#// pours one out for the fic i've planned and will never write that we're using as the backdrop for this
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hey listen you kid and you joke and then you force me to do something drastic
for context this is in response to the tags of my post here in short i said i won't write about khaotung domming first 🌟For Science🌟because it seems like there's a 43% chance Khaotung dommed him for real while filming and anon is saying that its 78% and honestly anon is probably right from what they've said. bless firstkhao they are pushing me to The Very Brink of my RPF ethics code that i've built over 15 freaking years.
Anyway juries still out because filming isn't necessarily 'real' but just for your cheek i present you with an FK fic i wrote when mega depressed that i never thought would see the light of day. you can consider this punishment dear nonnie
[Firstkhaotung; Explicit; Read trigger warnings]
TW: dubcon, bareback, emotional abuse
Khaotung opens him up on his fingers, slowly and thoroughly exchanging sweet kisses, drinking in First's moans when they get too loud.
"You're so beautiful first. you know this right? you're the most beautiful person ive ever met. im so lucky to have a friend like you"
Khaotung continues, his voice reverent, fingers picking up speed opening First up roughly, "you're smart and talented and so, so good. so beautiful. my best friend"
When First starts squirming Khaotung kisses him again and says, "are you ready? Do you think you can take my cock now?"
First nods, looking at him with his big scared eyes as khaotung grabs the lube and pours it over himself, gets in position.
"Wait Ai’Tung! Wait! Aren't you going to use a condom?"
"A condom? Do you want me to use a condom?" First nods a little hesitant, afraid that Khaotung will be mad at him; he's relieved when Khaotung only looks back at him serenely.
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why do you want me to use one?"
"Isn't it-aren't we supposed to?"
"But I'm not going to fuck anyone else First. Isn't that why we're doing this? So we can spend more time together and you're not lonely. Who else are you planning to do this with First?"
"No-no one! Ai'Tung just you."
"Are you lying to me, First? It's not good to lie to your friends. It's okay if you want to fuck someone else. You have so many friends. I think it's normal to want to be with more than one person."
"No Ai'Tung-
"It's just that. I'm not sure I want to be with a slut like that. You understand me right?"
"Ai'Tung!" First follows him when Khaotung pulls away from him, trying to get him to settle on top of him again, "Please don't say that Ai'Tung. There's no one else!"
"Really?"
"Yes. Ai'Tung you're the only one."
"Okay, First. I trust you." Khaotung kisses him again until they're back to where they were before, First moaning into his mouth and Khaotung's dick rubbing against his entrance. "Should I use a condom, First? Maybe I was too harsh before. For you I will do it." First shakes his head. "Don't Ai'Tung. We only do this with each other."
#nani answers#nani writes#the thing about me and firstkhao is that#i know this is terrible but im still rooting for them here#fk delulu circus
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✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨
I was tagged by @heybluechild for this one, thank you my love this is such a fun way to look back on the year that's almost behind us <3
rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.
words and fics: 140,561 words in 17 fics
top 3 fics by kudos:
Not my type - 1618 kudos - Wayne tries to set Eddie up with Steve. Eddie is, however, one hundred percent convinced Steve is not his type.
I'll bring you flowers (in the pouring rain) - 666 kudos (hehe) - Steve has changed a lot since high school, but is Eddie aware of that?
Roses & Sunshine - 665 kudos - the homoerotic guitar lessons AU ft. Steve's little sister
my fandom fic events of 2023: of course Lex's amazing seasonal challenges AND idk if this counts as a fic event buuuut Lex's wedding fic challenge was definitely a highlight of this year! Another thing I loved doing was making covers for the angstflayer's greatest hits collection :D
upcoming projects for 2024: not planning anything huge, but I would love to actually finish the edancy siblings saga (and maybe write that hallmark christmas movie au that has existed as nothing but vibes in my head for over a year). Other than that, I haven't been writing as much lately, so I mainly hope to keep finding motivation, because writing has honestly given me a lot of joy and I would hate to lose that.
reflections: I've never before been as active in a fandom for such a long time. This means I got to try some stuff I wouldn't have thought to do, which has been super exciting! I'm very proud of The difference between a poem and a love letter, because I wrote a version of Steve I'd never have envisioned myself, but it turned out working very well! I'm also proud of some stuff I wrote that doesn't shy away from heavier subjects, like I will love your shadow, Out of the prison cell and into the ocean, and Until you face the rope.
I also want to reflect on the fics that have just been A LOT of fun: And suddenly we're Thelma and Louise has been one of the fics with the most amazing vibes, and Not all of us can afford to be romantic was a very short pride & prejudice au nobody asked for but had me giggling kicking my feet like no other!
Tagging: no pressure ofc but I'll tag @thefreakandthehair @henderdads @withacapitalp @stevethehairington @shares-a-vest @pizzaqueen @flowercrowngods and @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe
#oohhh this was so much fun!#i kinda forgot about some fics i wrote this year so looking back at all of them made me really happy (and surprised with how much i wrote!)
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Fic writer asks!
2, 10, and 12.
(You can do one of your choosing as a fun bonus, but no pressure!)
Hello nonny! Thanks for dropping by!
2. Do you plan each chapter or write as you go?
It's a mostly healthy mixture of both, if I'm honest! I plan for the major plot-points, of course. But I don't always get there the way I expect. (I gotta say, sometimes I'm pretty darn glad y'all can't see my drafts. It's a mess.)
10. Cltr + "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up
There was nothing in my main document, surprisingly! So here's something from the OC storyline instead.
"Canvas blinks in surprise that Sinker is being blasé about it; the sergeant interprets the action as confusion."
[Answer 12 got long so I'm hiding it under the read-more.]
12. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?
When I don't receive feedback or support on something I poured hours, days, even weeks (and oftentimes months!) of my time into writing, I feel like I've wasted my focus, my energy and my time that I could have put into other passions of mine. Unfortunately, I'm not as fast of a writer as I would like to be sometimes.
When interaction is a big, fat goose egg on what I write (outside of the OC storyline), I'm even slower. It makes me really upset, too.
But perhaps the most upsetting thing of all can be when another person requests, and then never says a single, simple word of thanks for the story made for them. Many, many fanfic writers agree that it is downright disrespectful and extremely entitled to ask that someone take time out their busy lives to cater a story to your tastes and then maybe get a "like" and little else in return.
