Season 2 turned me from a casual Voltron fan into a complete Sheith disaster. The first two steps after that were:
1. Start a Shiro appreciation blog (and spend hours upon hours digging through and queueing up the gorgeous fanart) 2. Work through the AO3 tag and compile a list to rec to others who’re new or who need some extra motivation to fall into this fandom
Here’s the first batch of Sheith fics I’ve enjoyed thus far (it’s a long list, so make sure to view under the read more). Another set hopefully coming soon, as I have the time to continue reading.
Shiro is gazing out into the universe when Keith turns to him, and Keith can’t tell whether Shiro is looking at the stars or the space between them, but he’d bet Shiro has always been a stargazer and always will be.
And for a fraction of a—second, tick, whatever it is up here in space—Shiro closes his eyes. His hand circles around Keith’s wrist lightly and then he squeezes, and, for the first time, Keith lets himself hope.
Keith is going to see Shiro now because he wants to, and not because anyone would call him a coward if they knew anything about it and knew Keith hadn’t done it yet. And also not because Keith wouldn’t be able to disagree if he were called a coward… No, Keith is definitely going to talk to Shiro because that’s always been the plan when Shiro came back.
His arm was gone, replaced by inorganic machinery that clicked and whirred, but the physical memory of its loss remained burned into his nervous system. It translated as a haunting pain that spiked and ebbed but never fully receded, always constant like a needle digging into his brain.
Shiro’s coming apart at the seams and Keith is the only one that can see it happening.
, James and Sirius meeting on the Hogwarts Express and becoming friends faster than lightning. ( Small Beginnings )
James standing in shock as Sirius is sorted into Gryffindor, then giving the loudest cheer possible over the boos and whispers that echoed through the hall.
Sirius feeling so pleased when James comes to sit next to him after he is sorted, grinning happily at him and James punches his shoulder in congratulations.
James and Sirius bouncing on James’ bed the morning of their first lessons out of sheer excitement.
James and Sirius wrestling and playing fighting on the grounds at breaks laughing as they tackle each other in the lake on a hot day.
James and Sirius sneaking books out of the Library to learn a good spell to get back at Sirius’ cousins for jinxing them in the corridor.
James and Sirius discovering that playing jokes and hexing people is quite possibly the funnest thing that two young boys could be doing.
James and Sirius practising all their new spells on first years as they go from lesson to lesson, deciding that the one that makes bubbles come out of your ears for hours on end is easily the best.
James rounding up Remus and Peter so they can all go to find Sirius after Sirius’ first Christmas and holiday back at home. James sitting up with Sirius all night as he miserably transfigures the Slytherin pin his parents gave him into a Gryffindor one back and forth.
Sirius feeling so loved by all his friends, especially the messy haired one that won’t leave his side until he is okay, but so lonely inside.
James and Sirius infuriating Lily Evans by shouting out answers in lessons and making a dramatic scene of not paying any attention. That is until she hexes one of them for flicking wet paper at the back of her head.
James and Sirius spending hours talking about James’ favourite Quidditch teams and Sirius’ favourite bands.
James and Sirius being in detention together more times than they can count.
James wanting Sirius to spend the summer at his house.
Sirius wanting nothing more, but knowing he can’t.
James and Sirius giving each other a crushing hug as they met on platform 9 ¾.
James and Sirius talking loudly about everything they would get up to this year on the train, much to Remus’s annoyance ‘Guys shut up we can’t be like last year, we have to behave now.’
James and Sirius laughing at Remus. Remus grinning.
James feeling a hole appear in his stomach as Regulus is sorted in to Slytherin. James putting his arm around his best friends shoulder and wordlessly consoling him.
Sirius feeling his brother slip away before him, feeling like the ground should swallow him whole. Sirius shrugging James off none-the-less. ‘I always knew he would, I always knew he wasn’t like me, really guys, it doesn’t matter.’ James knowing anyway that Sirius is devastated.
James and Sirius having a whole new year of pranks to plan.
James and Sirius buying McGonagall cat litter for her birthday.
James and Sirius getting put into detention.
James and Sirius charming Mrs Norris so that she barks.
James and Sirius getting put in detention.
James and Sirius starting food fight in the hall, making the girls toilets flush the wrong way, turning Peeves green for a week, stealing Fang to scare some Ravenclaws with and deciding the leg locking curse was their new favourite corridor joke.
James and Sirius starting to feel they are never out of detention.
James becoming the Gryffindor seeker and being overjoyed.
Sirius sitting front row from now on at every single one of James games, cheering even louder than the rest as his best friend soars.
James and Sirius realising something isn’t right with their friend Remus. Peter being the first to suggest that Remus may not really be going home every month.
James and Sirius agreeing and the three boys going off to spend the night in their favourite mischief planning corner of the Library to figure it out.
James and Sirius being shocked when they realise, but swearing that they would never abandon Remus and that they should all confront him and tell him that the had worked it out.
James and Sirius sitting Remus down one night and telling him. Remus staring to cry and Sirius rushing over next to him to hug him. James moving so that he can rub Remus’ shoulder in comfort.
James telling Remus that they could never hate him for what he is, that he is their best friend regardless and that they are going to do everything in their power to help him.
Sirius telling Remus that everyone in this room loves him no matter what, hugging him tighter and wiping off his tears as Remus calms down.
James and Sirius cutting back on their pranks to spend more time in the Library to try and help Remus.
James and Sirius finding an old book on Animagi in the restricted section one night under James’ cloak.
James and Sirius starting the process of becoming Animagi, all for Remus.
James and Sirius finding it hilarious when they put spiders in the girls dorm. Until Marlene catches them laughing about it in the common room and her and Lily hex all the boys into next week.
