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everwitch-magiks · 3 years

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RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

#First prince #FirstPrince #red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont-diaz #Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor #evie writes #fanfiction

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

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A family reunited

Summary: Shelby family dinners always bring some drama with them...but none of the brothers expected their sister, Y/N, to join them. After all, she had been missing for 5 years.

Word Count: 3147

A/N: First time writing a fic with a word count over 3000, baby!!! All of the brothers are actually in this but, let’s be honest, Tommy always gets more attention in my writing than anyone else. Let me know what you think of this one, and enjoy!

Part 2

Sometimes you can be better off not knowing the truth. Because the knowing the truth can make your worst nightmares an inescapable reality. A reality that can bring everything crashing down around you.

And that's how the Shelby clan felt about knowing the fate of their sister, Y/N.

Y/N Shelby was 23 when the war began, one year Tommy's junior. Before her brothers left for France, she left them with the promise of having their Mother's favourite sponge cake waiting on the table for them when they got back. She would have to save her money and actually figure out how to make it, but Y/N swore that she'd do it (somehow, even if it did turn out to be an atrocity).

But when the boys stepped through the door of the Shelby residence again in 1918, there was no cake waiting for them. It had been four years, they reasoned, maybe she'd forgotten. Even that didn't seem to sit right with the brothers, however - Y/N always kept her promises, no matter when they were made.

It was like a dark cloud was looming over the house, but none of them could see what had caused it. Something wasn't right at number 6 Watery Lane.

After embracing Polly and Ada, who had tears flowing down their faces at the mere sight of them, Tommy immediately asked where Y/N was. Their silence had told him everything. Not waiting for an explanation, Tommy stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

It was no secret that Y/N and Tommy shared a close bond; they always had each other's backs and always made time for each other. Despite there only being one year between them, Tommy was especially protective over Y/N, as he didn't want anything to happen that might risk her leaving him alone. He couldn't cope without her, for Y/N was both his rock and his light, even though she carried her own darkness with her.

It was dusk when Tommy finally returned, wanting answers. Polly simply presented him with the letter that had been left for herself and Ada on the night that Y/N vanished, for that was all she knew. It said that she had to go away for a while, to not tell Tommy, John or Arthur as she didn't want to worry them, and that she'd be back home as soon as she could. The letter was dated back to 1916. Two years ago. And no one had heard anything from her since.

Tommy refused to look up at his family after reading the letter over and over again, not wanting them to see the tears that glazed his cold blue eyes. He grabbed his bag (effectively hiding the shaking that had taken over his hands) and mumbled something about going to unpack, before retreating straight up to his bedroom, actively avoiding the pitiful looks being sent his way.

The only other time the family saw Tommy that night was when he walked through the parlour and back out of the front door again. They assumed that he was going down to Charlie's yard, where Y/N and Tommy always went together to talk. It was their special place, for they both possessed a deep-rooted love for horses and always found themselves wandering back to their Gypsy roots. When they were both younger, the siblings would be out for days on end riding in the open air. What a distant memory that was now.

According to their uncle, Tommy didn't leave the yard until the sun was fully risen the next morning.

***

Y/N Shelby had been well known to the Birmingham Police from a young age: she had a, quite frankly, remarkable ability to escape the officers no matter how tight of a spot she had managed to get herself into. She was a listener, and had an impressive memory for information that could be of use at some point in the future. Her brain, in combination with her physical abilities to slip away from or outrun trouble, made her an absolute nightmare for the coppers of Small Heath.

She built up such an impressive reputation that, during the war, she had been asked to put her talents to good use. Y/N was recruited as a spy by British Intelligence, and went undercover in Germany to retrieve vital information which ultimately helped the Allies to win the war.

It was an opportunity that she would never have been able to resist. Her brothers had always treated her as an equal when it came to the family business (although Tommy was sometimes unwilling for her to take part in certain activities); it had annoyed her immensely when they went away to fight and she couldn't do anything to help.

(She had tried to become a nurse with Ada, but was also kicked out because she couldn't stop laughing when her sister had started laughing).

But this was her way around it and, as far as she was aware at the time, her brothers would never have to know about her dangerous escapades.

However, not even Y/N Shelby was the perfect criminal or spy. In the March of 1918, she had been on the verge of completing her latest mission when the plan had gone awry. Instead of using her limited time to escape, she had ensured that the information she had gained was communicated properly to her associate. This decision left her with an open police case in Germany, and Y/N was forced to go into hiding.

As that fact hit her, only one word came to mind: shit.

***

For a year after returning home Tommy searched for Y/N, and turned up nothing. She seemed to have disappeared without a trace. His desperation fuelled his ambition: Tommy wanted to make it big, not just for money but for status and connections. This, he hoped, would provide the opportunities to dig deeper and give him access to speak to the right people, so that he could find out where his younger sister was.

Because despite the slight shadows that lurked in the back of his mind, he clutched onto his conviction that Y/N was still alive somewhere. He didn't believe in much these days, but he would always believe in his sister.

But in 1920, even Tommy was starting to have his doubts, though he refused to admit them or accept them. His search was beginning to become futile and none of his fucking contacts had been able to turn up everything.

And so Tommy began to spiral further and further downwards, for Y/N wasn't there to stop it and he didn't have the strength to do it alone.

By the time 1921 had rolled around, the family had pretty much given up all hope that their sister was still alive. However, none of them wanted to be told that harsh truth. What they didn't realise, though, was that it couldn't be further from the truth.

***

Polly Gray wasn't a woman to be easily shocked. She had seen and done too much in her time for that.

Having been settled in her new house (courtesy of Thomas) for a few weeks now, she knew exactly who had her new address – she had only given it to the people that she actually wanted to hear from and knew that they weren't a threat. So, when she didn't immediately recognise the writing on the front of an envelope, worry took over her. However, upon closer inspection of the handwriting, she stopped. Polly knew that writing, but she couldn't believe what she was seeing. She ripped the envelope open, and what was contained in that letter shocked her more than anything that had happened over the last three years:

Polly,

DO NOT SHOW THIS LETTER TO ANYONE OR TELL ANYONE ABOUT WHAT IT CONTAINS. It's not sensitive or anything, I just want to keep it a surprise. A secret between us girls, just like the old days (I've written to Ada as well).

As you can probably tell, it's Y/N, and I'm alive and well. I'll explain more when I get home - I'm on my way back to Birmingham now.

By the time you get this, I'll be arriving in two days' time. I'll come to the address that I posted this to, I know that's your fancy new home. Then, how about we organise a little family get together? You know I've always been one for the dramatics (although I promise me disappearing off for 5 years wasn't completely intentional).

I can't wait to see you again soon; I've missed you all so much.

All my love,

Y/N Shelby xxx

(P.S. in case you don't believe that I am who I say I am, I've enclosed my Mother's necklace that Tommy gave to me on my 16th birthday, to prove my identity.)

And there the necklace was, sat at the bottom of the envelope. Silent tears began to roll down Polly's face and a smile, as big as the day that Michael returned to her, brightened her features.

Y/N Shelby was coming home. And, boy, were those two going to have some fun telling her brothers...

***

The day that the 30-year-old turned up on Polly's doorstep was a blur of tears, hugs and gin.

Y/N had been introduced to Michael, who they couldn't really avoid because he lived there, but who was more than happy to keep their secret. Just being with Polly again made her realise that she was finally home.

Whilst Y/N already knew a lot about what had happened since she left, having kept tabs on the family through her various contacts while she was away, the next day Polly helped to fill in some of the gaps in her knowledge. Polly also told her about how torn up Tommy still was about her absence, and it was enough to nearly send Y/N running straight to him. But then her aunt reasoned that it was probably better for Thomas to pass out in shock in her home, where they could set up lots of cushions as a crash pad, as oppose to on the hard streets of Birmingham.

And so the planning commenced. It was decided that Polly would host a dinner for the whole family, telling everyone that she needed to put her new house to good use, and that they could combine it with a proper welcome for Michael.

As the day drew nearer, Y/N could feel butterflies in her stomach constantly. Her excitement at seeing her whole family again was almost overwhelming. Yet she dreaded having to tell them all the truth about her prolonged disappearance.

But, honestly, the excitement won over her nerves every time.

***

When Y/N heard her brothers' voices booming through the house, she had never been more grateful that she was running late in getting ready (as usual) and didn't have her makeup on yet. She hadn't been able to stop the tears falling from her blue eyes as the familiar sounds of her family's squabbling travelled up the stairs like music to her ears.

Everything was ready for the night that she had dreamed of for nearly three full years.

Fuck, I'm still in my pyjamas, Y/N realised, and hurried about getting ready.

Having memorised where the creaky steps were earlier that day, Y/N creeped down the stairs silently, clad in the most gorgeous midnight blue dress that she had ever seen. When she looked in the mirror, with her makeup on and hair done, she had realised how much she had grown up since she last saw her family.

But she had no time to think about that now, for it was nearly her moment.

Lingering in the doorway with a glass of champagne, and sending Polly a wink, she felt her heart rate shoot up as her aunt stood up with her own glass.

"Now, before we have dessert, I'd like to make a toast." She paused, looking around the table, her own happiness threatening to overflow. "To family."

"To family!" The brothers and Michael chorused.

Stepping into the light and leaning against the doorframe, completely unnoticed by her siblings, Y/N waited until the noise had died down before gently repeating the toast: "To family."

***

It felt like time had stood still.

Arthur, John and Finn's heads whipped around to see where the voice came from. Tommy had frozen completely, tensing up as he heard his sister's voice for the first time in seven years.

"Y/N/N?" Arthur whispered, not believing his eyes.

"Hello boys," Y/N said with a smile and a teasing glint in her eye. "Did you miss me?"

John stood up slowly and made his way towards her, and Y/N stretched her hand out towards him after putting her glass down. Her little brother tentatively placed his hand in hers, and she squeezed it, reassuring him that she was really there. She saw a couple of tears form in his eyes, though he refused to let them fall. John started to laugh, wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted Y/N up, spinning her in circles and hugging her tightly. Still laughing, he exclaimed "Oh my fucking God!" and placed her down on the ground.

Y/N was next almost knocked flying with a hug from Finn, who buried his head into the crook of her neck as he cried silently. "Look at you, eh! Almost as big as me now, aren't you?" Y/N placed a soft kiss on the top of her youngest brother's head and rubbed his back soothingly. Over Finn's shoulder, she saw Arthur approaching her, seemingly lost for words. His hand cupped her cheek as he ran his thumb over it, before finally saying "Now what sort of time do you call this, young lady?" Y/N collapsed into giggles as Arthur placed a rough kiss to her forehead.

As Finn and Arthur pulled away, Y/N's eyes found the only brother who hadn't yet greeted her and who she was the most anxious to see. Tommy still hadn't moved, his eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of him, but Y/N could tell that they were cold.

"Tom?"

There was silence. After what felt to Y/N like a lifetime, Tommy spoke quietly and slowly. "I don't want to look up and find that you're not really here. That this is all in my head. I don't think I could bear it." His voice cracked slightly as he uttered the last sentence and, for the first time since the war, the family saw their brother's vulnerability as clear as day. It was a stark contrast to the Tommy Shelby that they'd gotten so used to being around.

Y/N cautiously walked over to her beloved elder brother, as if he were a spooked horse, and lowered herself into the seat beside him. She observed his eyes flit over to her as the chair creaked, so quickly that if she had blinked at the wrong moment she would have missed it. She smiled gently at Tommy. "Well I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with me for a while now, Tom, so you'd better start getting used to having me around again."

As Y/N gently placed her hand on top of his, Tommy's entire body relaxed and at the same time something ignited in him. He felt alive for the first time since the war, and yet so at peace at the same time.