We're not out here demanding your firstborn in return for the story you requested, or anything absurd like that. If you request something, please throw a comment and/or reblog our way, too, because those go a long, long way.
If you share what you commissioned or bought from the shops of your favorite fan artists, why the hell wouldn't you share what you requested from a fanfic writer? It's really not any different. 🤷
And on a similar note, it plain ol' sucks when you have someone tell you they "love your work" only to have your notifications tell you
.....
Anyways.
But I'll let you in on a not-so-secret secret: Interaction and support for your humble fan artist and/or authors out there means the fucking world to us. More than some of us could ever hope to explain.
It also makes fingers + brain go BRRRRRR!!!
#from the icebox#anon#ask games#foregoing the bonus question not because I don't love extra enrichment but because I feel 12 is important to end on#I've been around long enough to know that people have some... funny opinions about respecting the people who write fanfiction for you#you don't get to treat the fanfic writers in your community like shit then get surprised when they leave#or post less than they used to
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Bowers Gang x female!Bowers!reader - Fake Friends
A/N: Everytime I think I've stopped writing for the Bowers Gang for good I get a request that's just too good not to write. But this is really gonna be my last fic for them. Probably.
Summary: You recently started hanging out with some girls, and your brother and his gang are convinced they're not good for you. When you find out for yourself how fake these girls are the boys are there to let you rant to them about the horrible day you had.
Warnings: Fake friends, swearing, animal death (a stray cat), mentions of punching someone, reader is not a girly girl
Henry and his friends were hanging out in his room. Usually they avoided going to his house because of his dad, but since he was at work the boys had decided to go there anyway. Various reasons prevented them from going to one of the other's places today, and the weather wasn't nearly good enough to hang out outside.
"Where did you say Y/N is again?" Vic wanted to know from Henry.
"She went to hang out with Greta and these other bitches."
The boys wore matching grimaces of disgust at the thought of the girls in whose company Henry's sister currently was.
They had started hanging around her at school last month, and at first Y/N had disliked them just as much as the boys did.
But it was hard to avoid them since she shared almost all of her classes with them, and they seemed absolutely adamant on befriending her. Y/N eventually grew to enjoy their company. She'd never had any girlfriends, she'd always simply been part of Henry's group. As much as she loved the boys it was nice to have friends of her own for once, to be around other girls, even if they were the bitchy, annoying kind.
The boys were a lot less happy about it, especially her brother. Henry didn't like the way these girls were influencing his sister, how they tried to turn her into a preppy pink priss like themselves. He knew how much she hated that, knew how much she still enjoyed being one of the boys when she was with the gang. Yet she kept ditching them to hang out with the girls, kept letting them put makeup on her and paint her nails in shrill colors she hated. When Henry asked her why the answer had been vague, but what it came down was that she wanted to fit in. He had tried to convince Y/N she didn't need them, that she had the boys and that should be enough, but all that had led to was an argument about how he was trying to boss her around, so he had dropped the topic and never brought it up again.
"One of you guys has to talk to her and get her to stop spending so much time with them. She doesn't wanna listen to me when I tell her these bitches aren't her real friends," Henry said now.
"What makes you think she'll listen to us when she doesn't even listen to you?" Belch asked, and Henry shrugged.
"You know she doesn't like when I tell her what to do. If you guys talk to her she won't feel like that. Just make it sound like you're only saying it because we miss her hanging out with us."
"But that really is why we're saying it, isn't it?"
"Well, yeah. But not only. It's also because there's no way someone like Greta would actually wanna be friends with Y/N. Either they're planning to make fun of her somehow or they want to use her for something."
"Okay, so who's gonna talk to her?" Vic asked. "Or should we just do it together?"
"Definitely not Hockstetter," Belch said.
"Hey, I can be very convincing!" the boy in question complained. "Five minutes and I'll talk her into never wanting to see any of them ever again."
The group bickered back and forth about who would be the best for this conversation, but before they came to a decision Henry's gaze fell out the window and on his sister.
You were lying in the driveway on your back, arms spread out on either side of you, face turned upwards into the rain that was pouring from the sky.
Worry crept into Henry's heart at the sight, thoughts racing through his mind. Why were you back already when you had planned to stay out until suppertime? And what the hell were you doing lying on the ground? Had something happened to you? Were you hurt and unable to get up? He knew you liked the rain, liked to run around in it and play in the mud, and sometimes you also liked to just sit in it, letting it wash over you. Henry didn't get why you loved it so much, but you always said it was comforting to you so he just accepted it.
But even with all your love for the rain you'd never done something like this before.
Your brother got up and headed outside to check on you, his friends now noticed you too and followed him.
When you heard their footsteps closing in on you you turned your head towards them. You tried to turn the pout on your lips into a smile, but it didn't work very well.
"Hey guys."
"Hey." Henry answered for all of them. "You alright there?"
"Mhm. Just had a super shitty day, is all."
"That doesn't really explain why you're lying on the ground." Vic said.
"I fell." You showed them your bloody knee that you had scraped on the gravel of the driveway.
"So instead of getting up and coming inside like any normal person would you just stayed there and took a little rainbath?" Henry asked, exasperation clear in his voice.
You nodded.
"I like it down here. 'n the rain's nice."
"It's cold, Y/N. You're gonna get sick if you don't come inside," your brother scolded you.
You just groaned in annoyance and made no move to get up.
"Please, Y/N. Let's get you dried off and then you can tell us about your shitty day. I'll even make you a hot chocolate."
You perked up at this offer, and Henry knew he had convinced you. Hot chocolate for the win.
He held out his hand to you and you gripped it, letting him help you up.
While you disappeared into the bathroom to dry off and get changed Henry went to the kitchen, digging through the cabinets in hopes you actually had all ingredients for a hot chocolate at home. Luckily you did, and a few minutes later you all sat in Henry's room, with you holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate in your hands.
You had changed into a fluffy pajama, completely ignoring the fact that it was only afternoon and not even close to bedtime, and were sat next to Henry on his bed.
You took a sip and contently closed your eyes for a moment, before setting the cup down on the nightstand and letting yourself flop back on the mattress with a dramatic sigh.
"This was literally the worst day ever," you told the boys.
They exchanged a glance, already suspecting it had something to do with the girls that you called your friends.
"Wanna tell us about it?" your brother asked.