James again asking Sirius to stay at his for the summer, knowing full well that Sirius relationship with his parents and his brother had deteriorated even further, after spending countless waking up to hear Sirius crying in his sleep, only to push him over and hold him until the nightmare passed.
Sirius again not wanting to, but saying know, hoping desperately that maybe this summer, he could try and reconnect with his brother, but promising to meet up with James in Diagon Alley every fortnight instead.
James and Sirius barely saying a word to each other on the Platform, because Walburga has a tight hold on her son’s shoulder and refuses to let him even speak to James. Sirius making a show however, of running up to hug Peter, a display that earns him a slap on the back of the head.
James and Sirius laughing about it after, though James can see the pain of the summer has taken it’s toll on Sirius.
James and Sirius spending their first term back wrecking as much havoc in the halls as possible.
James and Sirius setting Severus’s robes on fire after he made Peter’s cauldron explode, making it rain in the corridors, making the suits of armour line up and do the can-can one dinner time, setting of dung-bombs in the Divination classroom, and deciding that the bat bogey-hex was their new corridor favourite.
James and Sirius spending at least two nights a week in detention.
James forcing Sirius to spend Christmas with his family after a particularly nasty letter from Sirius’ parents arrive.
Sirius having the best Christmas of his life at the Potters. Sirius realising what a happy family looked like.
James and Sirius making real progress on their journey to become Animagi, despite a few slip ups, like the leafs being swallowed three times by someone Peter.
James and Sirius still annoying the hell out of Lily Evans, James especially, with his constant teasing and massive, Quidditch fuelled ego, she couldn’t think of anyone more loathsome. Their seeming hatred for her friend Severus also frustrates her no end and her and Sirius have many arguments about it.
James and Sirius pulling even more pranks on their fellow students, calling McGonagall ‘Minnie’ just to see her suppress a laugh before giving them detention.
James again inviting Sirius to stay for the summer.
Sirius saying yes, having come to terms with the fact that his entire family hates him and treats him like an outcast.
James and Sirius having their summer together be more fun the could imagine, but it only lasting one week before Walburga and Orion storm in to collect their evasive son. The screaming match between the three could be heard throughout the entire house and it ripped James heart up to hear Sirius scream.
James being able to find his best friend on the train that September, until he spots Sirius sat miserably in a carriage with the Slytherins, snarling at their rude remarks and crunching his knuckles and he listens to them joke about dead Muggleborns.
Sirius seeing James through the window, feeling his heart skip and umping to his feet knowing full well that the Slytherins have been told to tell his mother is Sirius didn’t stay exactly here he was put.
James and Sirius running off together as the older Slytherins chase them down the train until they decide to climb out the window and onto the roof.
James and Sirius returning to their carriage with Remus and Peter, windswept and in shock. they would never tell the other two what happened when they tried to escape, and it remains a secret to this day.
James and Sirius now having a whole year to prank, hex, jinx, charm their way through, charming teachers and flirting unapologetic ally the whole time.
James and Sirius knowing that this year had to be better though, better and bigger, it had to mean more. So on top of all their usual antics, they did many other things.
James and Sirius snuck out to spend a night roaming Hogsmeade
James and Sirius snuck out to go into muggle London and see one of Sirius’ favourite punky bands perform live for Sirius’ birthday. It was Remus’ idea.
James and Sirius’ hormones really began to kick in, and they stared noticing girls more. This was the year they both had their first proper kisses. James had pecked girls before on dares from Sirius and Peter, but this was the first time he had really kissed someone he fancied, it was a pretty Ravenclaw and James wouldn’t stop boasting about it for the next week. Sirius was even worse, he would go around snogging anyone he thought was worth his time, and that was basically everyone. He was effortlessly handsome and puberty had served him well, so he basically went after any boy or girl he liked the look of. He wasn’t as much of a bragger as he was a show-off, dramatically snogging people in the common room or and unlocked cupboard.
James and Sirius both sending ‘Mcgoggles’ valentines.
James and Sirius still annoying Lily Evans and going after Severus, but now James seems to also be shamelessly going after the redhead, much to Sirius’ amusement as James get either hexed or harshly rejected every times.
James and Sirius getting even closer to becoming Animagi, now they just had to wait to a lightening storm, which didn’t look like it was coming anytime soon as it was almost summer again.
James and Sirius enjoying their year of reckless behaviour and breezy love lives.
James and Sirius setting a new record for detentions in one year.
James and Sirius realising they need a way of finding and talking to each other when they aren’t together to prepare for the coming summer.
James and Sirius charming two mirrors.
James not bothering to ask Sirius to come to stay, Walburga had made it very clear that she wasn’t even going to allow Sirius to come home on the train and he was to leave on the last day of school by carriage with his mother.
Sirius wishing no more than ever that he could just stay with James at school all summer, but they have the mirrors now, so maybe it will be bearable.
James and Sirius being more than best friends, more than close.
James and Sirius being brothers that could never be separated, not by blood, not by space.
‘Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter’
Brontide is the low rumbling of distant thunder. Set in the same universe as this ice mechanic drabble. Also inspired by @queenofchildren‘s cowboy!Bellamy, because that reminded me how much I love small town fics.
“It’s going to rain,” Roan warned her when walked past him in the living room of Gina’s B&B. He was ensconced in front of the fire, cozy with a book, but she was going to go nuts if she stayed inside much longer no matter how nice Gina was.
