fate?

♡ Start as You Mean to Go On by BlackEyedGirl - E | 2,612 words

Tony gets that the others think this is an ego thing - the way he can’t resist pushing Steve’s buttons. Honest-to-God, the guy just bugs him. Mostly because Steve is distractingly perfect, but a little bit because of the family history.

♡ Steve Rogers Is (Not) A Morning Person by theappleppielifestyle - Not Rated | 1,161 words

Dream, Steve decides. With that comforting knowledge, Steve takes Tony's face in his hands and kisses him.

(Spoilers: it isn't a dream.)

Steve Rogers Takes Offense and the World Gets Schooled by RurouniHime - T | 2,463 words

In which Steve has no idea how that got up on BuzzFeed (aka, because some people don't respond to anything but the direct approach.)

♡ Syzygy (a Kludged Together remix) by Mizzy - T | 20,198 words

When Tony Stark cut Steve Rogers' morning jog short to join him on a reconnaissance mission off the East Coast, Tony sure wasn’t expecting to end up stuck on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, Steve's hand knuckle-deep in his chest.

♡ Tales of the Bots by scifigrl47 (series) - most works rated M | 523,654 words

When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

The Best Policy by cylobaby27 - M | 22,724 words

Tony Stark breezes through life on bluster and bullshit. When he gets hit by a truth spell, he locks himself away in his workshop so he can find a way to reverse it without anyone finding out. So why can't he say no when Steve keeps asking to spend time with him?

♡ the family you choose by theappleppielifestyle - Not Rated | 7,385 words

“Just who exactly was my son making out with in a closet?”

“Tony Stark.”Huh.“You might know him,” Fury continues, and Sarah nods, furiously biting at her cheek so she doesn’t do something awful, like giggle.

♡ The Forever-Nighter by Wordsplat - T | 10,172 words

When Rhodey decides that Tony's been slacking lately and drags him along to the gym, Tony's fully prepared to duck right back out the door the first time Rhodey turns around. Then he sees Hot Blond Guy.

♡ The Last Love Song of Anthony E. Stark by jibrailis - M | 42,327 words

After contracting an Asgardian virus, Tony starts forgetting things. And people. And Steve.

♡ The Opposite of a Problem by Sineala - T | 2,490 words

"I promise to love, honor, and probably not obey you, and, uh, take you as my totally-unlawfully-wedded husband, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do us part, or for at least the next seventy-two hours."

(Or: Tony and Steve get fake-married for the sake of the mission.)

♡ The Tchotchke Cha Cha by Arukou - T | 7,269 words

What started off as one impulse buy souvenir snowballs into a constant flow of knickknacks from all over the world, and Steve is starting to wonder if it's more than just Tony being nice.

♡ The Twice-Told Tale by arysteia - E | 15,789 words

For someone he'd hero-worshipped for so long, Steve Rogers in the flesh is a pretty big disappointment. For one thing, he keeps looking at Tony as though he reminds him of someone else, and even if he never says anything, Tony's pretty sure it's his father. A lifetime of not measuring up to Howard's expectations is more than enough, thank you very much, and he's certainly not going to make an effort to live up to any of Steve's. Steve's pretty clearly failed to live up to his expectations, in any case, and that's not hypocritical at all.

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by Sineala - T | 35,216 words

No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

♡ Toasted Buns by copperbadge, scifigrl47 - E | 47,044 words

After seeing Tony naked and tanned -- all over -- in a decontamination shower, Steve realizes he may be in trouble. Tony, meanwhile, is definitely in trouble over those tabloid pictures of him sunbathing nude. The solution is clearly a tropical island getaway.

♡ Tony Stark Falls In Love With A Cat by shellhead - M | 6,887 words

When Steve goes missing, Tony ends up finding him at an animal shelter. Volunteering.

♡ Tony Stark and the Super Sleeper, or actually, Soldier by RurouniHime - T | 8,571 words

The one where Steve keeps falling asleep on Tony.

♡ Tony Stark Takes a Liberty and the Universe Thanks Him by RurouniHime - T | 1,512 words

In which people think they are entitled to Steve Roger's face (aka, because tomorrow is coming, and I hold out hope, Supreme Court.)