"Well, you know I was gonna hang out with the girls, right? And I got there a little early and heard Greta and Carol talking 'bout me. Turns out they all just hung out with me so you'd leave them alone at school. I heard them say how annoying I am 'cause I don't act girly enough and if it's really worth the bother to hang out with me."
You sniffled and tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to flow down your cheeks. You were staring up at the ceiling, so you couldn't see the boys, but you could practically feel the anger radiating off of them. All four of them were extremely protective of you, as far as they were concerned anyone who dared to make you cry deserved the death sentence. Your heart warmed at the thought. Yeah, these rowdy boys here with you were your real friends.
"So I went up to them, told them to go fuck themselves and punched Greta," you went on, and a small smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth at the memory. "I'm pretty sure I broke her nose."
The boys laughed and hollered, glad you had given the leader of these stuck-up girls payback for the way they'd treated you, and Henry proudly ruffled your damp hair.
Their happiness quickly died down when you continued speaking, making them realize that the conversation you'd overheard had only been the first of several shitty things to ruin your day.
"Then while I was walking home I saw this cat, it was all white and fluffy and it let me pet it."
Patrick rolled his eyes at this, as he didn't share your love for the animals, but the others had fond smiles on their lips. You didn't take notice of either and kept talking.
"But then it thundered and the cat got scared, and it just ran out on the street." Your voice was getting shakier with every word, and a tear fell from your eye, which you quickly wiped away. Henry was starting to suspect where this story was going, and as you continued he heard exactly what he expected. "And I tried to call for it but it didn't listen and then this car just drove right over it. It absolutely mashed it and that asshole didn't even stop his car to look what he's done!" You sat up, anger flashing in your eyes. "How could anybody do something like that?!"
The boys only shrugged, and Patrick had to bite back a laugh at how upset you were. It was only a cat, for fucks sake. At least to him.
When you didn't get an answer you finished your story. "And then when I finally get home I just have to fall down in the driveway and scrape my knee. As if my day hadn't been bad enough already."
You reached for your hot chocolate and drank some more of it.
"Aww, poor baby," Henry said, a teasing grin on his face.
You ignored the mocking undertone of his voice, knowing he really did feel bad for you, and held out your arms in a wordless plea to be cuddled, to which your brother obliged.
"I ain't doing nothing else today. 'm staying right here in bed until morning comes and I have to get up," you declared.
Henry raised an eyebrow at this.
"Right here, in my bed?"
"Yeah. Fuck going to my own bed, that's too far away," you grumbled, much to the other boys amusement.
"Huh. And what about dinner?"
This gave you pause. "Shit. Okay, I'll get up for dinner, but I'm going straight to bed after."
"To your own bed, I hope."
#Bowers Gang x reader#Henry Bowers x reader#Henry Bowers x sister!reader#platonic reader insert#platonic#Henry Bowers#Victor Criss#Belch Huggins#Patrick Hockstetter#Bowers Gang x Bowers!reader#female!reader#Bowers!reader#sister!reader
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@justificd ordered a murder egg combo
X6-88 can’t say he cares much for Diamond City. He has been here on assignment many times, between relaying orders to Kellogg and occasionally being the one sent to pick up McDonough’s reports. But he’d never spent much time in the city proper, out among the humans, until he started accompanying Father’s aunt on the surface.
She seems to have a fondness for it. In the beginning, she told him it was because of its resources, and as it’s a trade hub, X6-88 understood. But, in the recent month, she confessed to him that it was because sometimes, she needs to be around people. “Not that you’re not,” she’d immediately said, hands darting out to press against his lower arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t phrase that right.” X6 took no offense, but knew what her response would be if he told her that, so he didn’t.
This time, they’re here so she can meet up with her... partner. X6-88 doesn’t understand why she has romantic or physical interest in the man, but it isn’t his place to question her. He will follow his orders, which are to remain in the Diamond City Market while she convenes with her partner in Home Plate.
X6 remains near the door like a guard, leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed. Waiting is not difficult for him. He will wait.
#justificd#muse ;; x6#rp ;; thread#// pours one out for the fic i've planned and will never write that we're using as the backdrop for this#// x6: it isnt my place to question you#// x6: questions her anyway#// x6: and judges her#// for the curious elle's ''boyfriend'' is deacon#// its a cover story#// so she can give him intel without x6 being suspicious#// them: yeah we're gonna go play tonsil hockey#// x6-88: ew. i'll be over there#// them: [trash talks the institute]
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I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!
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Rating: T
Word Count: 5.1k
Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.
A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!
MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.
And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.
And boy, was he charming.
She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.
"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"
MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.
MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.
"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"
Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.
"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"
"Perhaps."
"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"
"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."
"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."
"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."
"I wouldn't complain."
"This is not that kind of date! Go!"
"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."
MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.
She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.
"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."
MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"
"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."
"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"
"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."
"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.
"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.
"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."
"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"
"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."
"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."
"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."
"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.
"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."
He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.
"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"
"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."
"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"
"You don't. That's the thrill of it."
"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."
"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."
"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.
"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."
"Probably."
He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.
"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."
"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"
He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"
"Got it."
"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."
"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."
"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.
"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."
Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.
"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.
"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"
Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"
"We'll see, now won't we?"
"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."
MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.
"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."
MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"
"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."
She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.
"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"
"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."
"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."
Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."
"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"
"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"
"Isn't that expected in all this?"
"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."
"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."
"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."
As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.
"I was waiting for that."
MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.
"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.
"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."
"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."
"Appreciated. What's the next part?"
"Eggs."
"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"
"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."
"You're the one giving the instructions."
"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."
"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.
"I live to serve."
There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."
"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.
"Oops, thank you."
"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."
She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."
After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."
"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"
"Already on it."
"Where's the whisk, again?"
"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."
"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"
"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.
"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."
"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."
"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."
"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"
MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"
"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."
"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."
"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"
"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"
He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."
MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."
"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"
"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.
"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.
"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"
The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."
She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."
He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."
Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.
"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"
MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."
"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.
After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.
"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."
"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."
"Are you positive?"
"Yes."
"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.
"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."
"Hmm, we'll see."
"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.
"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."
"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.
"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."
"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.
"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"
"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"
"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."
"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."
"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."
"Please."
MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.
"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.
"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."
She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"
"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"
"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."