“I’m taking an umbrella,” she said with an eyeroll. It was his stupid fault she was stuck in this town anyway— he’d wheedled her into coming to Echo’s wedding as his “girlfriend” (in exchange for him dealing with his mother the next time she got it into her head to be the world’s biggest pain-in-the-ass-boss, and in addition to him paying for the entire weekend)– and he refused to listen when she pointed out he was shifting like a jackass teenager with his first manual. So now they were stuck in a tiny little town and the only amusement so far was watching Roan try (and fail) to hit on the hot mechanic.
“I’m going to go down to the garage and see how it’s coming along,” he said with would-be nonchalance.
“She’s out of your league,” Clarke said.
“I like a challenge,” he replied mildly.
Clarke rolled her eyes at him again and left, turning right at the end of the block on a whim. She didn’t have her phone with her, but Arkadia was all of six blocks wide and four blocks long— she couldn’t get lost.
But ten minutes later, just as the thunder that had been rumbling in the distance grew louder, Clarke looked up at the street sign and frowned. She was on the corner of Maple and Oak, and she was sure that was where Gina’s was, but…nothing looked familiar. She was debating between going right and left and the sky opened up above her. Clarke squealed and tried to open the umbrella, but it was stuck. She darted for the nearest awning while she wrestled with it, but it stubbornly refused to open. “Goddammit,” she swore, and hit it against the railing in frustration.
“Do you have a vendetta against all umbrellas, or just that one in particular?” a voice behind her asked.
Clarke spun to find a man in a maroon sweater watching her in amusement. He was handsome, with dark, curly hair and a sharp jawline that reminded her of the sheriff’s deputy the night Roan’s car broke down. “This one in particular,” she said with a rueful smile. “I’m—”
“Clarke, I know,” he supplied. “This town isn’t exactly big, and it’s my sister who found you guys stranded the other night. Your boyfriend’s car is going to pay for Raven’s next three mortgage payments, by the way.”
Clarke sighed, because really, she was sick of correcting people. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just work friends.”
“Work friends that go to weddings together?”
“I’m sorry, is there a hotline in this town?”
“Yes, but you don’t get access to it until you’ve lived here three years,” he threw back. “Here, come in out of the rain. These storms don’t last long, but it’s four blocks back to Gina’s and you’ll be soaked.”
Clarke followed him into the red brick building and looked around. “Library?” she guessed, because it was full of books but she didn’t see a register anywhere, and it had a general air of lived-in-ness that bookstores never quite achieved.
“And historical society. That part’s upstairs,” he said. “And I’m Bellamy, by the way.”
Clarke dropped her useless umbrella to the ground and shook out her hair. “I’d introduce myself, but I think that’s pointless by now.”
“It is,” he laughed. “Want a cup of coffee while you wait?”
The library was empty, so she nodded and waited while he disappeared in the back for a minute. The mug said Arkadia Historical Society and Clarke asked how he ended up running both a library and historical society, and he made her explain just how she got roped into pretending to be Roan’s girlfriend for a weekend.
“According to my sister, that’s like, a guaranteed way to fall in love,” he laughed.
“That only works in movies and romance novels,” she said with a grin. “And I love a good fake-dating story, but that’s just not me and Roan.”
Bellamy arched a brow and god, why was everyone in this town so attractive? “No? What’s this one then? Mysterious stranger blows into town and upsets everything?”
Clarke echoed his tone. “Something like that. Depends, really.”
“On whether or not the handsome librarian is single.”
For a beat, Clarke wondered if she’d gone too far, but then he grinned. “I like the sound of that,” he said.
Part of Clarke wanted to lean forward and kiss him right then, but the sun was breaking through the clouds and she still had at least two more days to go in this town, so she saw no point in needlessly rushing things. Instead, she straightened. “I should get going,” she said breezily. “I’ll see you around, Bellamy.”
He watched her pick up her umbrella and licked his lips. “Count on it.”
I can’t believe this is an Unpopular Opinion™ but I was honestly so annoyed when Ginny tells Hermione, ‘Don’t start acting as though you understand Quidditch, you’ll only embarrass yourself.’ Literally the very first thing Hermione did back when the trio first became friends was lend Harry a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. She then proceeded to set Snape on fire because because she thought he cursed Harry’s Nimbus 2000. For Harry’s thirteenth birthday, she gets him a broom servicing kit. In the match against Hufflepuff in the thick rain, Hermione appears out of nowhere and charms Harry’s glasses to repel water. When she made Ron’s timetable, she gave him evenings off every week for Quidditch practice and encouraged him every time he felt low. That very year she confunded Mclaggen during try-outs because he was talking shit about Ron and Ginny. So yeah Hermione Jean Granger understands Quidditch pretty damn well and that was unnecessarily petty.
Request: Could you maybe write a one shot based on the song Secret Love Song Pt.ll by Little Mix? -Anon
AN: God I suck. Okay. Bonus points to anyone who catches my Hamilton reference.
Some moments that exist in between the span of seconds, a blink or a flicker of light. A whisper of breath on the ear, a ghost of lips on skin, or the touch of a hand in passing. These moments were invisible, captured and released like butterflies in the wind. These moments were small and insignificant in the grand scheme of life. They were no more noticed than a bead of sweat on the brow or a speck of dust on the windowsill. But they impacted you like a car crash. Those whispers of breath became violent winds, the ghost of lips were the sun, the touch of a hand was a promise.
Prompt: Hi I was wondering if you could do a Bellamy x reader imagine where he says really harsh and hurtful things to her because he misinterprets something that she did and tells her to leave camp and she doesn’t say anything but accepts it and she leaves and he finds out that she did what she did to protect him because she loves him and then he looks for her and he find that she’s hurt. Sorry it’s so long 😁 but you’re writing is amazing and you have a way with words that I could never muster
I’ve done this a little differently than most of my imagines, here I’m going back on forth from PoV’s. I think it works with this particular prompt.