Suddenly, Tommy grabbed her hand in his, pulled Y/N to her feet with him and brought her into a bone-crushing hug. A thousand emotions and lost words were communicated in that one embrace, in that one moment, even. Tommy clung to his sister like she would vanish again if he loosened his grip. It was only when she whispered "I'm here now, Tom" in his ear as he stroked her hair that he relinquished his hold on her.

Tommy pulled away only slightly from Y/N and held her face gently in his hands. "My sweet girl," he breathed, a small smile gracing his lips. Y/N brought her hand up to his and held it there, the sibling simply enjoying the moment of being together again, tear tracks staining both of their faces.

The silence was broken by Arthur, who gruffly announced: "I need another fucking drink." The whole family started to laugh, the reality of the event finally sinking in.

"Yeah, you pour us all another drink, Artie, while I go and get your pudding." Y/N skipped towards the door.

"Y/N/N we don't fucking care about pudding now, you dick, just get back here now," John shouted after her.

"Bloody hell, no need to shout, John boy, I'm only going round the corner." She leaned around the doorframe, making sure to keep one hand on it to reassure Tommy. "Anyway," Y/N continued, "I've got to give you three your coming home present!"

"Our coming home present?" Arthur chortled.

"Yes," Y/N replied, matter-of-factly. "I believed I promised you lot cake" and she entered holding a cake exactly like their Mother used to make.

The three eldest brothers simply smiled fondly at their sister, shaking their heads.

***

An hour later, the family were all crowded into Polly's living room, having consumed the entire dessert. The gramophone was gently playing music in the background, as no one had bothered to take the record off once Arthur and John had finished dancing with their sister (they had claimed that they needed their toes stepping on to bring them back to reality).

The Shelbys and Grays spent some rare time together as a family that evening. No fighting, no arguing, no business: just talking and reminiscing and laughing.

But now the night was drawing to a close. Finn had fallen asleep, the overwhelming emotions of the evening having finally caught up to him. Arthur and John were drunkenly singing in the corner of the room, yet they occasionally looked over at their sister, wanting to check that she was still there. Tommy simply felt complete again. For once his silence did not come from an attempt to conceal his true emotions, there was no point in trying that again tonight; he was just cherishing the moment, wanting it to last forever.

As for Y/N herself, she couldn't remember ever feeling so content before. She felt like she was on cloud nine, curled up to Tommy's side as they sat on the sofa together, watching the flames dance around in the hearth. His arm was around her shoulders, holding her close to him, and every now and again Y/N felt him place a soft kiss on the top of her head.

She knew that she had a lot of explaining to do. But that could wait until the morning. For now, they were a family reunited, and none of them could wish for anything more.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #shelby sister #shelby sis #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #polly gray

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

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Hope you'll write more Lucian/10th Doctor, they're fun!

Here's a little something of them for you, anon!

I also got another ask, wanting some hurt/comfort with a ship of my choice, so I'm mixing these two asks together for that.

On with the fic!

"Sir?" Said one of the guards around the outside of Castle Corvinus, catching Lucian's attention.

"Yes, what is it?" He asked, really not in the mood for anything tonight, it was just one of those sort of evenings and he would rather be alone.

"We found someone trying to break in, he claims to know you."

This brought Lucian pause. "What does he look like? Did he say his name?"

"He looks human, doesn't... smell quite right. He's dressed strangely as well, and claims to be called the Doctor? Do you know anything about that?"

Lucian nodded and moved past the guard, heading for the gates, he was sure that his unexpected guest was probably there. And yes, he was, being help by two lycan soldiers, struggling to get out of their grip.

The Doctor stopped his struggling when he spotted Lucian and seemed to get very excited. "Lucian! Hey! Can you tell your friends to let me go, I think I'm gonna end up with some bruises, and I bruise like a banana!"

Lucian looked at the two men and nodded. "Let him go, he's a friend of mine, he's alright."

They released the Doctor, who stumbled, almost falling on his face. He pouted, dusting himself off, before turning to the lycan leader. "I probably should have sent word first, yes?"

"I think that would have been your best option." Lucian said, a bit amused. He motioned for the Doctor to follow him into the courtyard, the man following close to him. "What brings you here? Last I saw of you, it was when we were preparing for the invasion."

That had been a very unexpected visit, being pulled aside by the Doctor and warned to watch his back, to be careful, and that he should still keep his guard up, even after everything is said and done. The Doctor always spoke like that, like he knew something before it would happen.

"Came to check on you, see how you were doing! It's been... three years?" He licked his lips. "Yep, three years, five months, four days."

"How do you do that?" Lucian chuckled.

"I have my ways." The Doctor grinned, gently bumping Lucian with his shoulder before they walked over to where Lucian's work station was. It still stood, intact, and clearly was still being used since there was a fire still burning.

"You still make your own weapons." He commented, taking a seat on a chair set up inside as Lucian pulled curtains around them, preventing others from looking in. As if any of his pack would bother him, they knew better, but it didn't hurt to have some privacy in his work station.

"I enjoy it, doing work for myself rather than for the vampires." Lucian said before standing before the Doctor. "It gives me something to do."

"I understand that, I like to keep busy too." The man replied before tugging on the ends of Lucian's vest, a request.

He was more than happy to respond with what the Doctor silently asked for. He leaned down, kissing the strange man gently. He felt a tongue lick against his lips, hands going for his hair, tangling long fingers in thick locks, while Lucian gripped onto the Doctor's arms, desperate for this.

It... it still hurt, what happened just years ago, but there was one lover left, one who was safe. Sonja was not forgotten, not at all, she was still so very much alive in his heart, and in Lucian's ambitions to do what they has wanted, to unite their species.

His heart still weeps for her, every day, but there was the Doctor, the strange man who had also made a place in his heart. He could never understand it, it was almost like he had grown up with this man as well as her, even though the Doctor never aged, never changed.

"Lucian..." The Doctor pulled back, touching his cheeks. "You're crying."

"I'm sorry..." Lucian sighed and the Doctor kissed his forehead.

"No, I get it, I... I know how much it hurts to lose someone who means so much to you. I can never have..." The Doctor stopped, there was such an ache in his voice. "She's gone too, but we have each other."

"You'll leave again."

"I always come back."

"Why can't you stay?"

"Because I'll hurt you worse if I stay, and you have so much you have in your life to do, but I'll always be there." He pulled Lucian close, running his hand up and down the lycan's back.

Lucian sighed, closing his eyes. He hated to cry, especially in front of others, but he was alone with the Doctor, and he trusted this man so much, only he could see this moment of rawness.

"Let me come with you." He said softly by the Doctor's ear. "Let me travel with you."

"You wouldn't like it." The Doctor said as softly. "You need to be with your pack."

"One trip. You always talk about how you'd like to show me places, show me how you travel the world, the stars."

There was a small laugh from the other man, and he held Lucian closer. "I will, I know I will, but right now, you need to take care of your people."

He kissed the side of Lucian's head. "I'll let you know when I can show you the stars."

"I'll be waiting." Lucian replied as he pulled back, rubbing at his face.

The Doctor smiled at him. "I know. So!" He slapped at his thighs. "Distraction! Care to let me try using your blacksmith equipment?"

"As long as you don't make something explode again."

"It was once! Once! And it wasn't even here, I told you, I tried it on a star!"

#john's drabbles #good omens extended universe #lucian x tenth doctor

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fweasleyswhore · 4 years

Note

Can I request a headcannon or fic (idc whichever one you'd have more fun writing) with a slytherin reader who is completely obliviousto the fact that Fred is in love with her and George painfullyhas to watch this all

a/n: so I did headcannon because I felt like it worked better, this was so cute omg

You always liked Fred more than other people.

You met on the train when you were trying to find a compartment.

“Wanna sit with us?” A young boy asked, his hair was fiery red and his smile was welcoming.

“Y-Yes.” you said and sat with him.

You met his brother George and you all clicked immediately.

Like literally you would not shut up the whole way there.

You watched them get sorted into Gryffindor and you hoped you would end up there.

Of course you got put into Slytherin.

You met new people, they were kind but you didn’t click with them like you did with Fred and George.

It was hard to see them after that because your different houses, you got worried that they forgot about you.

Until you sat down in potions class and almost immediately two ginger boys sat down at your table.

“We missed you!” They said unison.

After that the only thing that separated you were your houses and different class schedules.

You made time to hang out with them after class and planned study sessions in the library.

Of course that just turned into a paper airplane flying contest.

You started to sit at the Gryffindor table for meals, you refused at first because you were scared because of the house rivalry.

Everyone was welcoming.

Any one who wasn’t had was too afraid to say anything because Fred and George made a point to brag about being beaters on the Quidditch team.

Even going so far as bringing their bats to the first few meals you sat at.

In your second year they gave you the Marauders Map to use secret passage ways to get to the astronomy towers to hang out after curfew.

In your third year you used it to have sleepovers with them in the Gryffindor common room.

You helped them protect Ron, Harry and Hermione.

The trio were slow to warm up to you at first, only having interacted with Malfoy.

You were quick to teach them that Slytherin isn’t bad, having the character trait of ambition is what put a lot of the bad apples in there because they often put their goals above anything else which sometimes included being kind.

Once they did warm up to you they treated you like a big sister.

You loved it.

But you never admitted it.

Things changed in year four, every time Fred was around your hands would get sweaty and you would choke up.

You pushed the feelings down because you had been friends for so long at this point you didn’t want to ruin anything.

You got good and lying and acting cool around him.

Even when mentally you were screaming or your legs felt weak.

George noticed how you took longer to reply and started putting more effort into your appearance when it was just you three.

He didn’t say anything at first until your fifth year.

Your crush had taken over now, you felt butterflies when Fred would talk to you and thought about him when you fell asleep.

One day you zoned out staring at him in class when you felt a paper ball hit your head.

“Stop drooling over my brother” was written in George’s messy scrawl. Your face burned and you glared at him.

He never stopped teasing you either.

Not even when you put something in his drink to turn his hair green.

He did not give up, but had the decency to do it when Fred wasn’t around.

On your birthday Fred gave you a charm bracelet that had a snake and a lion on it.

You cried.

He started freaking out.

“I’m s-sorry, here I can take it back.” He tried to take it off your wrist but you wouldn’t let him, hugging him instead.

He froze and you got nervous.

He slowly hugged you back and your nerves calmed down and you felt at peace.

You stayed like that for awhile, just holding each other.

“I love it, thank you Freddie.” His cheeks got red but you assumed it was because of the nickname.

It wasn’t.

You wore the bracelet everywhere. Even slept in it.

You made sure to make it obvious to Fred, rolling up your sleeves or shaking your hand after you wrote something down so the charmes would clink together.

He adored you for it.

He started to get more touchy, just small things like putting his arm around your shoulders or grabbing you to get your attention.

It made you melt inside.

When sixth year rolled around and the Durmstrang boys were around he was extra touchy.

Holding your waist or interlacing your hands.

Every time this made you blush but you kept up your unfazed facade.

You knew why he was doing it.

You tried to act annoyed.

But failed miserably.

Attempting to scold him would cause you to stutter and grow more red.

Eventually you gave up trying.

You even found yourself reaching for his hand a few times.

“When will you two just date?” George groaned.

Your face heated up, as did Fred’s.

You both let go of each others hands.

“It’s a joke.” You breathed out.

“Yeah.” Fred said back.

George cringed watching you both put distance between each other and step away.

He was trying to help.

You found out about the Yule Ball and were ecstatic.

Until Fred asked Angelina.

You went with a guy from Slytherin.

