#like everything i write

[violets-bouquet]

It's funny how all of Sanji's ships, if they were women, it would be Sanji's fantasy.

Which is funny, because Sanji probably spends his days peacefully daydreaming about women and imagining his fellow crew members as women. (He would probably put them on a beauty scale or something like that).

But then he simply wakes up from his daydream and remembers that the women he fantasizes about are just his male friends and colleagues... But women (ᵕ—ᴗ—).

[alicksvibes]

am i ambitious enough to start another michie fic while writing my current one

[cloudwhisper23]

Surprise! I started another fic! Uh, yeah. This one wasn't entirely my idea, however. It's more of a crossover between two people here on Tumblr who gave me permission to write their exciting little crossover ideas. So, check them out if you don't already follow them!

@pixlokita and @cookieruma29

Come get your first taste!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[raewrites98]

To live, To learn.

Written for the Malec Secret Santa Exchange!

“Can you hand me the salt, darling?” Magnus asks as he stirs the pot on the stove, one hand reaching out in Alec’s direction.

Alec hands him the small bottle. He types something out on his phone with a huff. “Mom’s going to be late, she’s picking Luke up from the precinct.” He tucks his phone in his pocket and continues chopping up vegetables.

“That’s fine,” Magnus says. He samples the soup with a hum. It’s still a little bland, so he adds salt and a blend of other spices to it. They are in the kitchen preparing for what will hopefully be a successful Christmas Eve dinner. It was Alec’s idea to get everyone together to celebrate the holidays, seeing as they all could use a distraction after the rough few weeks they have had. It hasn’t been all that long since they banished Lilith to the depths of Edom. Since Alec nearly died and Magnus lost his magic.

Magnus stares at the stove, lost in thought. He doesn’t know if this party is a good idea. It doesn’t feel like they have much worth celebrating this year. They may have defeated Lilith in the end, but it feels as if their losses are far greater than their gains. Magnus can’t manage one night without waking up drenched in sweat, shaking with the fear of remembering Alec’s blood under his nails and those short, panicked breaths as the arrowhead sunk deeper into Alec’s chest.

And when it’s not nightmares, it’s the aching absence of his magic that keeps Magnus up at night.

The timer beeps suddenly. Magnus goes through the motions of turning it off and opening the oven on autopilot, so caught up in his thoughts he doesn’t notice how bad his hands are shaking. He reaches for the dish but hits the hot metal rack instead. A sharp burning sensation shoots through his arm and he jerks back with a hiss. The dish clatters to the ground.

“Are you okay?” Alec rushes to his side, sidestepping the mess on the floor. He carefully reaches for Magnus’ hand, his long, calloused fingers inspecting the injury. A bright red shape is rapidly appearing on the skin of Magnus’ palm. No doubt it will start to blister within a few minutes.

Magnus exhales a slow, shaky breath. Tears well up in his eyes – not from the pain, though his hand does sting terribly – but from the sudden rush of emotions that threatens to overwhelm him. It’s all too much. He has spent these past few weeks trying desperately to cope with the loss of his magic, to no avail. Every morning he wakes to an all-consuming ache in his chest, an ache that can’t be filled no matter how hard he tries.

“Hey,” Alec’s voice finally reaches through the storm of Magnus’ emotions. He cradles Magnus’ face in his hands. His eyes are filled with nothing but love and understanding. “It’s okay.”

Magnus leans into Alec’s touch. He closes his eyes when Alec kisses his forehead.

“Let’s take care of your hand,” Alec says. He leads Magnus into the living room and places him on the couch. He comes back with the first-aid kit they keep in the bathroom. He takes his time gently spreading the burn cream on Magnus’ hand and wraps it in a thin layer of gauze to protect it. They sit in silence for a while. Alec plays absentmindedly with Magnus’ rings.

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus whispers. He doesn’t have to elaborate. Alec knows he’s thankful for more than just this, for being his pillar to lean on when the days are rough. For never leaving his side, even when all Magnus does is take his frustrations out on him. For loving Magnus no matter who, or what, he is.

“Of course,” Alec says, as if it’s just that simple. As if loving Magnus is the easiest thing he has ever done. He kisses Magnus’ hand. “Now will you let me help you?” Magnus hasn’t let him do much more than chop vegetables so far, considering the last time they tried to cook together nearly ended in disaster.

Magnus eyes him thoughtfully.  “I don’t know, I’d rather not poison my guests on Christmas Eve.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “It was one time.” He helps Magnus stand. “Besides, that was Izzy’s recipe. If anything, it’s her fault.”

Magnus laughs as he follows Alec into the kitchen. They finish preparing dinner just in time for the first guests to arrive. And if Magnus lets Alec handle most of the cooking, no one mentions it.

                                                        ***

“Have a good night,” Magnus says as he hugs Catarina and Dot goodbye. The door clicks into place behind them. He turns back to face the mess his dining room and kitchen has become. Empty plates and glasses litter nearly every surface. Magnus sighs. He decides to leave the cleaning for later, perhaps tomorrow even.  He sets off to find Alexander instead. “Alec?”