"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."
Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"
"I guess," she laughed.
"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"
MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"
"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."
"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."
"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."
"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."
"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."
"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."
They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."
"As you wish," she said as she did so.
After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."
"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."
"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."
"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"
"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"
"Not particularly."
"Hey!"
"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."
"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"
MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."
"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."
MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."
"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.
"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.
"Are you ready to see it?"
"Sure."
He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.
"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.
"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.
"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"
He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."
"Has not."
She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."
"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"
"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."
She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.
#mysmerbb#mystic messenger#mysme#mysme vanderwood#vanderwood x mc#my writing#my fic#mysme fic#collab#art collab
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(A/N): This fic takes place immediately following book 1 chapter 11 (after being rescued by Sam from Sofia's closet). Not going to lie, I originally posted this monster fic (7000+ words) on Wattpad as a whole (my first fic, I didn’t know better!) so I’ve taken the opportunity to re-write and condense but thought it read better as two parts.
Series/Pairing: The Nanny Affair (M!Sam Dalton x MC Katie Hide)
Original characters - all property of PB: Katie Hide (MC), Sam Dalton, Mason & Mickey Dalton, Jenny Blake, Robin Flores (Part Two only)
New characters: (Present in Part Two) Serena-Rose Warren, Tessa Finch, Lucinda Hansen
Rating/Content warning: 18+ Light sexual language
Word Count: 1880
Summary: Driving home together, Nanny Katie Hide and her boss Sam Dalton get a little hot and steamy after she receives an offer of a night out with the girls.
Find Part Two here.
Part One -
The companionable silence within the car provides a stark contrast to the chaos of rush hour on the streets outside. Sam leisurely meanders through the traffic seemingly taking care not to rush the journey, enjoying a rare opportunity for the two of them to steal a fleeting moment to themselves. With their fingers laced together resting on his thigh, as his other commands control of the steering wheel, she steals a lingering glance in his direction relishing in the flutters which catch in her stomach as he notices her watching him. His lips curl into a comfortable smile in reply of her unspoken affection and it takes all his might to keep his eyes on the road.
In the footwell below her feet the distant hum of a phone, neglected in her bag, buzzing faintly to itself punctuates the quiet once again, as it has been for the last ten minutes. Tired of being ignored, the buzzing transforms into a piercing ring causing its owner to startle and refocus. Untangling her fingers from Sam's she reaches down to collect it, her frustration at being interrupted quickly forgotten when she sees her friend's name on the home screen.
"Finally!! So you are alive!" Jenny squeals down the phone without restraint. The smirk on Sam's face is unmissable as he recognises the shrill voice on the other end of the phone. Katie returns his glance with an eye roll of her own as she braces herself for an interrogation.
"Ok, ok I get it, I'm here now. What's up?"
"You need to ask that gorgeous boss of yours to give you Friday night off, we're taking you out and I won't take no for an answer! It's about time we had a girls night, we've barely seen you since you've been living it up with that sex god."
Katie winces hoping Sam hadn't heard that last bit, subtlety was never Jenny's strong suit. She knows she doesn't need to consider her answer, just thinking of how much she's missed her friends the last few months sparks a pang of guilt deep in heart. A night free from the drama of fiancés, stolen glances and torturous longing sounds perfect.
"That actually sounds great Jen, I'll try my best to come. Aren't we pushing it to get a spot at any of the good places though if we're leaving it this late..."
Jenny scoffs, feigning disbelief that Katie would think she didn’t already have a master plan. If she wasn’t her best friend she’d feel a little insulted.
"You don't think I'm already all over that?! And I mean literally, I've got Josh on the case for us and I definitely got all over that!"
The smugness in her voice carries her words and Katie can't help but giggle as she pictures how her unabashedly forward friend would've convinced her current flavour of the month Joshua Demarco, to use his connections to get them access to the hottest new bar in town. She'd no doubt that while a few flutters of eyelashes and some kind words would have sufficed, it was more likely that Jen would have insisted on giving him something more in return. And that something would most definitely not have been PG.
As the more outgoing and vocal half of their partnership, Jenny has always had a way of charming everybody she meets, her connection with people is effortless, something which Katie finds both admirable and terrifying.
While some could argue that Katie too could charm and impress people effortlessly, she is undoubtedly more comfortable in the background, observing and understanding how things work before weighing in. She notices the details, picking up on key points of conversation, getting to know people on a personal level and drawing on their connections to help assert herself. Jen needed to be visible at all times, she was like the sun, drawing people in to her warmth and reflecting her own energy back at them in return.
"I'll leave it with you then Jen, just text me with the details and I'll see if I can make it. And I don't mean the steamy details of you and Josh, you can save those to share with me over cocktails!" Sam's intensely brooding gaze falls upon her, no doubt trying to glue together the pieces of conversation he'd just overheard. She turns to him realising he probably already suspects there’s a further story to be told. They’d not yet shared much about their lives beyond the penthouse but he’d heard enough to know that she could be easily influenced by her impulsive friend.
"Jen I'd better go, speak soon."
Returning the phone to the depths of her bag, she catches Sam's eye, his expression warm but curious, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.
"Would you mind if I took the night off on Friday? Jen's asked if I can meet her and some friends, we haven't seen each other for ages...."
Unsure where the feeling comes from, the urge to say more rushes over her like a wave crashing on the shore. It’s the same as the feeling of nervousness she had that night a few weeks ago at the diner, almost like first date nerves. Perhaps, she realises, they’ve resurfaced because her whole life has been tangled with his for the last few months, she's not really sure how to break out of it and step back into her own, or whether he'll let her.
"Obviously I'll make sure I get the boys dinner sorted, the place tidy, laundry done and get them to bed before I head out....and I won't stay out late, I wouldn't want to cause any disruption....unless you've got any pressing work or meetings which means you'll be home late... I can cancel, I know it's short notice..."
"Woah, who are you, Cinderella?!"
The mirth in his tone instantly relaxes her as she realises he's only teasing. While attempting, and failing, to look defiant her nose inevitably crinkles, unable to contain the laughter bubbling to the surface at the silliness of her outburst. He leans over gently resting his hand on her knee to placate her, stroking her delicate skin with his thumb.
"Of course you should go out with your friends."
"Really?"
"Definitely." He continues, "as much as I would love to keep you to myself I know that you have a life of your own to live too and you, more than anyone, deserve to go out and enjoy yourself."