He ditched you and ended up snogging a Ravenclaw the whole night.

You ran out of the ball crying.

You went to the astronomy tower hoping that it would make you feel better.

It didn’t.

It reminded you of the countless hours you spent up here with Fred.

George found you.

You confessed your feelings to him, told him about your date.

“I know.” He whispered back.

“I thought he liked me back.” You croaked.

“He does!” George would yell back. “I told him to ask you but he didn’t believe me when I told him you liked him back, thought I was pranking him!”

You laughed at him sadly.

“Guess it’s too late for that now.”

“It’s not.”

You didn’t believe him.

George spent the night with you in the astronomy tower, comforting you.

Fred saw you two together on the Marauder's map when he went back to his dorm.

He thought you and George were snogging.

In reality you were sobbing.

Fred avoided you after that.

He made a point to sit with Angelina and her friends instead of yours.

Eventually you found yourself back at the Slytherin table.

You avoided both of the twins, taking that as his rejection you tried to get over it.

You still hung out with George outside of classes, never saw Fred though.

One night you felt lonely and decided to go to the astronomy tower.

Fred was there.

You sat down next to him and looked at the stars.

“Why do you hate me?” You asked.

He looked at you with disbelief.

“Why did you chose my brother over me?”

It was your turn to look at him now. You mirrored his expression.

“What?!”

“I saw you two on the map up here the night of the ball, probably snogging, and you guys hang out all the time without me!” He exclaimed.

He started to get up to leave when you didn’t say anything.

“We weren’t snogging he was comforting me after I started crying because you took Angelina to the ball instead of me!” You yelled getting up.

He froze and turned around.

“What?!”

“You git you took Angelina to the ball and stopped talking to me, George hung out with me because I’m sad and you're too busy with your girlfriend.”

You were full on crying now.

He walked toward you, brushing your tears away.

“Your not dating George?”

“No! I wanted to be dating you.” You sniffled. Although you were upset his touch was comforting.

“I’m not dating Angelina.” He confessed.

You felt like you could fly.

“Then why take her?” You asked.

“Because I was afraid of asking you! I didn’t think you liked me.”

“George told you I did!” You exclaimed, you were laughing now and your tears had dried.

“I thought it was a prank.”

You brought your hand up to hold his cupping your cheek.

His eyes were flickering between yours and your mouth.

You nodded before he could even ask.

He pushed his lips against yours and you spilled every unspoken word to each other in that moment.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“Y/N I think I’m in love with you.”

“I hope so Freddie, because I know I’m in love with you.”

You spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other at the astronomy tower.

Walking into breakfast the next day you guys would hold hands.

“Finally!” George yelled. “Lee you owe me 2 galleons!”

You sat across from your friends and watched them exchange money.

Back at the Gryffindor table, back in Fred’s arms, you felt at home.

You would spend the next Christmas at the Burrow.

“I’m so glad to finally meet the girl my son talks about all the time.” Molly would say as she pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

Meeting the whole Weasley family would be met with an exclaim of ‘Finally!’ from everyone.

On Christmas Eve you and Fred sat in the living room alone in front of a fire.

Fred had one arm around you and the other was playing with your hair as you sat in his lap.

You were reading a muggle book your parents had got you, giggling to yourself every now and again.

“Oi, when did you too bloody get together.”

Ron was shocked to see you in his brothers lap, the girl he saw as an older sister and assumed Fred did too.

You and Fred would burst out laughing, having to use each other for support from falling.

“Keep your bloody secrets.” Ron would mutter running back up the stairs prompting you to laugh harder.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley headcanons #fred and george #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #weasleys wizard wheezes

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juuls · 4 years

Text

Juulna’s ‘Hold Onto Your Sanity’ Fic, Book, and Music Recs for the 2020 Dumpster Fire... Part 3!

So you just crash-landed behind enemy lines in a war you know barely anything about except that your role seems infinitesimal and insignificant, and dumped into a year, 2020, that already seems fifteen years too long.

Before you drown your sorrows in some fantastic scotch or wine coolers for days (or weeks)… I have a proposal.

That you step back from the flames, tune things out for a bit, and try to forget about the outside world for a while (but don’t forget to vote or I will be very sad at you!).

These fics are meant to take you out of your head (I’m including more plot/story-minded fics than PWP) for the next few weeks or months as the world goes to hell (even more) but of course there are some bits of solid angst in these as there is wont to be in many a fic. Check the tags, read responsibly, don’t like-don’t read, ship and let ship, and please do leave a kudos and maybe even a comment! :)

This is PART THREE.

Check out here for Part One and most of the Marvel fic recs, along with a selection of book recs too. :)

And here’s Part Two, which has the bulk of my Star Wars and Game of Thrones recs, along with Spotify playlists!

Part Three is this one here, all about the Potterverse.

(Not yet complete) Here’s Part Four, filled with even more shippy goodness from all over the Star Trek universe. So. Many. Ships. :D

(Not yet complete) Part Five is Witcher, Man From UNCLE, Stargate: Atlantis and SG-1, Sherlock, Hannibal, and Doctor Who.

(Not yet complete) Part Six will probably be all for my newfound love of Supergirl, along with some Game of Thrones and Marvel ships I skipped, because I gotta stop somewhere with all these recommendations or I’ll be at it forever. Seriously, how much of this stuff have I read!?

But I think we all need some distractions from the world these days, eh? Or something to console us other than internet rage and a barrel of ice cream and/or hard alcohol.

Potterverse

I’ve chosen to pick fics (mostly) off of AO3 for their easy reading access, though HP fics’ golden years were on sites like fanfiction.net and other independent archives like Sycophanthex and others which have closed their doors over the years, sadly. Some of these fics date back to almost 20 years old, or more, amazingly!

For fics on fanfiction.net, I highly recommend using this link (FicSave) to epub/mobi converter rather than dealing with the frustrating app. It functions like AO3′s built-in download button.

SSHG/Sevmione

Rec assistance by @perrydowning

Second Life by Lariope

Phantom of Hogwarts by Good_Witch

Romancing the War by Pubella

The Poison Garden by turtle_wexler @turtlewexlerwrites

A Light in the Fog by turtle_wexler

Pride of Time by AnubisAnkh

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Snape’s Story by Tbird1965

Recognition by jezzie (krith)

Tedium of Time by oneredshoe

Tango by Desert_Sea

Sense and Insensibility by Desert_Sea

Time Mutable Immutable by Grooot

The Twenty by Leyna Rountree

For the Only Hope by ausland @run-with-me-to-the-sea

Bundle of Joy by LadyTuesday

Our Hands Tied by multilingualism

Choose Something Like A Star by TeddyRadiator

Mistress of the Stacks by Ms_Anthrop

A Derailed Train of Thought by Ms_Anthrop

Antiquities by stormcorona

Watch Over Me by @snapeslittleblackbuttons

Dropped Down into the Unknown by @q-drew

Delicate Transitions by @morbidmuch

Lay Me Low by TeddyRadiator

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Another Dream by @dragoon811

A Chance For Happiness by @corvusdraconis

Breath of the Nundu by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose

Just to Be by Amarti @amarti-writes-stuff

Hinge of Fate by Ramos

Forged in Flames by @mswhich

Days in the Sun by bluespring864

Making sure the boy who lived, actually does by Hold_en @hold-enwrites

The Problem With Purity by Phoenix.Writing

One Step Forward, Two Decades Back by corvusdraconis

The Headmaster’s Wife by Mrs_HH @propertyofseverustsnape

The Master, the Warden, the Headmaster, and the Deputy by mak5258

Cloak of Courage by Wendynat

Hermione Granger and the Intended Vessels by ShawnaCanon

Augury and Ardor by SnapeySnax

Before the Dawn by snarkyroxy

The Love You Take by Subversa

His Draught of Delicate Poison by Subversa

and sooooo many more if you want them just ask, this is both mine and Perry’s oldest ship lol

Gramander (Original Graves x Newt)

A Gilded Cage is Still a Cage by Anonymous

take a deep breath (and let it go) by lincesque @tumbloncat

Roar by @elenothar

Matchmaker, Matchmaker by @prosodiical

Dearly Beloved by prosodiical

Basic Instincts by @manic-intent

Promised by Miss_Lv

Plan G by Aate

Heat of the Chase by argentoswan @wannahearaboutmycats

Newt Scamander’s Guide to Getting Things Done by arthureameslove

Against all Odds by Maril

Where I Belong by Mishafied

He Wants To Say, “I Love You, Nothing Can Hurt You” by @obsidionwingsofmidnight

Arranged by Miss_Lv

death of a bachelor by gudetama (elementary)

The Graves Identity by Mishafied

you make me feel this way somehow by gudetama (elementary)

The Nature of the Beast by AntiGravitas @absolutelynogravitaswhatsoever

The Knights, the Newt, and the Rose by @yinyangswings

The Wizard’s Cat by @natecchi

The Color of Boom by gypsiangel

Signalling Theory: Blue Coat by @obaewankenope

Flame by @esamastation

And The Tag Read Simply: “Pretty” by @funkzpiel

Aren’t You Gonna Arrest Me, Officer? by JoyBurd

a little bit lost by shortbread @shortbread-fanfiction

Dramione

Rec assistance by @cuthian

Seven Times by kerri240879

Her Beauty and the Moonlight by BrilliantLady

The Fallout by everythursday (orphaned and only available on AO3 now, but complete)

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen

Turncoat by elizaye @imnotleavinherewithoutyou

The Virgin Conundrum by AkashaTheKitty @akashathekitty

Bad Faith by Morrighan256

Isolation by bexchan @bex-chan-blog

The Serpent, the Witch, and the Broom Closet by bitchywitchy

Silencio by AkashaTheKitty

All You Want by senlinyu @senlinyu

Static by galfoy @heymanticore

What the Room Requires by Alydia Rackham

And We All Fall Down by @rumaan

Ambition’s End by Hanako A

Wait and Hope by mightbewriting @mightbewriting

Rewriting Destiny by mayawrites95 (mayarox95)

Chronos Historia by In_Dreams @indreamsink

A Muggle-born Magic by Musyc @willhavetheirtrinkets

Hunted by Bex-chan

A Second Look by @riverwriter

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae

This Too, Is Sacred by HeartOfAspen

Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi

Nocturnus by In_Dreams @indreamsink

Broken by @inadaze22

The Green Girl by Colubrina

Lady of the Lake by Colubrina

Rebuilding by Colubrina (really just anything written by @colubrina)

Presque Toujours Pur by @shayalonnie

Can’t Change the Way I Am by @nauticalparamour

Law and Marriage by DragonGrin (formerly TeenTypist)

The Tower Window by @xodramaqueenox

Unexpected by Emara88

Something Old, Something New by Kate Dessi

Suppressed Emotions by hopelesslydevoted.xx

Silver Blood by @freyaishtar

When the Day Met the Night by @bex-la-get

Harmony

A Marauder’s Plan by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

A Step to the Right by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

Eighth by lorien829

The Catalyst by lorien829

Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists by lorien829

Knife’s Edge by Celtic55

The Black Book by mosteveryonesmad

Awakening by SweetShireen

The Sword and the Snake by bartonfink1974

Dispelling the Silence by Indygodusk

One Year Later: Return to Hogwarts by Twilight’s Inferno

DraHarmony

Fourteen Thousand Galleons by @frumpologist

The Invitation by hot_elf @hot-elf

Love Love Love by MissELY @misselylux

Changing Scenery by aethling

East of Eden by msmerlin @ms-merlinblack

Turn Back Time by Dazeventura6

Foxfire by @setissma

Come Together by @nuclearnik

The Soul of the Wolves by LR_Earl @fanficbylrearl

Running From Lions by tryslora @tryslora

An Unexpected Family by ladyroxanne21

The Prophecies by jamcreynolds

Drarhinny

Reconstruction by @aldersprig

Fell From the Sky by BrandonStrayne @brandonstrayne (I really love this one, and not just as a Canadian.)