♡ Toy Soldiers by copperbadge - E | 44,241

When Steve Rogers, five foot four and a hundred and ten pounds, met Tony Stark in a bar, he didn't expect it to lead to a relationship. Or that Tony would find out he's not an art student during a SHIELD rescue mission in Afghanistan.

♡ Truth by valtyr - E | 2,677 words

Captain America takes truth serum. Tony is all over that.

♡ Two Out of Three (Ain't Bad) by plingo_kat - T | 9,449 words

It blindsides him one morning in the middle of his customary third cup of coffee; Steve walks through the door in loose cotton pants, shirt pulled up to wipe the sweat off his face from his usual morning workout, and Tony thinks: adorable.

♡ Unveil My Unsightly Heart by Mizzy - M | 43,019 words

Looking over an old prototype helicarrier for its future viability as a base for the Avengers should have just been a routine day full of bickering and non-adventure for Steve Rogers and Tony Stark.

But when they're catapulted into an alternate universe – where their alternate selves are married and battling with a mysterious threat – the two are forced to get over their differences in order to figure out what's going on, before it's too late.

Because there's more going on than meets the eye, and Steve and Tony falling in love might just be the most dangerous thing that can happen. Not just for one universe, but for all of them…

Wait & Sea by Lenalena - E | 53,244 words

In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Wash It All Away by ann2who - E | 8,634 words

Steve hummed, looking up at him. “All right. Strip.” Tony blinked at him. “Excuse me?” “Can’t very well wash your clothes while you wear ‘em,” he said and held out a hand expectantly.

What You Don't Know by Sineala - E | 9,808 words

In 1941, two strangers meet in a bar. And then Captain America meets Iron Man. And then Steve Rogers meets Tony Stark. They get it right. Eventually. And also they fall out of an airplane.

♡ when i run out of road, you bring me home by quidhitch - M | 18,466 words

“Oh, I won’t bother you.” The tone of Steve’s voice implies that he definitely will be bothering Tony, aggressively and frequently. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll keep to my farm, you keep to yours. Solitude together.”

Tony opens his mouth to argue that that’s not how this works, but he snaps it shut at the realization that Steven Grant Rogers is fucking with him. That twinkle in his eye has accelerated into a full-on glimmer, and the ends of his lips are twitching. Jesus, he hates this man. Or maybe he wishes he did. Tony can’t really tell the difference anymore.

♡ When I think about you by sirona - E | 11,955

Five times someone saw Steve sass the hell out of Tony and one time Tony finally bought a clue. Also known as the story of Captain Sasspants more than handling his own with Tony Stark at his most devious.

♡ When I Think (Oh, it Terrifies Me) by celli - E | 8,641 words

Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America's voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things.

♡ will we ever say the words we're feeling by theappleppielifestyle - Not Rated | 1,673 words

He breaks off then, the realization of what he’s just revealed finally hitting him, and he stops, and Tony’s still staring.

(Or, Steve and Tony argue and Steve lets something slip.)

♡ With Words Other Than These by RurouniHime - E | 14,690 words

The way Steve’s beating that bag, though—Tony traces the cadence as well as the lines of Steve’s body, and wonders if he might not need to know about the mission after all. There’s a lot of tension knotted in Steve’s shoulders, a frenzy to each punch. The precision lacks. Maybe Steve’s just getting started, and if that’s the case, Tony could be here a long, long while.

with you by laireshi - M | 3,108 words

Sometimes Steve gets overwhelmed by how much he loves Tony.

Your Name on Every Wall by Sineala - T | 17,863 words

The Time Gem throws Steve into the past rather than the future, and in doing so, it gives him the opportunity to undo his past mistakes. But when it turns out that all of his mistakes involve Tony Stark, Steve begins to wonder if he's ever going to be able to mend things between them.

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Hey, the list did have to end at some point! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed these recs!

Tagging some people who might be interested:

@divine529, @sabrecmcstonyficrecs, @sineala, @ishipallthings, @itsallavengers, @nasafic, @estebanrxgers, @starksnstripes, @goodmorningbeloved, @goose-danvers

#stevetony #stony #stony fic rec #stevetony fic rec #stevetony rec list #stony rec list #superhusbands #my fic recs #fic rec

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