Characters: Bellamy Blake, Octavia Blake.
Pairing: Bellamy x reader
Warnings: Bad language.
“You stole from us, your fucking friends.” Bellamy hisses in your face, his anger building up to the point where he could barely contain it. Hot pink cheeks where speckled with rain drops from the impending shower, a vein prominent at the side of his forehead. Both indications that Bellamy was nearing rage.
“I’m sorry.” You reply simply, wringing your hands as he stares you down with gritted teeth. Keeping your eyes firmly on the ground you try not to allow them to fill with tears. It was heartbreaking knowing that Bellamy was disappointed in you.
“You should be sorry. I don’t know why I ever thought you could be more than a dirty thief.” He sneers, hitting you where he knew it would hurt. It was a low blow, stealing having been why you were put in the Skybox in the first place, and Bellamy knew that calling you a thief would sting.
All you do is sniffle in reply, nodding in agreement to what he had said. Bellamy pauses, waiting for you to defend yourself, but it doesn’t come. Sighing, he turns to the guards at the entrance and waves at them to open the gates to which they promptly comply. With frightened eyes you look over toward the open gate and then back to Bellamy, who now has his arms folded across his shoulders in a guarded stance.
“You’re banished.” He announces, his tone quiet and dejected but also stern. Clearly he was hurting, and you’d done that to him.
Nodding once again you walk toward the exit, Jasper handing you your bag back as you go. No one says a word, all too full with shock to speak.
Tears along with rain spill down your face as you walk around the forest looking for shelter, eventually finding a cave and setting up camp for the night. You build yourself a fire and decide to go out hunting because you’d be getting hungry soon.
“What the fuck do you mean it was you.” Bellamy growls, sounding more dangerous and furious than O had ever heard before.
“I’m sorry, Bellamy.” Octavia tries, Bellamy looks away in disgust. “But I didn’t know you’d throw her out of camp! I needed the medicine box, I need the pain pills for my detox… She was just coving for me, I didn’t know she’d be banished for it.” She continues, her voice pleading. But Bellamy doesn’t want to hear it. He’s banished you for something his sister has done. You were trying to protect him from finding out the truth and he’d fucking sent you to be captured or killed.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Bellamy gruffs as the walks out of O’s tent, out into the heart of the camp.
With a booming voice he calls out “Re-con mission.” and a group gathers around him, waiting to hear what was going on. “Y/n’s innocent. We need to go out and find her, bring her back here. And we need to do it before nightfall. I need volunteers to come with me.”
Catching rabbits was a lot harder than Bellamy had made it look, but after an hour or so you’d caught one. As you were making your way back to camp with your dinner, however, you accidentally set off one of the grounder traps and almost got your head cut off. Instead when you saw the blade coming toward you, you stumbled back and fell backwards down a small slump. Rolling to the bottom you immediately grab your ankle, sharp pains running through the muscles.
You’d twisted it. Great.
“Two west, two east. Two north, I’ll go south.”
“I’ll go with you, Bellamy.” Clarke offers worriedly.
“I want to be on my own right now.” He replies blatantly, too fouced on the task at hand to be nice to the princess.
The team dispatch and Bellamy begins to make his way south. It didn’t take long to find a trail of human footprints leading away from camp.
Standing was not an option, as you had realised from several painful attempts. Which meant that you could only shuffle and crawl your way back to your cold, lonely cave. First the boy you love banishes you and now you’ve got a twisted (or possibly broken, considering the pain you were in) ankle.
“Why me, God?”
“Because you’re stupid enough to admit to a crime you didn’t commit.” A voice replies, causing your eyes to snap up, seeing a wet and miserable look Bellamy Blake standing above you.
“I was protecting Octavia.”
“No, you were protecting me from being forced to banish O. You put my feelings before your own.”
“Well… Yeah.” You mumble, realising that Bellamy must be able to see the amount of love you had for him in your actions and wondering if he reciprocated them.
Bellamy carefully steps down the slump and comes to your side, looking at you for a couple of seconds before putting his attention on your ankle. He inspects it with gentle hands while you watch him, just thankful that he’d come looking for you.
“Fractured, I think. Clarke will be able to tell.”
“I’m allowed to come back?” You ask in joy.
“Don’t be stupid.” Bellamy grunts, leaning down to scoop you up in his arms. You cling onto him, afraid he’ll drop you. “Relax, I’ve got you.” He promises softly, holding you close to him as he begins to walk. You wrap your arms around his neck. “How could you let me bark at you like that, nevermind let me banish you from camp?” He asks.
“I would have been banished if I didn’t take the fall. And I didn’t want that for you.” You answer him honestly. Bellamy stops in his tracks, shuts his eyes tight and groans.
“I’m a horrible boyfriend.”
Immediately your eyebrows shoot up at his wording and you say “Boyfriend?” with a sly grin on your face. At the Bellamy opens his eyes and looks at you for a second, unashamed.
“Yeah. That okay with you?” He questions, trying to sound manly as he does but his heart races in his chest as the words pour out.
“I’ll deal with it.” You reply with a grin, causing Bellamy to nod firmly. The both of you are secretly elated but trying to play it cool. This day had been coming for a long time.
“Good. Let’s get going to the Deopship, I’ve gotta kick my sister’s ass to the Ark and back.”
As they wait to go on their next mission, the team splits up for some rest. Napoleon and Illya end up in the same apartment, which leads to some misunderstandings, some reflections, and later, some sleep.