Demons From the Past by pottermum

Drarry

Rec assistance by @newtypeshadow

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by birdsofshore

Aural Gratification by birdsofshore

Lost Among and Falling by @bafflinghaze

The Corruption Sequence series by beren @berenwrites

Sentinel ‘verse series by elyssblair @elyssblair-blog

Date Blindness by dysonrules

Starts With a Spin by Maxine @serasarahhhh

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrimson

Paradigm by dysonrules

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Happen by ignatiustrout

Draco Sodding Malfoy by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Pieces of What by Jadwiga

Found, Not Lost by inspiration_assaulted

Shared Detention by DadIWriteGayPorn

Dirty Little Secret by Writcraft @writcraft

19 Years by shilo1364 @whimsicaldragonette

Morning Suns & Coffee Runs by laugh_a_latte @queer-coffee

Reus Una by purplepen76

Between Ink and Blood by Candamira

Ginmione

Distractions by @morningsound15

Cissamione

(This seems like it’s a bit cracky, but there’s some good ones, I promise! I sorta stumbled ass-backwards into this ship but really enjoy some of them.)

One Step Left by Cysteine @cysteine

Extinction by @rubikanon

Blinding Light by @16-pennies

Somebody Loved by beforeyouspeak

...

There. This is much better, isn’t it?

So my challenge to you, if your world is falling, burning down around you in flames... is this:

...if you feel yourself getting anxious or depressed, whether from the news or being cooped up in isolation or bored or on the verge of tearing your hair out or jumping off that roof or grabbing something to go after the dictator-of-the-week.... pause, take a breath, open up this rec list, close your eyes and pick something, and let chance take you somewhere hopefully far away. Let yourself be transported.

Oh, and don’t click on this Google Drive link. Really, there’s not 30+ GB of data on that Drive I’m sharing. Shame. There totally aren’t tens of thousands of books, as many audiobooks as could fit, and a large collection of fanfiction downloaded from AO3 in there. (Also, not all fics have been shared to that folder yet; I’m working on it a little at a time as I download more.)

154 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Well-Worn Note

Summary: When Adrien hears about a drive to give back to the heroes of Paris, he writes a heartfelt note telling Ladybug how much she is appreciated.

Years later, he finds that same note again in an unlikely place.

This fic has two reasons for existing! The first is that it celebrates the one year anniversary of my favorite server on Discord being created, and I have truly grown to love and appreciate it. Not to mention all the friends I've made through it!

The second reason - and what provided the specific inspiration for this story - comes from this post by @lnc2.

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien’s fingers wandered aimlessly among the keys of his piano. Sometimes he did it to think, to let his mind drift in a trance, but most of the time he just needed a reprieve from his thoughts altogether. To let himself be completely immersed in the music as it unfolded in front of him, changing from moment to moment.

The music was a great escape. It was hard to hold onto frustration and anger when he was at the piano. Adrien suddenly froze and groaned. At least, it was a great escape as long as his mind didn’t circle back to what he was trying to get away from in the first place. Thoroughly back in the present, he walked over to his computer to look for another distraction.

Naturally, his first stop was the Ladyblog. He was only two articles down when he saw her announcement for a special event for Heroes Day. There was going to be a drop off box where the grateful citizens of Paris can send gifts and notes to their favorite heroes. Alya had apparently already gotten Ladybug’s permission and Adrien wondered when that had happened.

“Yeah it was like two or three akumas ago.” Adrien started before noticing Plagg, who continued talking with a smirk and a satisfied swish of his tail. “You were running out of time, but she had lots of it so she hung around to answer questions by the adoring public.” Plagg took a bite out of his cheese. “Guess that was when.”

“Huh…” Adrien said, the gears in his head already turning.

“What’s up? Already looking forward to all that cheese you’ll be getting?”

Adrien scrunched up his forehead. “Why would I be getting cheese?”

“Well what else are they going to send you? Cheese is obviously the best call.” Plagg tossed his wedge into the air and caught it with his mouth. The kwami floated off the desk.

“There’s loads better stuff than that! Like-” Adrien’s eyes widened. “Wait. This is a great opportunity!”

“What are you on about, kid?”

Adrien turned around in his seat to look at Plagg. “I could send Ladybug a present through the drop off!”

“...Kid you know her. You could just give her something next time you’re on patrol or something. Heck, you’ve done that before!”

“Yeah, but this is a chance to give her stuff she’d never accept from Chat Noir,” Adrien said, turning back to his desk. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen and started writing.

The gifts he could figure out later - maybe a flower or some jewelry or clothes - but the critical thing was getting his emotions onto paper. Several crumbled up failures later and he was carefully finishing his masterpiece. If that didn’t make her feel loved, nothing would.

“Well, don’t forget to sign it I guess,” Plagg reminded, sounding bored.

Adrien shook his head as he folded up the paper. “It’ll stay anonymous.”

“Huh? What’s the point then? I thought you were trying to get her to fall for you or whatever?”

“No. I just… I want her to know she’s appreciated and, well…” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “If I don’t sign it, it’ll be like if all of Paris sent her the letter, you know?”

“Not really, but whatever floats your boat, kid.”

By that time the following day, Adrien had picked out a few presents - a rose with a ribbon, a charm bracelet, and a few other things besides. Storing them and the note in a box, he wrapped it and dropped it off with Alya as soon as he could.

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

Years passed and before he knew it, Adrien and all his friends were graduating from school. It was a strange new world they were heading into - Nino had gotten a great opportunity to follow his dreams of being a DJ in Nice. Likewise, Alya had landed an internship as a journalist there. By the end of the summer, both of them would be moving out of Paris.

But not everything was changing. There were still akumas, which meant that Adrien needed to stay close at hand to keep Paris safe. At least he’d be in good company - Marinette had been accepted to a Parisian university where she could pursue her ambitions of becoming a great designer. Not that she wasn’t already, Adrien thought with a smile.

Their last summer together was bittersweet. Friends had come and gone over the years, but those four had stayed the best of friends for that entire time. Now it seemed to be coming to an end, even as they all tried to find their way in the world. Who knew when the whole gang would come together again?

Maybe it was helping Marinette move today that had gotten him thinking about it so much. Which was itself a nostalgic trip as they helped pack away mementos of their times together. How often had Adrien come over after school to play Ultimate Mecha Strike with Marinette? The movie nights all four of them had spent there?

Things got quieter when Alya and Marinette left to buy more boxes - even Marinette had underestimated just how much stuff she had to pack. Nino and Adrien joked around like usual, but there was a somberness under it all that they just couldn’t shake no matter how hard they tried to keep things lighthearted.

Adrien almost welcomed it when Nino fumbled one of the boxes and took their minds off of it. At least he would have if the box hadn’t torn open and disgorged its contents onto the floor.

“Dang, dude,” Nino said as he stared at the mess he’d made. “M’s gonna kill me for sure if this stuff got busted.”

“Don’t sweat it, man.” Adrien put a comforting hand on Nino’s shoulder. “See if you can scrap up another box somewhere. I’ll pick all this stuff up and get it ready.”

Nino tipped his cap at him. “Thanks bro. You’re a real everyday Chat Noir!”

Adrien rolled his eyes at the phrase. After he’d thrown that party for Marinette and made his little speech, everyone had started using it.

“No problem. Take your time, though,” Adrien added as he sat down on the floor. “Looks like I’m going to be here a while.”

“Right on.”

Something didn’t seem quite right when he got to work sorting through the stuff. It must’ve been one of the boxes that Marinette had already packed by the time they got there, since he didn’t recognize any of it at all.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. All of them stirred up memories - old sketchbooks that were filled and forgotten. Scraps of fabric from pieces that Adrien remembered her finishing years ago. An old black umbrella.

“She still has this?” Adrien murmured to himself in awe. He laid it back down reverently - if it weren’t for that umbrella, the two of them might not have been friends, after all.

That was when he saw it. At first, he thought it was just another notebook, but there was something poking out of the bottom of it that caught his eye. Curious, he reached for the book.

The final date was from three years ago, but he could tell from the wear on the spine that it had been opened and closed many, many times. He flipped open the book and the faint scent of a rose reached his nose. The book naturally opened up to a page that had a pressed rose tied with a ribbon on it. That must have been what was poking out of the bottom. Taking the flower, he spun it between his fingers and watched the ribbon dance around it. There was something oddly familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Something fell out of the book and drew his attention away from the preserved rose. It was a folded piece of paper. As he picked it up, he could feel from the softness of the paper that it had been unfolded and refolded many, many times.

Following in Marinette’s footsteps, he unfolded it once more.

At first, he could only cringe at it. Whoever had wrote it clearly had a crush on Marinette, but some sense of curiosity had gotten the better of him and he needed to keep reading. As he continued, there was a nagging suspicion at the back of his mind that he’d seen this letter somewhere before. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Unless he-

His eyes widened. Unless he was the one who wrote it! But that made even less sense - he couldn’t remember ever writing Marinette a note where he thanked her for ‘saving the day more times than he cared to count’ nor where he called her ‘an inspiration to all of them’. Granted, he’d probably said stuff like that to her over the years but-

Then it hit him like a clap of thunder. The rose and its ribbon only confirmed it for him. As clear as day, he could remember writing this very letter years ago, but it wasn’t for Marinette - it was for Ladybug!

It all made sense. No one could figure out why Marinette had declined going to that school in London she’d really liked. Most of them had assumed it was just because she would miss Paris too much. But she could hardly fight akumas while she was in London, could she?

The door opens and Adrien looks up to see Marinette standing there like a figure from a dream.

She glances down to see the letter in one hand and the rose in the other. A blush spreads across her face, but he barely notices as he stands up. She is stammering something, but he can’t hear it over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Her bright blue eyes look up at him as he finally crosses the distance between them. He drops the note, forgotten immediately once again so he can cup her cheek with one hand. The rest of the world falls away as well as he whispers to her, quiet and sure:

“...My lady?”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Ladrien #ml fanfiction #my writing #Aged Up AU #(technically)#aps first anniversary #aps anniversary #Well-Worn Note

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magicofthepen · 2 years

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1 4 10 24 ? ❤❤

2021 End-of-Year Fic Questions

1. favorite fic you wrote this year

ohhh this one’s hard. I am proudest of my What We Choose ‘verse fics because there’s so much time and energy and heart behind them. but they’re less polished than some of my other fics because I rushed to get them published, so I like the prose in other ones better….and hmm also arguably favorite implies which one Appeals to My Interests the most…..

I’ll say Call It Home. It’s very “me catering to my interests as a reader” (ot3 moments of happiness before the war!) and it was so fun to write. My previous experience with trying to write something lighthearted was wow this is hard, but Call It Home just kind of flowed? I loved getting to spend time with each of the pairs of the ot3 and all of them together and create this space where the worst conflict between them is awkward feelings, things are generally just. good and they’re building something really solid between them. And I loved the format of all these slice-of-life scenes over time – some involving more serious emotions, some soft and comforting, some silly (*eyes the ‘Narvin almost discovers Romana’s fanfic’ scene,* truly that one was so fun to write 😄), and all of it orbiting around the arc of Narvin and Romana’s relationship changing post-Enemy Lines and how they’re processing those changes.

(I also can’t remember for sure when I actually wrote it, but I’m pretty sure at least some of it was in January (vs. late December 2020), so it Counts as “wrote this year.”)