“Out here,” Alec’s voice drifts from the balcony.  Magnus joins him. Stars peek out from behind the patchy clouds in the sky as a sharp breeze pulls at their clothes. A thin layer of snow covers the ledge and windowsills of the surrounding buildings. Somewhere across the street a group of kids are caroling, their voices carried by the wind.

Alec grasps Magnus’ hands, careful of his injury, and pulls him towards the doorway of the balcony. The glass doors have been propped open. The curtains dance in the wind. “Look up,” he says.

Magnus does. A small branch of mistletoe has been hung from the door frame, white round berries gleaming between the glossy leaves. Magnus can’t help the small laugh that leaves his lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just wanted an excuse to kiss me.”

Alec shrugs. He attempts to hide the smile creeping up on him, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gives it away. “It’s tradition, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Magnus says. “Merry Christmas, Alexander,” he adds in a softer tone.

“Merry Christmas.” They kiss soft and slow. After, Alec pulls Magnus into a firm embrace, sighing into his shoulder. “You know I’m always here for you, right?” His words are muffled, but Magnus can hear the uncertainty in his voice.

Some of the tension from earlier bleeds from Magnus’ shoulders. He returns Alec’s embrace with just as much need, fisting his hands into Alec’s shirt. He knows he isn’t the only one affected by his magic loss. Alec is just as devastated, guilt-ridden and struggling to find ways to help. Some days, it feels like Alec’s support is the only thing keeping Magnus from falling apart. “I do,” Magnus whispers. “Thank you.”

The way Alec looks at him has Magnus’ heart fluttering in his chest. “I love you,” he says. His thumb caresses Magnus’ jaw.

“I love you too.” They move to the edge of the balcony, staring out across the skyline. Magnus leans his head on Alec’s shoulder. “Did you have a good evening?” he asks.

Alec hums. He wraps an arm around Magnus’ frame. “I did,” he says. “And you?”

Magnus reminisces on the past evening. He doesn’t think he has ever celebrated Christmas like this before. Sure, he has thrown some of the best Christmas parties in all of New York, but those were only ever meant as a distraction from the loneliness he so often feels around the holidays. December has never been enjoyable for Magnus. It marks the end of yet another year where those around him age while he remains stagnant. He never knew whether to regard his immortality as a curse or a blessing. Perhaps it is a bit of both.

This year is different. This year Magnus is mortal. And that frightens him beyond belief. He doesn’t know how to live without his magic, doesn’t know how to cherish every second of life when he is so used to time being infinite.

Magnus thinks back to the dinner table, to his friends and family surrounded by love and happiness. He remembers Catarina’s smile as she entwined her fingers with Dot’s and Madzie’s heartwarming laughter when Alec twirled her in the air.

He doesn’t know how to live in the moment, but he thinks, perhaps, he can learn. “Yes,” Magnus finally says, warmth kindling in his chest, “Yes I did.”

[fairy-changeling]

So, I just checked in to the thorki big bang and posted my fic warnings - 

Content warnings: Explicit sex, lots of fire, public executions or the threat of, mentions of/implied mpreg, attempted sexual assault. 

[valentine14gurl]

Thinking about Asami and her eventual character downfall....

[lilyoffandoms]

Let Us Go On An Adventure - Desire and Decorum drabble Requested prompt of a drunk Miss Sutton + Miss Parsons (platonic)

“Annabelle, oh Annabelle, I had the most delightful idea.” Miss Sutton approached Annabelle and clung to her arm whispering conspiratorially in the general direction of her ear for all to hear. She was obviously a bit tipsy and in a very good mood and Miss Parsons loved that about Theresa. She was not an angry or prudish drunk but the best the kind, the kind that wanted to have a bit of fun and played into Miss Parsons’ naturally mischievous nature.

Annabelle pulled her to a corner sofa and the two sat close together. If this was another one of drunk Miss Sutton’s ideas, Annabelle knew it was best for as few people to hear them as possible.

“Out with it then, my dear Miss Sutton,” Annabelle grinned. These ideas were always a good laugh the next day with some of the ladies in the circle.

Theresa giggled and leaned in closer certain now that Annabelle had hinted that she would go along with her idea. “Countess Henrietta, her high and mighty ladyship, left her room unlocked.”

Annabelle looked at Theresa skeptically. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“It is true,” she held up a key continuing to beam and giggle.

Annabelle smirked. She knew better than to ask how Theresa had gotten a hold of the key to Henrietta’s room but who was she to argue when fate was being so kind.

“What say you about causing a little mischief, Miss Sutton?” Annabelle whispered and took the key from Miss Sutton.

“I say that sounds like a marvelous idea and you can count me in,” Briar said quietly from her standing spot behind the settee. “Who knows where she might find her clothes when the party guests leave.”

“Oh Miss Daly, that is positively devious of you,” Miss Parsons said with a devilish smirk. “There is no telling where her best dress may dance off to if they are left unattended and unchaperoned.”

“Oh but the adventures those gowns will go on.” Miss Sutton nearly shouted as she lept unsteadily from her seat. “To the stables they shall go!”

[joestrummen]

you should maybe go read Clint Barton and the taming of the Giant Green Rage Machine I wrote it aaages ago and looking back i think it’s quite good???