Illya yawned again, his stern face relaxing. “Your country has a saying about that…”
“It’s British. But satisfaction brought him back - that’s American.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Waverly says, almost kindly. “No one saw it coming.”Illya looks down at him, surprised and perhaps a little condescending, because he knows better than to blame himself, and he doesn’t understand why Waverly thinks he would. Solo is good at what he does, one of the best, and Illya has always been more than aware that Solo could trick him if he really set his mind to it.No, Illya does not blame himself for not seeing the signs. If there is anything he should blame himself for, it is that he let himself assume that he wouldn’t have to look for them in the first place. But socialism is a future-oriented ideology, and there is no point in dwelling on the past. Illya has made a mistake, is all. He is not going to make it again.
Napoleon had really hoped to never have to go through a thing like this again. Being strapped once to an electric chair was trauma enough. The last time, he’d had nightmares for weeks after the fact, not that he would ever have told a soul.
“Hold down that button long enough,” the voice continues, “And your partner will die.”
It takes a second for the significance of the man’s words to register. Napoleon stills.
“We’re good friends,” Napoleon admits, and he can’t help the edge of bitterness that slips into his voice. Illya hadn’t precisely held a gun to his head when Napoleon made that concession, but it doesn’t stop the indignant fury that arises at the memory. His anger is mostly directed at himself, for not realising in time that Illya would turn Napoleon’s own questions against him, for not knowing when to leave well enough alone, and for shattering his hope with reality before he really even got the chance to dream.
But Gaby doesn’t know any of that, and it’s better to let her come to her own conclusions about why Napoleon is annoyed.
“I just don’t see why he’s making such a fuss over this particular mission,” Napoleon continues, recalcitrant.
“That is a good plan,” Illya admits, as if he can’t quite believe those words just left his mouth directed at that American. He lowers his gun. “I could kiss you, Cowboy.”
And he knows it’s an expression, one he’s not exactly sure Illya picked up. And he knows the law back home, and what trouble someone like him could get in doing something like this with someone who wasn’t down. But he also knows his own silver tongue, and if he could talk his way out of his own death, Napoleon Solo could talk his way out of this.
“You could, you know.”
Or, what happened between Illya trashing his hotel room and the two of them chilling on the balcony.
When it boiled down to the bare elements, Napoleon had always lacked the ability to treat serious things with the respect they deserved, and Illya was nothing if not serious.
A serious person and a serious relationship right from their stumbled attempts at friendship through to the nebulous lines surrounding loyalty, lust, love. He had never known where they stood because he refused to quantify his own emotions. How could he begin to comprehend Illya’s when he was so far in denial about the sheer extent of his own? He had wasted years in that same manner; denying, joking, maintaining a front of shallow interest, of want founded solely in carnal gratification.
His time had long since run out and now all he had was an undeserved sacrifice, a cracked veneer, and a paraphrased line from a 17th century poem.
In the first month of being co-opted into working with Illya Kuryakin full time at U.N.C.L.E., Napoleon stole Illya’s father’s watch four times, twice out of spite, once out of drunken curiosity, and once out of sheer boredom. After the fourth time, Gaby sprained one of Napoleon’s fingers and threatened to do worse if he did it again.
“You are not a spy,” she told him firmly, dangling the watch out of reach as Napoleon curled in a wincing, fetal position on his Le Corbusier couch in his upstate apartment. “You are a thief with the self-control of a child. Now give me back my ring.”
“What ring?” Napoleon asked innocently, even through the pain.
“How fond are you of your nose?” Gaby shot back blandly.
Napoleon bent over the table, letting his forehead rest upon the cool wood, trying to sort his thoughts. He’d lost partners – friends, even – in the field before. He didn’t know that he would call Illya a friend – but he wouldn’t not call him a friend, either. The sight of his red blood pooling on the white leather of that backseat had unnerved Napoleon in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
(In which Napoleon takes a long time to come to an understanding of a very simple thing.)
Greed, and lust, those were the two sins that defined Napoleon Solo, and Illya Kuryakin aroused the two precise desires in Napoleon he never chose to resist. With his stoic gaze and chiseled jawline, Kuryakin was as beautiful and inscrutable as a Greek statue, and Napoleon had never been one to leave works of art undefiled.
It’s not that you don’t think about dying. You know with a clear certainty that yes, it may well kill you. But the part where your mind trips over itself is in the possibility, the uncertainty behind an inevitable eventuality.
Yes, it might all end terribly, just maybe not today.
Napoleon looks awful in the dimly-lit room, pale face slightly elevated above even paler sheets, a tube running into one arm. Carrying the fluids hospitals love, and the alleged antidote, and something else entirely to counteract the nasty chemistry that occurs when poison meets poison.
Illya, angry, is about as subtle as a wall to the face; Napoleon knows this because he’s seen Illya angry, and he’s taken a wall to the face, two incidents which occurred in very quick succession, and has been forever unable to separate them since. Illya focused is something else entirely. Rain, and eight inches of steel, and the sound that it had made coming out of the sheath: in retrospect, Napoleon had been moderately concussed at the time, most likely, but he deals in illusions, in the setting of a scene, and the blocking had stuck.
Illya has heard the stories, been taught the tales since his childhood. He has been warned of the degenerates who will entice and corrupt unsuspecting young men toward irredeemable sin, who will go against nature and turn their lust against their own people, those without morals or care for the innocents they will one day destroy.
He is trained to see the signs, to heed the warnings before its too late and he is swallowed whole. Illya is someone who knows better than most, and when he first steps out into the world after a childhood built on perseverance, he thinks he is prepared. He will never fall victim.