4. total number of words you wrote this year

I posted 122,938 words in 2021, but I didn’t write all of those words in 2021 – many of the words in my late January/early February fics were written in 2020. and unlike in previous years, I don’t have Big Projects that I’ve worked on this year but haven’t posted, so my total number of words written is definitely lower this year than the previous two years. but this is a good thing! because my mental health could not sustain the previous pace, and slowing down is healthy for me. 😊

10. shortest wip of the year

hmm I’m going to interpret this as “shortest fic that I wrote this year but haven’t finished/posted,” which is a Leela/Narvin fic I wrote when I fell into my shortfic writing phase later in the year. (I hadn’t written any Leela/Narvin-centric fic, and a short fic seemed like a good time to branch out!)

24. favorite fic you read this year

ohhh this is tricky *scrolls through bookmarks*

so I love good longfic, and I love good AUs, and I binged all of this series (that was out so far) so quickly when I started reading it:

The Roads That Forgot How To Speak by @picnokinesis aka Doctor Who series 12 human au – four parts are out so far. So many things to love about this series – the clever ways events and characters are adapted to the human au, how it explores effects of trauma and digs deep into character dynamics, the pacing that kept me scrolling and scrolling and scrolling, the ambition of it (writing a novel length au of each episode of series 12!!)….highly highly recommend this series, it’s absolutely brilliant.

and I also must mention:

Romana The Promise by @presidentromana – aka the Romana/Sartia-centric Star Wars AU ft. the usual Gallifrey suspects. This fic broke my heart and then held me in the aftermath. Traumatized kids who only have each other in a hostile environment! Duels with flirtatious gay vibes! Duels that will haunt you! Torture and resistance and eventually, eventually, comfort! Horrific mentor/apprentice dynamics! Even if you are not familiar with Sartia, if you’re into Gallifrey, definitely check this one out, I was reeling after I read it.

there are many 2021 Gallifrey fics I want to Yell about though, there was some very good writing happening this year!! and I keep meaning to put together a proper rec post….

#thank you 😊#sircarolyn #asks #gallifrey audios #gallific #fic #also i promise i love your fics always…..but i will be biased towards longer plottier fics when it comes to the question of Favorite

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thequibblah · 3 years

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⭐ honestly there are so many things that I'd likevto ask which is why I want to ask a broaderish question.. How do you approach the characterisation of your "Main cast"? I think you have created some really great complex characters even though they do not exist in canon or even fanon (Germaine in example)

I hope this isn't too broad lol

no, i don't think it's too broad! just let me know if my answer doesn't actually touch on what you were wondering about haha

character creation for me tends to be spontaneous rather than conscious — i.e. i'm just writing my way through a scene and i'm like anyway, these people are new and they're friends or they're dating or they hate each other, and there's rarely a ton of forethought put into it. the vast majority of the ct cast was like that, i would say, except possibly michael, who was the first love interest i invented so there was a little more intention there

(but other than him i was really pulling things out of nowhere for the rest of the students especially — including with emmeline which sometimes surprises me)

the exception is, of course, the main cast. they and sara were very intentional, and i wrote little bio thingies for them before i started even outlining the fic. i mean the non-canon main cast, of course, lol — mary, dorcas (they're both canon but i've invented virtually everything about them, so), and germaine.

i did actually do a lot of hemming and hawing about how many girls there would be in lily's year in gryffindor. as discussed in a previous "my beef with j/k/r" instalment on this blog, the numbers of the hogwarts population really don't make sense at all, so i knew i could be flexible and kind of hand wave any questionable bits away. but the composition of the gryffindor girls was crucial in deciding lily's characterisation, imo — an easy way to convey implied characterisation is to show someone in contrast to the people around them. so: who is lily within the context of her friend group? is she friends with all the girls she rooms with?

separately, i've always liked writing friends in groups of four. in the planning stage of this i was like urghhh it's four girls, the four marauders, is that like too perfect....... and one thing i HATED was that people could then map on each marauder to each girl (lily = james is a bit questionable, though i firmly believe they're much more alike than they seem, but it kind of works.... mary = sirius, dorcas = remus, germaine = peter). and i didn't, and don't, want to make it seem like i've just made vaguely distinct female versions of each marauder!

i've made my peace with that risk, of course, and i think each of the girls is significantly different from "their marauder" (LOL) that it's actually fine — and, better still, if that thought occurs to anyone i hope that their characterisations will go on to provide interesting nuance to the parallels

but, anyway, tangent aside, i love groups of four because i think basically all my life i've had groups-of-four friendships. to absolutely go to bat for us foursomes, it's nice because no single person is the obvious odd one out, and each combination in pairs brings something different to the table — the role that doe plays in the group of four at large, for instance, isn't exactly the same as who she is in her individual friendship with mary, lily, or germaine.

the three main cast members came of some very clinical answers to those initial questions about lily.

one, i have always liked having mary be one of lily's friends, and in my characterisation of her she's obviously a great foil to lily, as a fellow muggle-born student. so, she was a lock.

two, i wanted to write one other canon order character, but i didn't want it to be marlene because in my reading of her canon mention, lily is unlikely to write a letter to sirius with her full name (paraphrasing but "i was so upset when marlene mckinnon died, i cried for ages") or, indeed, write a letter discussing how sad marlene's death made her, if they were besties and schoolmates. i went with dorcas because why the hell not? in developing her i then added all these thoughts

three, i felt the need to make up an oc so i could have absolute freedom over their fate. i had certain preconceived notions about mary and dorcas and what their stories would be, so there were other things (e.g. playing quidditch) that i wanted to have a friend of lily's do that they couldn't. plus, i wanted to write a massive lesbian.

another little sticking point, though, was that i (for a very SHRUG?? reason) didn't want lily to be besties with everyone she's lived with, but i didn't want to insert a catty rival into her dorm either. (now, don't get me wrong, i do love a good rival. i did, after all, write mary and amelia, and i am a known appreciator of carlotta meloni, and i adore TLE's marlene mckinnon. but i wanted the gryffindor girls to be like lily's safe space — a contrast both to her home life and to her recently-strained friendship with snape, where she's spent some time having to second-guess herself a lot. in my mind her friendships with all three of her besties coalesced at various points organically, until she was like wow wait i do actually have a home base here.)

the compromise was someone who was friendly with lily, but there's no strain on that friendship to be more than it is — which, sara and lily respect each other but have also learned they're not so alike that they need to hang out all the time. sara, to lily, is the girl you do things with because you're schoolmates, and then once you're out of school you amicably drift apart and occasionally leave a nice comment on their instagram

so that was how the gryffindors coalesced in my mind as placeholder figures. i will fully confess i start with tropes and then work out ways to deconstruct them or complicate them — as i've talked about in multiple of these questions, i think a lot of my characters are caught between sticking to their perceived label and acting the way they want to, aka the ripest high school drama fodder known to humankind

Wearing a fake smile and watching her sister’s sickening love life had put things in perspective a little. Why should she always do what was expected of her?

(we construct ourselves in contrast to those around us....)

mary started off as boy-crazy, doe started off as idealistic, and germaine started off as struggling to find her place. then i built up from those foundations, adding in tropey bits i enjoyed and wanted to engage with — i wanted doe to be passionately principled, but the gentler counterpart to mary, and even-tempered where lily runs hot. i wanted germaine to be a little bit thoughtless, changeable, someone utterly herself but still uncomfortable in her own skin. knowing, then, that the other two were going to be, how shall i put it, gentler hearts (LOL), i went back to mary and decided she would have this tough-girl, queen-bee persona.

then doe got her family background, which added in her ambitions and hinted at her future, and made it so her foundation would be threatened by events of the story. obviously i was writing mary in the aftermath of the mulciber/avery incident, so i needed to ask how much her take-no-shit vibe was threatened by it — and if not, why? how? unsurprisingly, even to people like amelia...

“At least I’m not overflowing with insecurity,” said Amelia. Mary laughed. The sound echoed through the courtyard. “We both know that’s not true.”

...the persona is put-on, but the "real mary" is so caught up in the invented mary that even she couldn't hope to uncover an authentic self...nor would she necessarily want to, because her affected self is still her...

wait don't get me started

germaine was already a quidditch player, and i wanted her to be a seeker because that's automatic investment in perhaps the single player with the most impact on the game — crucial for what i knew would be many, many quidditch sequences, where james wasn't always the most important pov! some of that seekery vibe leeched into who she is: she's searching, right from the start, for a sense of self that feels just out of reach:

“This year is going to be a year of change,” Germaine said [...] “Henceforth I will be going by... Gemma.” The girls looked at one another for a beat. Then Lily, Doe, and Mary burst into laughter.

she's more anxious and outwardly uncertain than her friends, and i wanted to consciously engage with that — proper teenage awkwardness, the kind that wouldn't really happen to Main Character lily, I Have No Sense of Shame mary, and I Am Overflowing with Good Sense doe. more than the other three, germaine is a normal person in the context of this world — she's not a muggleborn, so the war has a different impact on her; she's not the child of activists; she's not well-off. an absolutely spontaneous invention that i was really quite thrilled by was having her sister be crouch's secretary, because it's such a sudden, shocking realisation for her that she's got such a close connection in the thick of it

Germaine clapped a hand over her mouth. “Big news soon,” she mumbled. “Big news soon, that’s what Abigail said, only she didn’t say what big news…”

so germaine is really just... living her life, an indie coming of age film in which her friends' subplot is a fucking war LOL

i defined germaine in contrast to the other girls a lot when drawing out the characters for myself, mostly for a practical reason — i didn't want her to overlap too strongly with any of them, since she's the only one who's wholly my invention. i think some of that remains in her characterisation, but i decided to make it conscious instead:

Germaine saw herself as a happy medium, flexible enough to stretch sympathetically between her friends. But— What does it mean that I define myself in comparison to them? Nothing. She was only seventeen and she was finding her way.

i knew germaine was going to get the chaotic sporty romance pretty much right off the bat, but, fun fact, i hadn't actually picked out who her love interest would be until after i started spitballing other sixth years' names and had a basic idea of who emmeline was. wild!

i feel like i haven't said all i want to say but let's stop there or i'd go on forever, ha!

#director's cuts #ask me #anon

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actualgina · 4 years

Text

SO I SOLD MY BOOK

SO.

SO!!!

[Text: Publishers Weekly’s Rights Report]

I went into sub(mission hell) with a glorious mix of high hopes and low expectations, which was the only practical way I could process things: want for everything, expect nothing. My agent Elana sent emails out to editors and I descended into literal hell by playing Hades (I’ve since gotten the true epilogue, by the way).

Then a week later I get an email from Elana mentioning “fun news”—two hours after she sent it because I am a west coast timezone straggler.

I leapt out of bed! Crashed into the bathroom to brush my teeth! Fumbled for my phone!

The fun news: A PREEMPT!! OFFER!!

There were more fun details in the call and subsequent calls and emails that flew around, and this all happened very fast. This book couldn't be in better hands from my agent to my now-editor Hannah and the team at Delacorte. Hannah and I have been not-subtly circling each other ever since she read my short story “Fools” in Foreshadow. It was truly to my utter relief that she adored my manuscript, too, and we were both so excited to finally yell at each other (“You were watching me?? I was watching you??”).

The thing that I could have never prepared for is, after the deal settled in, I felt the next years of my life hurtle at me. Everything is about to change. Everything is not hypothetical anymore. The thing I'd been working forever toward—it's here. Oh my god.

Counting from the beginning, Violet Made of Thorns (formerly known as Vile Vile Violet) took four years, but the latest incarnation of my manuscript really only took root in 2019, and I completed most of it during the first half. I queried in 2020 and heavily revised for three months after signing with Elana. I'm big on big revisions, I love doing them, and I expected to do this one because it was only after this last version that I really adored this book.