Sweeping his hand into her own, she gracefully brings it to her lips, tickling featherlight kisses along his knuckles.
"Thank you....but I don't know that you'd really want me to let my hair down if you knew how our girls nights usually play out..."
A wicked smile casts on her lips as she looks at him from under her long eyelashes, she continues to caress his hand, her lips teasing his skin with every word. He struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his mind racing with the many possible indiscretions which he imagines could take place on girls night, especially with Jenny at the helm. The visions in his mind entrance him and he can't decide whether he wishes he was part of them, or that she wasn't.
"I see, a bit of an every man for himself situation is it?!"
He pulls her hand over to his lap where he secures it on his thigh under his own. His hope that by keeping his hand on hers he can keep her grounded to him before losing her to the inhibitions of the impending night out.
"Let's just say it'll be a hot mess of short skirts, high heels, cocktails and getting sweaty on the dance floor."
Realising that the car has come to a stop at a red light she turns to Sam looking him straight in the eye as she slides her hand brazenly up his thigh. She can feel his pants straining to contain what's growing within them while his chest visibly rises and falls more rapidly, struggling to control the pulsing hunger running through him.
"But don't worry, we usually only break a few hearts".
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he launches across the centre console, holding her head in his hands and devouring her mouth with his hungry wet lips. She lets herself fall deeply into his kiss, smiling against him as she thinks to herself that she should ask for time off more often.
The light turns to green and then red again, disgruntled drivers behind sounding their horns in annoyance as the immaculate silver Audi blocks their path, but neither occupant notices as they loose themselves in one another.
Her gentle hands press against Sam's muscular chest, marvelling in the ripples beneath her fingers, before sliding them up into his hair pulling him deeper into the kiss. He keeps one hand firmly at the back of her neck, anchoring her to him while the other roams down the curves of her body, his thumb tweaking a now erect nipple before grasping at her hip.
Intruding on their entanglement, the sound of the in-car phone system echoes around the plush detailing of the car, with 'Home' appearing on the display. Breaking apart in surprise, they finally catch a breath. Sam rests his forehead intimately against hers as he gives the voice command to answer the call and Mason's innocent voice pours out of the speakers.
"Hey dad, are you gonna be home soon? We're staaarving." It's impossible for Katie not to break into a smile as she thinks about the boys at home with Carter, no doubt teaching him all sorts of tricks which she'd never let them get away with. Sam notices her thoughtful smile and matches it with his own as their minds work as one imaging the same scene. Their eyes once again meet as they resign themselves to the intimate moment being lost, instead committing it to memory to recall again when the urge to immerse themselves in thoughts of each other inevitably come to call.
"Yeah buddy, I've just picked up Katie and we're heading home now."
The smile in Mason's voice is evident as his tone becomes more upbeat.
"Oh great, Katie's with you?...Hey Katie!"
"We missed you today, why'd you have to spend the day with Suck...I mean with Sofia anyways?!" Mickey interrupts, his fear of missing out pushing him to insert himself in the conversation.
Sam and Katie stifle their giggles at Mickey's slip of the tongue, aware of the microphone above their heads. Sam places a soft kiss on Katie's forehead before pulling away begrudgingly as she in turn adjusts her position, smoothing over her now crumpled skirt.
"Hi boys, I missed you too. I was just helping her with some grown up work stuff, definitely not as fun as a day with you monkeys though.”
Much to the relief of the drivers behind them, Sam's already breezing through the now green light towards the penthouse, this time with more urgency as the sky above begins to melt into dusk.
"How about your dad and I pick up some pizza on our way back...."
Without even a moments hesitation the twins excited voices burst through the speakers once again.
"Score!"
Tag List: @shewillreadyou @txemrn @silma-words @thefrenchiemama @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @fanjessfic
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Fanfic Appreciation Week Day 7: A Place Where I Can Breathe
Yes, folks, I'm appreciating my own darn fanfic for the final day of Fanfic Appreciation Week because I worked really hard on it and it was a labor of love for/with one of my QPPs, my roommate, the man who got me into Sanders Sides: @\cadeorade-powercade (That's him in the aesthetic board)
Allow me to present the director's commentary for A Place Where I Can Breathe:
Content Warnings: All content warnings mentioned in the fic apply.
Chapter 1: I actually wrote this fairly late in the game. It's meant to serve as a prologue and orient the viewer in the universe, s opposed to staring on Chapter 2, which just throws the viewer in without context. I think it was a good choice, as it also allowed me to introduce the concept of the Sides having power focuses early on.
The Premise: Cade is a Virgil stan and he was getting frustrated looking for Virgil fic. He was finding a lot of stuff written without nuance by young authors, a sort of "by teenagers for teenagers" type deal. We are not teenagers, so we both have a hard time relating to that kind of teen angst fic, as we're not the target audience. So he asked me to write him a Virgil fic and we worked together to identify what plot he wanted, what the Mindscape looked like, and what quirks the Sides have. So a lot of this fic is quite gratuitous and self-indulgent
The Title: Lizzie McAlpine has a song called "Apple Pie" which includes the lyric "I've been running around trying to find a place where I can breathe." Apple Pie SCREAMS Moceit to me, and I had taken notice of the lyric and wanted to use it as the title for a Moceit fic. I didn't really have an idea beyond that, and when Cade asked me to write this fic, I realized it was actually perfect and summed up Virgil's inner struggle quite nicely. So cheers to "A Place Where I Can Breathe," the Moceit Fic That Wasn't
-Cade asked me specifically to include Virgil having a spider and I wrote nearly the whole fic without doing so, then had to go back and sprinkle some references in. I think I managed 2 total.
Chapter 2:
"Uh, how about I hold off on that until I actually see my room?" Virgil stared expectantly at Roman, who bounced on his toes. "Lead on, Macduff."
"That's not the line and you know it," Roman complained, but he turned to lead Virgil to his room. "It's ' lay on, Macduff,' and--"
-This fic was originally supposed to reach a climax with a confrontation between Remus and Roman, and "lay on, Macduff" would come back as a brick joke. Unfortunately, the original ending was a result of me getting tired and lazy, so I had to go back and fix it, and we lost the Roman-Remus confrontation.