Prompt: Takes place immediately after Illya saves Napoleon from The Chair. Sure, he’s able to walk away from it but that much electricity coursing through your body will definitely cause some lingering problems. Like the fact that Napoleon has a hard time catching his breath, is experiencing heart palpitations, chest pain, dizziness, and basically just having a bit of a hard time recovering from the electrical torture he was just put through. Illya is desperate to rescue Gaby but also realizes that his partner isn’t doing so hot either. Cue him being all awkwardly worried and not sure what to do but (surprisingly) not willing to just leave Napoleon behind.
Exactly what it says on the tin. Telling you any more than the tags say would spoil things.
i’m with you by el3anorrigby [4,300 words] *mcd* (THIS FIC D E ST R O Y E D ME AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH BYE)
Illya hated the way they’d become, formal, cold and stiff. They weren’t like this before. Perhaps the only time they’d acted like this had been the first time they’d met. The one where they realise love, but they’re just a little too late.
Summary: Thorin doesn’t want the others to see how awful he’s actually feeling, but Bilbo notices almost straight away. How does one make a sick king feel better? Body heat, of course.
A/N: Title taken from tinylilremus‘s song Dragons. You should all listen to it because it’s so unbelievably good and I’m obsessed.
Words: 1 031
Thorin knew he wasn’t being fair. The rain had been pouring down since early in the morning, leaving them all soaking wet, cold, and exhausted. Yet Thorin still insisted that they keep going, and it wasn’t until both Dwalin and Balin, who rarely complained too much, voiced their concerns for the tenth time in an hour that Thorin decided to let them all take cover in a cave. A fire was set up instantly, and they all just sat around for a while, too tired to do much else just yet.
It’s not a private moment, although he thinks it probably should be, Clarke just hands Abby a pair of shears she’s produced from somewhere, and sits down at the edge of camp. The firelight accentuates her cheekbones and the strange hollowness of her eyes that Bellamy has seen her fight against over the past week; it catches the gold of her hair that hangs down, dreaded but still beautiful, he thinks. When Abby lifts the first gathered lock of it tentatively in her hand, Bellamy knows what’s going to happen and has to look away as his stomach does a funny little roll.
He gets it. He wouldn’t want to fight through the tangled mess that Clarke’s hair became in her sojourn. The week after she left, he had forgotten to shower until Octavia and Lincoln had practically dragged him to the showers and doused him in warm water. After, Octavia had sat behind him and carefully worked out the worst of the snarls in his hair with a comb, like their mother had done for them both when they were still small. And his hair had been short.
Still, Clarke’s hair is one of the last vestiges he feels like he can recognize. Yeah, it’s dreaded and tangled and has dashes of pink he doesn’t get, but it’s her. Her clothes, her mannerisms, even her eyes… they’ve all changed in the three months she had been gone, and while he knows Clarke, maybe better sometimes than he wants to admit, understands on a primal level what she’s been through, he struggles to find his balance with her, now that the constant push forward in defeating ALIE is over.
Kíli: And we’re here to give you the weather report for Middle Earth.
Fíli: Today’s forecast calls for a fifty percent chance of showers in the morning with skies clearing by late afternoon.
Kíli: Tonight, skies will be partly cloudy with mild temperatures in the upper 50s.
Fíli: Tomorrow, you can look forward to a one-hundred percent chance of a snow job as a cold front moves in from Mirkwood. Expect Erebor to be at optimum levels of powder for all you skiers out there.
Kíli: Expect a volcanic eruption shortly after lunch as Mount Thorin will erupt and rain fire and brimstone upon the land sending rivers of molten lava into Laketown and the vicinity surrounding it because Thranduil angered him and he must be punished.
Fíli: Are we done here, Brother?
Kíli: Yeah, I think so, Brother.
Thorin: Why did I have to bring them with me? I could have just left them at home, couldn’t I?
ok but an xma-crew au in present day
im not talking about their fight w/ apo im talking abt them being dorks in present day
• pietro listens to p!atd and pretends he doesn’t listen to taylor swift and dresses like a total hipster he is wearing space vans right now please stop him and also he’s super gay and the only people he’s told is his close group of friends but everyone can tell he’s gay bc he looks at kurt like he’s the sun and everyone totally knows they’re secretly dating and he uses his speed on the swim team because he got disqualified from track. he’s not quite as fast in the water but he loves it so much because he can finally actually compete with others in a speed-related event and once he even got second he’s actually really happy about that and the silver trophy he got is next to his bed
• kurt is so accepted and he’s so happy abt it? also he’s a really good gymnast and wears a flower crown everywhere and button down pastel shirts and he’s such a cutie and everyone has a crush on him and warren is really upset bc he used to be the star gymnast at the school but this new guy is here now and he’s really cute and that’s totally unfair and kurt doesn’t really notice how infatuated everyone is with him and he’s such a dork
• jean is openly pan she wears shirts that say “im punsexual” and “im attracted to kitchenware” and she dyed her hair in a fire ombré and wears ripped jeans with chains and motorcycle boots and literally everyone wants her she’s the one person in the school that everyone wants to be as confident as but really she’s so scared she’ll let them down and has anxiety
• scott tries to pretend he’s not bi by loudly proclaiming his relationship w/ jean all the time even though everyone can see him staring when warren walks past him and he wears t-shirts w/ rock bands on them and tries to be punk but he can’t be because everyone knows he snorts when he laughs and he set his hair on fire in honors chemistry once but he tries so hard he even had hank make a pair of quartz sunglasses that had spikes on them but he’s not fooling anyone