If you know VMOT's inspiration though, you know it started nearly ten years ago, when I started writing a snarky contemporary fanfic just for fun.

I had only barely begun writing continuously, and I was still in my I-don't-like-writing-I-just-wanna-tell-stories phase (I was That Self-Taught Artist who wanted to make a webcomic as a teen, should’ve seen the signs). I wrote fanfic in the loosest sense: 98% of my characters were original characters or the most minor of canon, they just existed in a fandom space. The only reason I figured out I wanted to tell original stories was because I had such a supportive audience; that love was born from reader interaction. Though I keep a professional divide from my fanfic, I’ve always been open about referencing it, because without it, I wouldn’t be writing at all and besides, we’re well past thinking fanfiction is a taboo or inferior medium (and my opinion is people who do think that have no imagination re: storytelling or can’t fathom that some stories simply aren’t written for them).

The fic that inspired VMOT—it became so much more than I ever thought it would. I wrote an indulgently prickly gossip girl OC who reigns with a scathing pen and pursues a questionable relationship with the resident golden boy—and readers loved her! Okay, a lot of readers also said they hated her but also said they couldn't help but be hooked.

And as the story progressed, the silly satire became a more personal story, and so many people said they never read any character like her and that they felt seen for the first time. I got essays, y’all, legit hundreds of essays in the comments that I loved responding to (which I can’t do as a pro author, forewarning, but I appreciate any future essay writers) because I knew exactly what they meant, because I was writing about stuff I always wanted to see myself. The way ambitious (anti)heroines were rendered across media often left me wanting, coming across as wish fulfillment by and for people who didn't actually understand these characters. In this story’s case, I wanted to see ambition dissected uncomfortably, cynicism that can't be solved, romance for someone who didn't totally get romantic love, and everything tied up with a startling frankness.

So I decided to write these characters all over again, but in a completely original setting.

Writing an original second-world fantasy is very, very different from writing contemporary fanfic. I had to fill so many gaps in my skill I never had to deal with before. These last four years were spent learning how to worldbuild and introduce characters that an audience wouldn't have an automatic buy-in for and structure a story that wasn't serially written. While I worked on it, past readers would pop up and tell me they couldn't wait for me to get published while I'd be like "hahaha we'll see," because I knew the realities of publishing, but truly, it was the sweetest thing.

I don't know how many of you have been lurking all this time, but I'm glad that optimism hasn't been for naught and I will actually have a novel to show you after the long wait. This story is very different from the one you know. It's a love story. Like, really, actually, this time. And it's fantasy. Like, fantasy fantasy. It’s still blithe and bantery until it slingshots to serious (less about celebrity journalism and more about uh, complicity in imperialism and environmental destruction), but the plot, the words, the everything is different. The most obvious echoes come from the characterizations and those personal themes I wanted to explore, but even so, Violet isn't totally like her previous incarnation—and I never wanted her to be.

And I'm a much better writer now. Violet Made of Thorns is the best thing I've written. I hope it doesn't stay that way, because I have a lot more stories to tell, and also Book 2 to finish :)

Things you can do right now ♥️

Add Violet Made of Thorns to your Goodreads

Follow me on Twitter and Instagram and here, on Tumblr

Yell to your friends about this, to their utter confusion

#violet made of thorns #writing

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newvegascowboy · 3 years

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Hi, if I can be so bold and ask about two fics, could you do Ten Months: 9, 11, 15 and The Vilest Earth: 4, 7, 11? Or just one if its too much? <3

absolutely! tysm for the ask! <3

ten months

9. were there any alternate versions of this fic?

yes! there’s a completely different version of month four sitting in my original draft of ten months. when i ended up rewriting month four, i got rid of quite a bit of stuff because i couldn’t make it work or i thought it was stupid. as for the ending of the fic, the last three chapters have been planned since the beginning :)

i also have a little alternate ending fic that i played with where klaus goes home with Dave to meet Dave’s family and canon typical shenanigans ensue, but it’s more of something i like to think about on my own time rather than something i’ll probably ever write.

11. what do you like best about this fic?

ooh, tough. this might be an answer in two parts.

i honestly am quite proud of the character work i did on the ocs i used. (or, most of them anyway). im pleased with their character arcs and i, for one, have a lot of fun writing their dialogue.

i think though if i had to pick a favorite chapter, it would be month nine. i really really love the time travel conversation klaus and dave have and i think it turned out really well. i’d been waiting to get to that scene for so long and it was so gratifying.

15. what did you learn from writing this fic?

that i can, in fact, write a lot of words. Ten Months is the biggest cohesive project i’ve ever worked on, and when i finish ( I WILL) it may very well be over 200k words. i honestly never ever thought i could write so much and i think that is very sexy of me.

the vilest earth

4. what’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“Well do you have a better one?” Klaus sits up. He shuffles over to Dave, resting his arms across his knees. Dave’s lips thin and he crosses his arms. Klaus says, “Your middle name is dumb.”

“Everyone’s middle name is dumb, and that’s not going to work.”

“David Joshua Katz.” Klaus wrinkles his nose. Reaching out, he pokes a finger through Dave’s chest. “That birthmark on the inside of your thigh looks like a profile of Herbert Hoover, you whistle off-key, and I don’t like that blue shirt you wear.”

more than one line of dialogue, but i had it written for a long time and it makes me smile. some lightheartedness after a lot of angst.

7. where did the title come from?

it comes from a Shakespeare quote! i first heard the line in a tv show (Evil, if anyone wants to know, and that show fucking rules. its on netflix) and the quote really stuck with me. i think it’s really poetic and beautiful, and really strikes at the heart about the nature of death.

“Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk! When that this body did contain a spirit a kingdom for it was to small a bound. But now two paces of the vilest earth are room enough”

11. what do you like most about this fic?

i really like slowly introducing more of Klaus’ powers. there are a couple scenes i have written (that may take a while to get to, but y’know) but it’s super fun just having him dig deeper into himself and finding out just exactly what he can do. bonus everybody else being like “what the fuck? what the fuck???”

#not fallout #kal talks #The Umbrella Academy #klave #asks #thanks!!!

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riceccakes · 3 years

Text

Earth, Wind, and Coffee: Chapter Four Analysis

and now the last chapter of the fic! i really had so much fun writing these analyses so i hope you’ve enjoyed too :))

i’ve got a lot to say about this last chapter too so be prepared for a long one. lets get to it, shall we?

some fun stuff before we start!

before changing the direction of the story, the last chapter of the fic was going to be Chapter 3: The Meeting, A Well Deserved Jab, and a Good Night’s Rest

so, The Meeting was going to happen, korrasami was gonna come back together and instead of the krew outing during this chapter’s A Well Deserved Jab, korrasami was gonna go out on a date. korra still would punch iroh, korra never ‘moved in’ with asami, it was just gonna be a fluffy section. A Good Night’s Rest was actually going to feature hiroshi going to asami’s apartment while korra was over and being like “who the fuck is this” and korra was gonna be upset asami didn’t tell her dad about them (as, in the og timeline, they would be dating at this point) they’d have a convo working this out, a little like how korra said she’d never understand how asami and hiroshi don’t have a great relationship in A Much Needed Conversation. korra would then go to hiroshi’s office and make that whole speech and still ask asami to go the south. this is a v summed up version, one that when i made it, i was happy with. having published what i did, i much enjoy that ending more than this one :)

i wanted a way to show that korra likes asami (obviously, this is a korrasami fic) but of course, asami spent most of this only wishing korra liked her

mako asking out korra was a late edition, one i actually really like. mako’s role in the fic is pretty minor, sorry to those of you who really love him and maybe wanted more from him. however, i am a really big fan of the fact that in lok, even after all the stupid love triangle shit, mako was able to be good friends with korrasami, so i still wanted to capture that. he’s not at all upset when korra turns him down, but rather super happy for the fact that korrasami feel the same way about each other. an even later edition to this point is the bedroom scene when korra asks asami to wait for her, i’ll mention more about this scene later cause i really love it.

and we in gooooo: (i usually try to write these following the sections of the chapter but for this analysis, im gonna go topic by topic within each section)

literary devices (diction, figurative language, etc.):

There have been better days than this one. Days where Korra blows up Asami’s phone with funny Instagram posts she finds while Asami’s at school, days where she invites Mako and Bolin over and the four of them play board games, days where Korra asks if they can go out for a walk and she excitedly explores the area around Asami’s apartment. There have been worse days than this one. Days where Korra won’t get out of bed, days where Korra won’t speak, days where Korra won’t even look at Asami and she has to see that glossed over gaze gawk out the glass window.

back again, just quoting my favorite sections. and this one, yall, this one. the mirrored writing style, the ending with alliteration, how easily it describes a passage of time i mean come on. when i wrote this i was like “yyyyaaaasssss” and i won’t deny it. the “glossed over gaze gawk out the glass window” is obvious in alliteration, one that just sounds so good, it rolls off the tongue. but, there’s actually also another one, one that’s a bit more hidden “she excitedly explores the area around Asami’s apartment” note how these both end the descriptions of korra’s bad/good days respectively, as a sort of way to frame which parts of the sentence correspond with the good days and bad days. now, going onto korra’s days, three examples of good days, three examples of bad days (that’s technically six different days right there, and it doesn’t even have to be in succession.) what i also love about this info into korra’s days is how it shows a passage of time without having to be like “it’s been a few weeks” or “after some time/a while” it doesn’t stick out, at least not to me, it’s not a jarring way to say, “hey, in the story now, time has passed since last chapter!” idk, i just am really proud of this paragraph and i wanted to point it out in its own section :)

Asami will never, ever say she’s happy that the Red Lotus attack happened, but, it’s what brought Korra to her. It’s what brought more friends to her, it’s what brought her to see her father isn’t as great and almighty as she’d grown up to believe. How could she ever thank something so horrible for bringing about all these life changing things in her life?

this sort of, existential section, was something i came up with on the toilet. (tmi? im not gonna apologize tho, this is a behind the scenes explanation of my writing and some of my best writing happens on the toilet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) any who, i didn’t want to leave any loose ends and, up until this chapter, i don’t really think i showed how asami felt about the attack and the situation and what’s happened after. also, asami being the perfectionist and analyst she is, i know she’d reflect on everything that’s happened to her in the span of about six months (give or take) and even more so, reflect on what’s happened with korra in the time they’ve known each other. it was a bit painful to write this section, it’s that sort of mentality that’s like “some horrible, horrible shit happened, but really, really good things came out of it. so, should i still hate all that horrible stuff or should i just appreciate the good things that came out of it?” (i’ve been debating this for years now with something personal and to this day, i’m not sure. i’m not sure if i’m more thankful for it all happening because of the few good moments it brought or if i wish none of it happened for the chance at some alternate reality of good things happening. anyways, i digress)

Kuvira stays silent for a moment, “When Hiroshi reaches out to you, tell him everything you said to me. Tell him everything you said when we were in your apartment after the presentation. He needs to know how you feel, he needs to know how he’s made you feel for years. Hiroshi can’t change if he doesn’t know what’s wrong and you want him to change, don’t you?”

Asami grips the steering wheel, staring at the red light in front of her. Her foot slowly pulses on and off the break, inching forward, waiting for the signal.

“I do.”

She feels the pit of her stomach churn, wondering if she could ever say all of it to her father. Kuvira isn’t wrong, she wants her father to change, but not in every way. Not in the business sense, not in the ambition sense, but rather, she wants a father, she wants to feel like the man she calls Dad really deserves the title. It pains her to say he hasn’t. The light turns green and Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal.