It was hard for Virgil to not shudder at the sudden heat and weight on him. With his senses already open and taking in more information than his brain seemed to want to process, touch was an added stressor, more unwanted sensory input.
-Virgil being touch-averse is a direct shoutout to Cade, who is also touch-averse.
Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV.
-Upon first writing, Virgil had already given the upstairs crew his name, so the banner spelled out "VIRIGL" which is way funnier than "ANXEITY." But then his name reveal became a plot point so I had to go back and change it.
-Let! Virgil! Be! Mean!
-Virgil's line about hearing refrigerator noise when Roman talks is another shout-out to Cade, who has leveled that accusation at me
A small, cruel part of him protested at the idea that he would need special treatment and desperately wanted to throw it back in Patton's face. He wasn't a sweetheart, he wasn't a baby. He didn't need to crawl into a blanket fort with Dad just because he was a little stressed.
-Remus calls Janus "Janus Geminus" because I was tired and couldn't come up with a pun. "Geminus" is one of the Roman god Janus' epithets; another is "Pater" meaning "Father." That led to a conversation about Remus deliberately confusing Patton by calling Janus "Daddy," but I couldn't think of a clean way to fit the explanation into the narrative, so I stuck with "Geminus."
Chapter 3:
"There's nothing normal about that! " Roman stared in horror at the coffee massacre Virgil had orchestrated. What had once been a respectable (if not very tasty) cup of black coffee was now part of a 1:1 coffee to milk suspension, the liquid a tasteful shade of tan suitable for business casual trousers or a show-ready chihuahua.
-Cade is a certified Nightmare Man and came up with Virgil's horrifying coffee order after I asked him about it. Keep an eye out for Janus' equally horrifying coffee order later in the fic.
1) Shouts out the fact that Janus is canonically a Dostoevsky fan
Chapter 4:
Janus smiled at him. "Where reason fails, the Devil helps." He fussed with his gloves and straightened his capelet. "It's showtime."
-I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Look at me. Look at me. I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Janus' quoting Raskolnikov serves multiple purposes:
2) Lampshades the fact that Roman just conveniently happened to be alone in the living room, because I didn't want to waste time getting him there. That makes me, the author, the Devil
3) Foreshadows the impending disaster. When Raskolnikov says this line it is because he had planned to commit axe murder. The axe he was planning to steal had been moved, but he finds another, different axe to use. Raskolnikov messes up the murder and ends up killing an innocent witness in addition to his intended target. Janus messes up his manipulation attempt and ends up murdering Roman's self esteem
-I was going to include a reference to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (Remus' line "debauchery and vomit" was originally going to be "blood, love, and rhetoric") but I didn't because... Uh... Hm. Why didn't I do that. Maybe I just forgot about it???
-Roman is too stubborn to manipulate for long and that is a fact.
"I was pretty much done anyway," Remus said. "There's only so much debauchery and vomit you can fit into one story."
-Cade specifically ask me that nobody cry in this fic, but after I had Janus eviscerate Roman I knew he couldn't not cry a little. I kept it to a minimum because there's already a billion fucking fics about [literally any Side] crying on the shoulder of [literally any other Side] and it's really just not interesting to either of us.
-It didn't come up because it doesn't matter, but Thomas dreamed he was participating in the exact Dionysian orgy that took place in The Secret History because it's my fic and I said so.
Chapter 5:
He just sat back and watched and tugged at his hair while Janus spooned mound after mound of crisp white sugar into his mug and Virgil poured his customary eight fluid ounces of milk into his own mug.
-Cade strikes again. Virgil's coffee order is equal amounts milk to coffee; Janus' is equal parts sugar to coffee. He had asked me to include a scene where Roman catches Janus massacring his coffee and is appropriately horrified, but I uhh... Didn't write it. I still might include it as an omake someday.
-I imagine that Roman feels really strongly about dragons vs wyverns, and Remus just pretends to give a shit because he thinks it's funny to wind Roman up. Fortunately for me but unfortunately for my sense of realism in writing, I can't relate because I adore my sister and we get along perfectly almost 100% of the time.
"You shut us down every chance you get!" Remus said, baring his teeth. "How would you like it if your pens never wrote, hm? What would you do with all those thoughts in your head?"
-I do wish I had developed the concept of power focuses a bit more, established rules and such. Basically, Patton is always on the prowl for wrongthink and actively represses it, which in turn breaks or sabotages the Dark Sides' power focus.
Chapter 6: This chapter really should have been Janus and Roman but I was really tired and didn't want to bother with it. Plus, you know, Moceit. This chapter was meant to demonstrate how the characters would get along without Virgil nannying them. There's friction, but everyone is making a conscious, deliberate effort to get along because they love Virgil, and love is a series of choices you make.
I chose "Leo" as the answer for the answer to the crossword clue instead of "Virgo," because my other QPP is a Leo. She'll never read this fic, but I did it anyway because I love her. (Trivia: My sign is Virgo, so it was really a choice between shouting her out and shouting me out, and the last chapter is self-indulgent enough, thank you).
Chapter 7: I was gonna write a fic where all the Sides watched Cats the Musical because I was going through a phase. Then Cade requested this so I combined the two ideas. By this point I was fucking exhausted, and that's the only thing that saved you and the rest of the world from me writing the Sides riffing on the movie scene-by-scene. I could come up with snarky commentary for almost every, if not every single song from the movie.
Most notably, I cut a Patton-Remus interaction where Remus declares his love for Grizabella and Patton gets all staryy-eyed about Remus connecting with the idea of rising above rejection and being loved and accepted only for Remus to shoot him down and explain that he just likes that she got to die in a tire fire.
Other cut scenes include Janus quietly pretending not to go feral over Mister Mistoffelees, Patton full-on fucking sobbing over Grizabella and the kittens, and Logan experiencing a deep, soulful kinship with Munkustrap during Of The Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollices (and henceforth introducing the phrase "like herding cats" into his regular vocabulary
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Morning
A small drabble on an emotional morning with Phoenix and Miles 💕 This takes place any time after Dual Destinies. I'm writing it where they're already married. This is just a quick bit I wanted to write when I had the idea :') I also drew a quick something at the end. The fic is under the cut!
Phoenix really wished he had more days off - everytime he was, there was always a great smell in the house from Miles' cooking. Being off work more often meant more of that, even if a little less bank coming in. It would definitely be worth it.