• ororo is an amazing soccer (football for non-americans sorry) player and she has her white fluffy mohawk that everyone loves touching and she’s openly a lesbian but ppl don’t even care as long as she keeps being their star player and after every game she makes it rain so the team can get washed off and when she kisses jubilee on the sidelines there’s lightning and nobody really knows which one of them it was from but they’re so cute and everyone’s shipping them so they’re not rly scared about the thunderstorm ororo has created w/ her wild teenage hormones
• jubilee is kinda the stereotypical loud popular cheerleader, but she’s really caring and loves making people smile with her powers and her words and she has depression and all of her friends constantly tell her how much they love her because she’s scared they’ll leave her. she makes fireworks after ororo’ big game and ororo pins her against the bleachers and tells her that she loves her between every kiss
• warren is an amazing gymnast but when kurt shows up and is better he’s really mad and also mad that he is so attracted to him he secretly loves him just kidding it’s not a secret anyone can tell except kurt. he tries so hard to be punk and scott is the only one that actually thinks he’s punk and totally has a crush on him and jean thinks it’s really cute and teases scott abt it and warren doesn’t notice and he’s so insecure and thinks nobody loves him
• betsy is the really hardcore all-black-leather knee-high-studded-boots girl who is a black belt in taekwondo and takes fencing lessons and she and warren are absolute best friends and everyone is so confused that they aren’t dating already they spend all of their time together but warren doesn’t think he’s good enough for her even through she tells him so all the time. she’s actually really protective and loyal once you get to know her but she keeps up her don’t-touch-me attitude because she’s afraid of getting hurt
• erik is the physics teacher that doesn’t give much homework but has insanely hard tests and charles is the funny and nice psychology teacher that explains everything perfectly for every learning style and all his students love his class. they try to pretend they’re not dating but one time a student went to ask charles a question and found him pinning erik to a desk and they both absolutely deny that happened but the student spread it all around the school
• hank is the precious, tries-too-hard chemistry teacher that makes dumb jokes and everyone loves him and raven is the biology teacher that’s normally really nice, if a little bit sharp sometimes, but when she gets mad, get out of her way. everyone ships them but there’s no proof they’re dating. they are though.
• i am in love with this au please someone join me in this hell i love modern day x men
I have a fever and I can't sleep :( heal me w ur adorable writing pls
Oooooh, no!! Anon, I hope you get better :( And I hope these sick!headcanons take your mind off of it:
So parents get sick a lot. So do teachers starting at a new elementary school. If you’re going to be around grubby children, you’re going to get sick. Now I know Peter has a pretty badass healing factor, but it’s been shown that he can get sick if he runs himself down enough - and he is always running himself into exhaustion - so please consider:
Peter donning the suit and running head first into the rain to fight a super-villain. Peter who’s voice comes across nasally and slow on the comms, who moves like he’s underwater, who is pinging all of Tony’s internal warnings. After the super-villain is downed, Tony drags Peter back to his apartment in the hopes of shoving him at his Aunt and letting her confine him to bed rest, but nope, no, Peter also failed to mention that his Aunt is currently on an overnight trip out of the city.
So Tony shuffles Peter into his bed. He’s running a pretty bad fever. And so this leads to Tony taking control of this humble apartment to look after a sick moron who got himself sicker by fighting a super-villain in the rain, honestly. Tony with his designer suit jacket thrown haphazardly on the couch, expensive sleeves rolled to his elbows, tech set up on the dining table as he rifles through kitchen cupboards and listens to his AI list off cures and symptoms and consequences (”DEATH?” Tony hisses over the sound of running tap water, a glass half full in his hands. His AI continues, “Yes, death has historically been a common result of the flu–” And Tony is just. Nope. No. “You be quiet, or I will fire you.”)
This billionaire fussing over Peter because he has no idea how sicknesses work on children/super-powered people, and he can’t just leave him, and oh, god–
Peter is fine. Though he does secretly enjoy it through the haze of fever. He usually has pretty bad nightmares when he has a fever, but he doesn’t this time around. It’s nice. It’s sweet. It’s hilarious hearing Tony swear and get annoyed with all the different flu medicines May keeps stocked. At one point, Tony gets chicken soup delivered to their apartment.
But Peter’s fever breaks and Aunt May comes home. And Tony gives her an unnecessarily long list of Peter’s symptoms and everything he’s taken and a number for his private doctor that they are more than welcome to use–
She shuffles him off. Peter gets better quickly and is back to web slinging in no time.
And Tony? Tony experiences what every parent with a sick child will experience. The secondhand flu.
“He’s not even my kid, what the actual shit, I want a do-over, a fair trail, a–”
Aunt May laughs when she finds out. She makes vegetable soup and hands Peter a thermos and shoos him off to Stark Tower to deliver the stuff. And then it’s Peter’s turn to play nursemaid.
Three sips and I’ll soar, you won’t be able to reach me anymore. I’ll stumble through the night, tripping over my recklessness.
I love the sky. So why would you expect me to come back down? When I’m up here its bliss. It is dreamy and warm. A false sense of safety is what gets me through my nights.
Floating, or stuck in time. I can’t tell the difference. It all tastes like honey. It coats my throat. I have blisters on my tongue because I haven’t taught myself when enough is enough. I am greedy. I always need more.
Ramblings of a nineteen year old girl who can’t picture herself living past 29. I feel smothered by my own self. The truth is I’m in love with this planet - I love the sunset, the mountains. I love the rain storms, the blizzards. The truth sickens me.
I’ll leave one day eventually anyway - this is inevitable. And I’m terrified because all these promises now feel like lies, and all my ambition has buried itself deeper than the oceans floor.
Small things are beautiful to me - butterflies, headlights, freckles. I try to hold on to these things as I set myself on fire.
I’m terrified to live and terrified to die - I curse God. How could he put me in this position?