“So then you’ll tell him?”

For just a moment, her Satomobile doesn’t move but with a sharp, deep breath, Asami steps on the pedal. “I will.”

back again with our car metaphor/symbol thing! i really do love this idea of using the Satomobile as a way to show the relationship between hiroshi and asami, and how asami handles that relationship. this is from A Much Needed Conversation, some time after asami’s returned to future industries, calling kuvira in reluctant hope of knowing what her father is doing. they talk about asami telling hiroshi all this important stuff, stuff that asami’s been hesitant to bring up at all. (only after a breaking point did she finally let it out) this section has a mix of it all, diction, metaphor, along with some suspense by using line breaks.

Her foot slowly pulses on and off the break, inching forward, waiting for the signal. / “I do.” - here’s a good example of suspense. (it continues through the rest of the excerpt) so, here was have asami, absolutely scared shitless, as she always is with her father and this subject of her life in relation to him. except, now with their time apart and what happened with the meeting, asami’s kind of got this “fuck it, whatever” mentality that goes a few different ways. “fuck it, whatever” my dad totally turned on me and was an asshole, i don’t care. “fuck it, whatever” we cut off ties, i can do whatever i want. “fuck it, whatever” i might very well do whatever it takes to get my dad back because i miss him but im also super scared as per usual. “fuck it, whatever” im not the one who needs to do anything to get him back so i won’t even think about it. there’s just a lot for asami to unpack here and in the setting of her father’s legacy, it’s even more for her.

She feels the pit of her stomach churn...The light turns green and Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal. - more suspense. the light is green, green means go, but asami is waiting, thinking, hesitating. this also relates to the line earlier “waiting for the signal” well, this is the signal, the green light means go. but also, kuvira telling asami to tell hiroshi everything is also the signal to go, it’s like the push for asami to do it. she sees the signal, it’s go time, and yet “Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal” asami is still nervous, still scared to have this conversation with her father because she just doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

“So then you’ll tell him?” / For just a moment, her Satomobile doesn’t move but with a sharp, deep breath, Asami steps on the pedal. “I will.” - this mirrors just a few lines earlier. when kuvira asks asami to tell hiroshi everything while she’s waiting for the green light, her dialogue has a line break. for dramatic effect purposes, but also to show a sense of firmness. it’s by itself, it doesn’t need to be supported; asami really, truly means this. however here, her dialogue tag is connected to the narration its related to. even while asami confirms she’ll do this, that she’ll talk to her father, it’s hesitant, it takes a moment for her to say yes.

what i really love is how much can be covered in such few lines. i’m not sure you all saw this when reading, ive always been very into reading/writing analysis, so i’m always looking at everything with a fine tooth comb; in my own writing, it’s no different. if you didn’t see this before, i hope learning it now gives you a different perspective if you ever choose to read my fic again :)

content (typing up loose ends, leaving breadcrumbs, additional info):

lets talk about korra

a lot happens for our girl in this last chapter. i’ll try to be concise, i tend to kind of ramble. i think what’s kind of cool, and i didn’t realize this beforehand, is that theres a speech from korra in each section. in A Well Deserved Jab, we see korra’s first time speaking at the support group meeting and what i really like about this is there’s no real big event that’s happened for her to finally be able to go up there. i feel like there’s always this one, life altering moment in stories when people need to deal with trauma or just work up the courage to do something, but in our case, it’s not like that. it’s the time and the care that’s slowly been working and helping korra for her to feel ready. it’s been a culminating process for her to get to go up there and for whatever reason, korra felt ready. let’s go a little into this speech

we finally learn more about the attack. we learn why korra’s always been picking at her wrists, the memory of the zip ties are still strong and she scratches at hopes of making the feeling go away. we also hear more about korra losing control that night, which in turn made her want to control everything with her life after the event. (lil fun-ish note while we talk about some deep stuff right now, last chapter’s first paragraph, about korra enjoying pour over coffees, was a purposeful choice. when doing pour overs, you have direct and absolute control over the coffee and how you make it, which gives korra a greater sense of comfort, because she knows she’s in charge when doing this.) my favorite part about this whole speech is right before the tail end of it, where korra says “sometimes surprises are better than plans” it was never in her plan to meet someone and find comfort and support and love and grow with it. (my headcanon is that korra just wanted to mull this over alone, sort of like in book four after the canon red lotus attack.) instead, korra met asami and the two clicked and korra could see a light at the end of her tunnel she thought would be pitch black forever. i really enjoyed getting to write this for korra.

korra’s second speech takes place in A Much Needed Conversation. another scene from the fic i wrote beforehand, i think somewhere between finishing chapter two and mulling over the decision to make the fic longer. this was sort of my cathartic, “lets yell at hiroshi for being sucky” moment. a lot of points are brought up here, all of which i believe are valid. it poses the simple, yet ever complicated question of “why?” i’ll get into hiroshi’s response in a later section, but what i’ll highlight about this speech is korra’s statement, “Now, I know that I don’t need to be saying any of this, because Asami can more than hold her own in any conversation, but I am doing this because you are hurting the woman I love, and I will not just let that happen.” its a declaration of love, love that i know is deeper than just romance but also deeper than just friendship. it’s admiration for asami being so strong, admiration for asami being so powerful and smart, korra says more about it in the speech. i tried it make so that korra wasn’t trying to control this situation with asami’s father, but rather, this was korra’s attempt at getting them to try and work something out. korra wants what’s best for asami, she wants her to get everything she wants. korra knows asami wants a better father and the most korra feels she can do is slap hiroshi (with her words) across the face and get him to realize that’s what asami wants.

korra’s third and final speech opens A Good Night’s Rest. we get just a little more about that night, i actually wrote this speech out loud. i just sort of put myself in korra’s place and started talking. my intent with this opening was to give more insight into how korra feels about asami. this is also a call back to the beginning of the chapter, about waking up asami if korra ever needs her. i took this action as a solidifying definition for asami to know “yeah, korra really does love me.” sure, in the last section, korra sort of did say it, but actions still speak louder than words. a lot of this final chapter was just showing how much korra has grown, i think i achieved that.

before we move on, i just wanted to say a lil bit about the bedroom scene where korra asks asami to wait for her. it’s a small confession that i think just says so much. another time here to show that romantic korrasami will happen, but it’s also just insight into korra and her thoughts about romancing asami. she wants it too, so badly that she almost gets into it before she’s ready. did i psych you guys out like asami, who thought she was finally going to kiss korra? it’s all in the lines, “I’m almost there...I know I am, Asami. I’ll be there soon, I need to be better. I need to be better for you.” and now, after thinking about it, i almost wasn’t gonna word it like this. what korra’s saying here is that her progression is only being done so that she can be good for asami, which, i didn’t want to convey. however, sometimes, that’s just how people think; they think, “if i have to do something, i gotta do it for someone else.” and so that’s what i’ve done with korra here, it’s just this mentality that she’s growing out of. it’s okay to have this thought process, good even, but not for every single thing you do. and i wanted korra to know that, which is why i love asami’s response, “I think you’re already great.” it’s just to remind korra, yes you can get better, you will get better. but not for asami, but for yourself, because asami already loves you the way you are.

kuvopal

breadcrumbs; that’s all i’ve really done so far with kuvopal is put lil breadcrumbs everywhere for the people who like the idea of the relationship to grasp at. is that mean of me? maybe, but i really love kuvira and opal as a couple so i wanted to keep hinting and hinting and hopefully getting you readers interested too. kuvopal has been sprinkled in since chapter two and i wanted to leave the readers with just a little ounce of hope

asami’s official introduction with opal heavily involves bolin, enough to the point where the two kiss each other on the cheek. now, of course, after reading the chapter, you know bolin and opal aren’t dating, but i wanted to stress you out a lil bit xD asami is weary of mentioning kuvira, so there’s not much we really get to see about how opal feels. opal may have wanted to talk when asami mentioned kuvira just before korra asked about spring break, but she didn’t. why didn’t she say anything? do you think she’s wanted to talk about kuvira? what about her major, child services and the foster care system, do you think kuvira influenced that, being she essentially was fostered by the beifongs? do you think we’ll ever find answers? *wink*

iroh

so obviously, we don’t like iroh. if there’s anyone in this story who doesn’t get a happy ending or a second chance, it’s him because he’s the worst. i realized we hadn’t seen too much of iroh in the previous chapters and this being the last one, i needed to really show just how not cool iroh is. the soccer game is very clearly an indication of just how conceded and rude he is. after the game, his conversation with asami is bad. he’s being invasive and inconsiderate of asami and he doesn’t care. same with at the restaurant. so, of course i wanted iroh to get his comeuppance and we have that by korra punching him.

going off of this, i didn’t want it to feel like iroh got a one and done kind of deal. he was incredibly awful to asami and his “friends” and i didn’t want this behavior to be taken lightly. so, i chose to make iroh just basically lose everything :) he loses his friends, possibly his job, i just KNOW izumi is disappointed as fuck that he’s acted like this and uncle iroh is rolling over in his grave that someone of his own blood would be like this. i wanted to address iroh in his own category because i just wanted you all to know that he is the only character not getting off easy. i really hope that how iroh’s situation turned out is good, as in, he got what he deserves.

hiroshi

hiroshi was an interesting character to go about in the final chapter. obviously, throughout the fic so far, hiroshi hasn’t been a standout father or boss. if i haven’t said it before, i’ll say it now: i always wanted hiroshi to have a second chance, ie, i wanted hiroshi to try to be better. for one, asami deserves it. she deserves a good parent who’s there for her and isn’t just obsessed with his job and the glory and empire he’s built up for himself. another reason, i believe everyone (within reason, *cough cough* not iroh *cough*) deserves a second chance. at the very least one more try, to be better, and if they’re actively trying, they’re doing better.

so hiroshi gets a bit of a wake up call from not only korra, after she so passionately scolded him in the name of her love for asami, but hiroshi also got one from asami directly. take your pick as to which conversation sparked hiroshi to call her to say goodnight. it’s an effort, and asami even says it herself, that after a while, the juice of it ran out. but kuvira said it too, it’s a start. what im trying to highlight is that no one is perfect and their ways of trying to change themself isn’t going to be perfect either.

and the kicker is hiroshi going to the south, without any other reason than to see asami. hiroshi only ever travels for future industries related business, but here he goes, without kuvira, to the south to see asami. i want to keep highlighting, asami says this is just the start. she hasn’t yet fully forgiven him, but she’s giving him the chance to be forgiven. that’s what i want to make most apparent on the topic of hiroshi and asami’s relationship: hiroshi is not getting off easy. but he’s trying, and in the words of the good place, that is what matters isn’t if people are good or bad, what matters is if they’re trying to be better today than they were yesterday. hiroshi, in this action, coming to the south, is trying to be a better father that day than all the days before. offering up the job offer from tonraq is hiroshi trying to be a better boss that day than the day before. staying in the south to spend real, quality time with his daughter is hiroshi trying to be better that day than every day before that.

it’s all in the trying.

honorable mentions:

in the og timeline, back when korrasami was going to be a confirmed couple in the fic, after returning from the south, asami was going to go to the cafe at one in the morning while korra was working and korra was going to make her an avatar. i liked the full circle aspect at the time but really, i much prefer what i’ve posted over that og timeline.

anything i would’ve wanted to change?

i think, overall, i maybe would’ve wanted to divide chapters up differently. as i continued writing, the three sections definitely could’ve supported themselves as singular chapters. especially this final chapter, which was almost 20k words. but, in the end, i am so proud of this fic and of myself for following through and finishing it.

i lost a bit of steam towards the end of this analysis, i’ve actually had this in my drafts for almost two months. but, i think what i wanted to say, i did, and as always, if you have any comments or questions, or just wanna talk to me, do it ! i love any and all commentary on my writing :))

thanks for reading the analysis if you did x

#ricewrites #earth wind and coffee #coffee shop au #korrasami #korra #asami sato #lok #writing analysis #chapter analysis

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cake-writes · 5 years

Text

Breathe (Lecture 1)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Mixed Delivery (Social Media & Written Parts), Eventual 18+

Summary: Bucky takes a history class at his local university in hopes of catching up on the last few decades, on everything he’s missed whilst under Hydra’s control – but he winds up learning a lot more than what’s on the syllabus. He learns how to heal.