Lifting himself up from the cushioned mattress and tossing aside the velvety soft blankets atop of him, he stretches his limbs with a low groan - reaching his arms back before pulling them into his lap as he relaxed. Taking in a deep breath, he pulls his legs over the side of the bed and hoists himself over so he could see what was on the menu this morning.
Closing the lid of the cooking pot to steam the rice, Mr. Edgeworth hummed quietly to himself a peaceful little tune; one of which he'd seem to be making up as he went along. Turning his attention elsewhere as the grains cooked, he lowered the heat for another burner to medium, where he was cooking miso soup. Adding in a good few tablespoons of yellow miso paste, he whisked the substance into the already simmered broth before adding some previously cut up blocks of tofu. Raising the spoon to catch a quick taste, he found it was light, slightly sweet, and smooth in a way he quite enjoyed. Something was missing though, of course - turning towards the fridge to grab a few stalks of watercress to chop and throw in.
Stepping out from their bedroom and making his way downstairs into their kitchen, Phoenix paused a moment to simply watch his love candid from the steps. Miles, dressed in his soft, white robe like every morning accompanied by his perfect-as-always hair. Phoenix could nay say the same, given his own styling takes ten minutes on a good day.
Watching the way he so gracefully moved even without knowing eyes were on him was incredibly cute - though Miles would never let him say that, with how against that description he was when it was of himself. For now, Phoenix knew Miles was cute. Handsome, of course. Sexy, of course. Cute, of course.
Phoenix made his presence known by making a soft yawn as he walked down the last few steps, walking into the main kitchen and making sure to gently hold his hand against the small of Miles' back as he stood next to him. The latter shook his head slightly whilst quickly chopping up the watercress aforementioned - swiftly picking them up between his hand and the knife and tossing it into the soup.
"Good morning, Wright. How did you sleep?"
Phoenix made a darling little laugh that Miles loved so much - the type with a sort of deepness to it; a sort of breathlessness. "Well, I slept just fine with you by me, hun," he spoke prior to pressing his lips against the prosecutor's cheek, "with you being as warm as a radiator and all, ha..!"
Miles scoffed. "Very funny. Is that all I'm good for in bed? To keep you warm?"
"I was about to say no, but..'keeping me warm' sure has a lot of meanings. And I think you're good for all of them." Phoenix sighed, sporting a small smile as he pressed his face into the nape of Miles' neck contently - lips gently kissing his shoulder. It earned a sweet, if calm, sigh from the prosecutor.
"..I could say the same for you. But it's much too early for this, mm? We can work out our flirtations after we eat breakfast."
Phoenix kept his dorky smile splashed on his countenance as he pulled away, raising a hand to brush back some strands of hair from his eyes - finding himself not too annoyed today with his 'naturally-spiky-but-not-spiky-enough-and-more-messy' bedhead. "That works with me; everything smells so good!"
Miles looked flattered from that. "Thank you, Wright. It is certainly better than what you normally make yourself in the morning-"
"Hey- don't knock cup coodles! I could live off of those."
Miles furrowed his brows and gave a glance to Phoenix in exasperation. "This is why I'm the one who feeds us. Anyhow.." The former smiled to himself as he pulled a plastic package of soba noodles in front of him on the counter - removing the wrapper and slowly adding the noodle block into the miso broth. "Maya called me earlier. She asked me to tell you that she'll be unavailable all day."
With Phoenix opening the fridge door to grab something to drink, he paused to speak before grabbing the carton of orange juice - much like many of their groceries, an expensive brand that Phoenix wasn't used to, and Miles' choosing. "Oh? Was she planning on taking Trucy and Pearls somewhere?"
Miles shook his head as he wiped off his hands with a damp washcloth that he'd set beside him prior, "Sort of. She wanted to make a trip to Hazakura Temple - she and Pearl are to train while Trucy is their...how did she put it, ah.. 'hype-man'." He felt silly even recalling the term, but Phoenix's expression seemed to prove that he knew what he meant.
"Hah- well, she'll get no bother from me then. I'll just check up on them when they get back. We have the whole day to ourselves, for once.." Phoenix meekly spoke - pouring himself a glass of the aforementioned juice before guzzling it down in a post-sleep thirstiness. He wiped his upper lip with his wrist as he went back in to pour some more.
"It is rare, isn't it..?" The prosecutor seemed somewhat sorrowful in stating that. "I want to make the most of it. It's not often I'm not out travelling, or you're not on duty, or there's no emergencies."
Phoenix parted his lips to speak, before sighing and looking down to his cup solemnly. He set it down. "...Yeah. But..I still love you all the same." He looked back up to the love of his life; a carefree smile pulling at his lips and a special brightness glittering in his eyes, "We're a family. Things are..always going to come up, but our time spent away or together feel all the same to me. The only difference is that I get to actually kiss you, in times like now. Being apart..just reminds me of how much I trust you."
The words hit harder than Miles expected them to. Even with the defense attorney's unorganized nature, and his less-than-articulate manner, it was somehow more meaningful to him. Phoenix was always emotional, and true to what he said - this was no different. Edgeworth's expression was strong; brows furrowed up and eyes purposefully lying low.
Phoenix paused, "..Come here."
He gestured for a hug after his gentle words; Miles all too eager for the embrace. Phoenix's arms draped over Miles' shoulders, wrapping around his neck as to pull himself closer. Vice versa was Miles wrapping his arms tightly around Phoenix's waist; both of their heads lay upon the other's shoulder, welcoming what warmth was available. They held each other for what felt like so long, and simultaneously not long enough; the only reason for their part was so they could meet at their lips, instead. Passionate, and yet soft - just a simple press without much else, yet it was all they needed. By the end of their embrace, their heads leaned forward to touch at their foreheads while holding each other's hands between their chests. Their thumbs occasionally brushed over each other's wedding rings.
"..You know how much you mean to me, Phoenix."
"I know, Miles." He huffed out a short breath before breaking into a smile, "..You could always just say 'I love you'."
And with that, the silver-haired Edgeworth broke into a laugh and slowly pulled away, "Alright, alright..I love you. You know that."
"I love you too, Miles."
Phoenix watched as his love went back to his work - Miles grabbing his wooden chopsticks as to stir the noodles. The more defensive of the two sat at the dining table, glass in hand.
"...I'm going to guess that you won't want onions in your serving of noodles."