It all starts on an impulse. You never plan to let it get this far. But it cradles you to sleep, and you are so lonely.
Summary: She felt him looking at her all day, but she wouldn’t be the first to apologize.
Her husband had been watching her all day.
His eyes had been caressing her since she had woken up that
morning, his nostrils flaring in alarm when she sat up to watch him quietly.
When it was obvious that neither of them was going to say anything to the
other, he grunted as he tossed the reed mat away from the entrance to leave
their home, leaving a slight chill in his tracks.
Well fine, if he wanted to be that way.
It seemed their heated discussion from a few days before was
leaking into today and she was getting very good at pretending that she didn’t
care. She dressed in her warmest robes and began with the day’s chores just
like any other.
Her feet left imprints in the packed snow, and she traced
her footsteps with those that Inuyasha had marked previously. It was stupid, but
the small act, her feet meeting where his were before, brought her a bit of
peace. It was the closest she had gotten to him since the argument. She continued
until the footsteps disappeared into the depths of the forest and she stood
there at the awning of the trees. After a few seconds of toying with the idea
of confronting his anger, she rolled her eyes and made a sharp left, finding the
main patchwork of a street that crossed towards the market.
If he wanted to be this stubborn, she knew how to play that game too.
After all, the fight was entirely his fault.
She could visit the homes of men if it meant to treat their
injuries, it made no difference that they
were single and flirtatious. She knew how to handle herself! And she had told
him so, in so many words, laced with venom and anger.
And he had flipped those bitter words right back at her,
invisible lashes against her lungs as they took her breath away. She had
forgotten how angry he could get, forgotten how easily he could dismantle her
So she had made sure to let him know he was not to sleep by her side
on the bed that night.
Warring States AU for Ryuushi, Her boys end up coming through either in an attempt to save her or a really shitty summon was done again. I just want her boys on the battle field super confused and also unable to get back home because they don't know shit about sealing. Kisame knows sharingan tricks, like how to fuck with them because of being a partner to the second to last one, and Zabuza just picks Ryuushi up and doesn't set her back down cause he is sick of her going missing.
It took me forever, but I did it. I wrote the thing. Here they are, the Kiri no Kaijuu, back in time, fucking shit up and pissing people off.
Okay I just really need to talk about these two panels, in contrast with each other?
Because the first one is the last panel from 10.9, when Bitty is feeling the worst about the situation. When he’s saying the words that made the entire fandom basically set ourselves on fire while screaming.
The view on him is so much more tightly focused, and it feels almost tense, and it’s raining, & Señor Bunny is peeking out, because he needs that comfort, and he feels hemmed in, almost trapped, comparatively.
Now cut to the other panel, the fourth one of 10.10, right after Jack & Bitty finally yell at each other, after the panel that was a view through his closet door, this fourth panel where they both express the thing they were most afraid/concerned about…
When they’ve gone from being afraid & not talking, and Jack being so worried & Bitty trying to be strong… To getting it out there. Laying it on the table.
And they still have so far to go, but they’re airing this. That’s good, because it means now they can work on what to do about it. They can move forward on it, together. As a team, the way Jack says, later in the update.
There’s a beat of silence, another. The space of a few breaths, as they both realize a few things, and they’re still both talking at once, they arent 100% there yet…
But now look at the second frame. Bitty is in the same place, the same pose, essentially, but it’s still different. You see more of the Haus, his room, there’s just a little more openness.
It just stopped raining for a moment. The sun is peeking through, but even more significant, there’s something else, too.
Bitty’s closet door is cracked open, just a little bit.
So I was going to reply to this post by @skipsupport3 with a reblog, except that reblogging the chat posts things goes way wonky. So, new post with actual formatting, have at ye.
There are many things Graves loves about Newt, ranging from his complete devotion to his creatures all the way to how fantastically sexy he looks with his wand out and spells flying (particularly when he’s doing it because of said devotion to his creatures, in which case he goes all intense and he sets his jaw just so and sometimes he was in the middle of something else so he’s got his coat off and his sleeves rolled up and unf, take me now. Graves would be embarrassed how much he likes watching Newt rain the eternal fires of justice down on the fuckers that dare upset his creatures, except that he gets to take that ass home and own it and Newt’s always that bit rougher when he’s worked up about things. So. Unf.)
So as Graves was saying, there are many things he loves about Newt, but the thing in particular that he’d like to extol at the moment is Newt’s mouth. It’s just. It’s so pretty. It’s slightly lopsided, and it laughs and frowns and the sides quirk up into the most adorable little half-smiles, and the lips are pink and just a bit chapped and the tongue that darts out to wet them every sentence or two is red and there’s this little smear of chocolate muffin just in the very corner.
It’s a very distracting mouth, that’s all Graves is saying.
“… are you even listening to me?” Newt asks. “Because I’ve been telling you how elephants are actually baby nifflers for quite a while now and you’ve just nodded and looked dopey.”
“Fascinating,” Graves nods obligingly, and Newt whaps him with the muffin.
“Graves! Have I got something on my face or what?”
And Graves is an opportunist. That counts as an opening. So instead of waving at the smear of chocolate muffin and doing that whole “You’ve got a little… just there… yeah that’s got it” schtick, he holds Newt’s chin still with one hand and reaches across the table to lick the offending smear off. Mm, chocolate and Newt. Good combination.
“Not anymore,” he says smugly.
Newt glares at him, resolutely takes the messiest bite of muffin it’s humanly possible to take (he may even have used magic to achieve quite that many crumbs, Graves isn’t sure), and asks, “How about now?”
Graves’ answer to that is to apparate the both of them to the bedroom because that’s too much chocolate to deal with with a table in the way.