Written for @the-omni-princess’s 1k writing challenge!

(Formerly Hope & Happiness; I decided that I needed a better title!)

TAG LIST: OPEN

💛 This fic is interactive. Here’s how it works! 💛

So I took the time to find an actual university course to complement this story because I’m just that invested, you guys. (I’m also a huge history nerd, lmao.) The syllabus and lectures are real, and any content relating to these in my story is straight from the source.

Lectures are recorded and available for a listen! Most written chapters will correspond to a lecture; I’ll list which one at the top of the chapter if you want to learn along with Bucky. Each one is about 40-50 minutes long and in English. Click here to access them!

This is definitely optional, though, so please don’t feel pressured to listen, but if you’re a history nerd like me then you may want to take a look!

Wednesday, August 24

Lecture 1: Introductory Lecture

Although Bucky had been on campus a couple of times before now – first to apply, and then to meet with an advisor as all new students were required to do – he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sheer size of it. Universities these days were massive: cities within a city, buildings upon restaurants upon shops and all he wanted to do was learn.

That was all he’d ever wanted to do, really. Learn about himself. Learn what made the world tick. Learn all the things he didn’t know. He’d always excelled in school, and once upon a time he’d started to save money in order to attend university. Didn’t know what he’d study – just knew that he wanted a degree in order to support the family he thought he’d have one day.

Ambitions for the future.

Then came the draft. Because hadn’t yet been able to save enough, he’d been shipped out to the European Theater – sent to hell, not to college.

Ambitions for the past.

Two years spent in cold, wintery foxholes gave him an opportunity to think, but all he could think about was the stench of death surrounding him, surrounding his unit, surrounding every waking moment of his life at war. Not his death, of course, but it may as well have been.

Bucky learned to hone in on the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, the rush of adrenaline in his veins, the sensation of his boots in mud and snow. He learned to focus. He learned to survive.

And all the while, he lived with the very real possibility that he wouldn’t make it through – and, well, he didn’t. Not really. Some parts of him never made it back; what little remained became the property of Hydra. Mind corrupted, soul shattered, will broken into sharp, jagged shards of glass.

Fragile. Breakable. Erased, but still alive.

Bucky may have survived, but he’d never really been right since – never really been whole. Physically and mentally, with too many pieces of himself missing or damaged, one constant stayed the same: a desire to learn. He’d gotten through the war and Hydra’s harsh training because that quality was a part of him – one of the only parts that made it through.

Battle-worn and weary from surviving – not living, not really – Bucky finally had the opportunity to take a step back from the battlefield to just… exist. To live. To breathe. In taking a leave of absence, he embarked upon another journey: to rediscover the man he used to be.

It would be difficult task, he knew. The twenty-first century was far cry from the 1940s, a far cry from home, and the sheer size of the college campus only served to remind him of that. In fact, he was only able to recognize that he was still in New York because this school happened to be the very same one he’d once planned to attend so long ago. Staten Island University. Right across the bridge from his present-day apartment in Brooklyn, not to mention his old family home.

Home.

But this unfamiliar new century was his home, now, so he sought to learn what he’d missed over all the decades he’d lost to Hydra. In the process, maybe he’d learn about himself, learn what made the world tick, learn all the things he didn’t know.

What better place could there be to do that than at a university?

Bucky soon found out that his education would be paid for by the United States government for his service in the military. Ironic that the very barrier which forced him into war was the same thing being gifted to him now. The GI Bill. A reward for his patriotism. A thank you for his sacrifice.

Flowery words for a bribe meant to keep him silent. Call him jaded.

Worse still, if Bucky thought tuition was expensive back then, he didn’t know what to call it today. He’d been rendered speechless when he found out what a single class would cost, but rest assured, Uncle Sam would pay for it so that he didn’t have to.

Physically, it only cost him an arm but mentally, it cost him so much more.

U.S. Society and Politics Since 1945. Mondays and Wednesdays at two o’clock. Three credit hours, whatever that meant. He signed up for the class after his first meeting with an advisor – thought that it might do him good to put his past behind him and learn.

Bucky arrived about twenty minutes before the class was due to start, all nerves and first day jitters – absolutely ridiculous when he really thought about it, so he tried to put it out of his mind and selected a seat in the very back row in hopes of not being noticed.

Counting seats proved to be a good distraction. Three hundred seats. Would there really be that many students? Save for a handful of his new classmates scattered about, the too-large lecture hall seemed like it would never fill. Sure enough, however, it eventually started to – not all three hundred seats, but close enough.

It wasn’t until then that Bucky realized he might have been woefully unprepared. Just about everyone else had laptops sat out front of them, and while he could use one – clunkily – he still preferred something more a little more tangible. All he’d brought along was the required textbook, a notebook, and two pens, one of which he’d been rolling in between a gloved thumb and forefinger for the last few minutes.

That was a nervous tic of his, one he’d picked up in the army, except today it was a pen instead of a cigarette and he sure could have used a pack of Lucky Strikes right now. A cigarette would have done wonders to take the edge off, but he didn’t smoke, not anymore. Frustrated, he dropped the pen back down onto his desk and slumped down in his chair.

Had school always been this nerve-wracking? He couldn’t remember.

A snort drew his attention, and Bucky glanced to his left to find you sitting a few seats down in the same back row, watching him in amusement.

It caught him off-guard.

“Is this your first class?”

A innocent question, unprompted – untainted.

While Bucky knew that there would be some socializing required, especially in the discussion section of the class, never in his wildest dreams did he think that anyone would be willing to strike up a conversation with him. He had half a mind to say ‘no’ and ignore you as long as possible, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. He opened up.

“How could you tell?”

You shrugged. “You’re fidgeting, for one. But mostly because you don’t have a bag.”

Why would he need a bag? He was only taking one class.

At his doubtful look, you spoke again, voice light and airy, “Don’t worry. You’ll learn.”

Well, that was foreboding. Then again, you seemed like you would know. You looked slightly older than most of the other students who were likely fresh out of high school, and you appeared to be all sorts of prepared, what with a leather laptop bag on the chair to your right and some brightly-coloured notebooks, binders, and a few thick textbooks all strewn about the desk in front of you.

A laptop bag, but no laptop. Strange.

Bucky wasn’t really sure why he wanted to know, but he nodded to your books and asked anyway, “What else are you taking?”

“Mostly upper-level psychology classes. I’m in my final year. What about you?”

“This is my only class,” he admitted, and to him, that wasn’t a satisfactory answer. He was only taking the one class with no particular goal in mind, but here you were, taking at least four other classes judging by the number of textbooks on your desk.

You had a goal.

He didn’t.

You didn’t ask why, though; instead, you offered him your name, along with a bright smile.

“Bucky,” he found himself telling you way too easily.

“Well, Bucky, it’s nice to meet you.” You paused, then, before you made an offhanded comment of, “I think it’s really good to have a friend in class, you know? Mostly so you can steal their notes when you skip.”

A joke, perhaps, but Bucky took it literally. That may have been the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “I’m not gonna— Who pays thousands of dollars in tuition and then decides not to come?”

Your brows rose in surprise for a moment or two, but then you laughed at his stick-in-the-mud response. “Oh no, you’re one of those. What a goody two-shoes!”

Don’t worry, you’d said. You’ll learn.

But the mischievous sparkle in your eyes let him know that you were just teasing, and what’s more, he actually didn’t mind. No, he kind of liked it, having some normal human interaction for once – not whatever the hell he’d grown used to at the compound. Between blood-spattered banter in the field and too-dark humour used as a coping mechanism, his interactions there were anything but normal.

Bucky also liked that you had no idea how wrong your sentiment was; not that he’d never admit it. This was the first time in a long, long while that he’d been treated like a regular person – not enhanced, not a science experiment, not an Avenger – and he had no intention of shattering the illusion anytime soon.

“I’m not giving you my notes, either,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Super goody two-shoes. My mistake.”

When he opened his mouth to respond to your sassy one-liner, however, the professor’s voice sounded from the front of the lecture hall. You gave him a final wink before you turned to face the front, purple pen already poised and ready to go.

Good afternoon! Can you hear me in the nosebleeds? Yes? With me? Okay…

Forty-five minutes passed in a blink, and most of the students quickly started to pack up their belongings – but not you. No, you stayed in your seat and continued scribbling away at something in your notes, seemingly having zero plans to leave anytime soon. Bucky couldn’t help but be curious as to why you weren’t packing up, but it wasn’t any of his business and he didn’t ask.

Armed with a new syllabus and a daunting list of required readings for the week, he pulled himself to his feet and collected his own belongings; only managed to push the chair back in and take about two steps toward the door before he heard your voice again.

“Hey, Bucky, wait.”

He turned around to see you still reading through one of your textbooks, not even looking in his direction, but in your outstretched hand was a bright pink sticky note.

What?

“Come on,” still focused on your reading, you waved the post-it, pink paper flapping in the makeshift breeze but staying stuck to your finger anyway, “Take it. Here.”

Hesitantly, Bucky stepped closer and accepted the proffered note. Upon it, he found that you’d hastily scrawled your name and phone number, along with what he assumed was meant to be a smiley face. The drawing was god-awful, and a welcome distraction from the way his heart had immediately leapt into his throat because a woman had just given him her phone number.

Her phone number.

“Th— Thanks?” he stammered, unsure.

Now, he certainly wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but this—

“Don’t get any weird ideas,” you interrupted his train of thought, finally pulling your eyes away from the textbook to look up at him.

Gorgeous, glimmering, big doe eyes focused right on him, now, and seeing you up close like this, a fleeting thought crossed his mind about how attractive you were. He blamed it on the fact that you’d just given him your number, and now his brain only wanted to overthink what he’d interpreted as the first sign of potential interest from the opposite sex in – well, far too long.

Bucky hadn’t been expecting that at all, and he wasn’t particularly interested to pursue such a thing, either. At least not right now. He still needed to get his head on straight; still needed to figure out his own problems before he took on someone else’s.

Even if you were a pretty little thing he might have taken dancing, once.

Then you added, “If you have any questions, just shoot me a text, okay? I remember how lost I was when I first started, especially because I’m a,” you did some air-quotes, then, “‘mature-aged’ student.” Another snort, one much less ladylike than before. “Mature-aged. I’m not that old!”

So it was a friendly offer. Nothing more. Not like the implications in the 40s – and Bucky thought, then, that if you were considered to be ‘mature-aged,’ he didn’t want to find out how he’d stack up.

“Thanks,” he said again, this time a little less unsurely. “I appreciate it.”

Another one of your bright smiles brought a sense of calm over him, a feeling that carried over even when you poked fun at him again, “Then I guess I’ll see you next week, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes.”

“Yeah,” he responded, feeling the corners of his lips turn up just a little at your goodnatured teasing. “See you next week.”

And when he left the lecture hall, fluorescent pink post-it stuck to the inside of his notebook, Bucky’s footsteps felt just a little lighter than before – and so did his heart.

Part Two

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #breathe

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