Phoenix pretended to gag in response to Miles, "Ghk-! Absolutely-! Onions taint everything they touch..." He hesitated, "..Other than onion rings. But that's the only good thing with onions!"
Edgeworth rolled his eyes with a playful smile, chuckling to himself a bit at just how strongly Wright felt over such a thing as onions. "Of course. Though, you're missing out on their flavour, dear - I've never met someone other than you who has a distaste for them."
"You haven't met anyone with any tastebuds," Phoenix scoffed back - earning a snort from the other.
"Oh, have I? Dear, I think you're referring to yourself there."
The defense paused; his face lifting as his cocky court grin curled onto his lips. "Unfortunately, Edgeworth, I think you have some words to eat. Clearly my statement is right - anyone who's ever tasted an onion could tell you that it tastes like damn garbage."
The prosecution stifled a laugh, lolling his head to look over his shoulder at his rival. "Oh, Wright. I'm afraid you've buried your grave - onions obviously give any dish they're added to an excellent depth of flavor."
"Well obviously they do not- ow-!" Phoenix burst into a soft laugh as Miles leaned over to smack his arm with his chopsticks - ending their court imitations. "Hun-!"
Miles rolled his eyes and looked back down to his cooking. "My love. We don't need to argue over onions. Besides, I'm not about to settle a case over opinion."
"Ha-! Well then, baby doll, I'm prepared to settle a case of any kind. Maybe you just don't have that kind of determination?" Phoenix jested, taking another swig of his orange juice.
"Of course you would be, Feenie." Miles hesitated before chuckling to himself. Swirling the noodles inside the pot, he shook his head. "That's a new one. I don't know where that came from... It's sort of cute, no? Feenie. Hm."
When Miles went to look at Phoenix for his approval, he was numb; his husband's face suddenly not as lively as it once was. His eyes gazed low, gazed dryly. His hands tensed around the glass he held, knuckles bearing white. Worst of all, his countenance really held no expression at all - the fact that it was so stiff, so miserable looking was what'd caused Miles to choke back a breath.
What was it about that name that suddenly struck Miles as odd? Feenie. Feenie.
"It's.. uh.. not great, honestly, Miles. No offense or anything."
"I'm- sorry." Miles was admittedly stunned - a little ashamed, a little confused, very concerned. "..For some reason its.. ringing a bell-"
"Dahlia."
"I'm..sorry?"
"..Dahlia used to call me that. You know, before.."
The room was drenched in silence - Miles struggling to find any words to say. What could he say to that - what should he? Though, the look on Phoenix's pitiful face urged him to find something.
"...I didn't mean to hurt you, saying it. I-" Miles hummed to himself and turned his head to Phoenix, lip bitten and unsure how to word himself. He slowly looked back down to his cooking when words couldn't properly form in his throat.
"It's fine." Phoenix nodded - looking away and tapping his fingers on the table in a sort of anxiousness. "You didn't know."
"I didn't remember," Miles scolded himself, "I should have remembered such a thing like that."
Phoenix looked a little put off. "Don't feel guilty for that. It was so long ago - I.. I didn't expect you too."
The soft bubbling of the broth in the pot filled the silence between them; chopsticks occasionally hitting the sides of the pot, Pess jingling her collar as she scratched herself from the living room all the while. Phoenix tried to will Miles to turn around so he could assure him it was fine, without words - however when Miles never did he spoke up hesitantly.
"I didn't mean to ruin the mood."
Miles quickly scoffed and turned to look at Phoenix with a pained expression, "You didn't, Phoenix. You were just telling me of something that hurt you."
"It's just a nickname, though," Phoenix laughed at himself, seemingly ashamed, "It's a little stupid to hurt so much over a nickname, isn't it?"
"I don't think so," Miles replied, his tone hurt from his husband stuffing his emotions down - such a thing from Phoenix was rare, and it made this hurt just a little more than usual. Setting the chopsticks horizontally on the counter, he ushered himself away from the stove to lay a gentle, lithe hand on Phoenix's forearm, and leaning down so he could rest his chin atop his head.
Phoenix nearly melted into his touch, feeling comforted by Miles' body and his warmth. Finding solace in the safety of his arms, Phoenix allowed himself to exhale a deep breath and relax. Unsatisfied with the arrangements, however, he shook his head and gestured his head down. "Get in front of me a bit, Miles."
He wasn't about to complain, though as he moved in front of Phoenix to kneel, Miles was still a tad confused. Before he could ask why Phoenix wanted him to, the man placed his hands on the prosecutor's cheeks and leaned forward to kiss his forehead.
"I prefer looking at you, dear," Phoenix hummed. He moved his hands down to take Miles' own - raising them to place endearing kisses against flushed knuckles and fingertips, much to his husband's timidity. "..Thank you. For not minding putting up with me and all."
"Ah, yes," Miles started, smiling, "I married you because I simply 'didn't mind putting up with you'."
Phoenix laughed as he realized the hilarity of what he had said, "Hey! You know what I mean!"
"I married someone I just 'put up with'." Miles continued, chortling to himself, "Not in an act of pure love or anything."
Phoenix hushed Miles' teasing by leaning down and pressing his lips against the other's - the two humming against the warmth before falling into the quiet passion, then lingeringly pulling away. Their hands kept their doting hold still.
"..I love you, Phoenix. However, breakfast is due to overcook."
Phoenix shrugged and pressed his lips against Miles' cheek, unwilling to pull away as proven by how he spoke against his skin. "I don't mind."
"Suppose you wouldn't," Miles breathed out, amused.
Miles held himself in Phoenix's grasp before reluctantly pulling away to take charge of the stove again. Phoenix didn't seem to be happy with such an arrangement, so he took it upon himself to stand and wrap his arms around Miles' waist, head resting on his shoulder. The prosecutor pressed his palm against Phoenix's forearm in silent fondness - his other busy stirring food.
#ace attorney#narumistu#wrightworth#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#gyakuten saiban#aa#tw#trauma tw#finished#my art#don't steal#original#morelikesin#traditional art#mine#my work
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I got this letter from Megan and then the first thing she said to me when I found her was she wanted to move out, so I had to write a fic on how that transpired.
Note: megan's nickname for me is lollipop
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"Hhhh..."
Megan let out an anxious sigh. She'd been toiling over this letter for the last half an hour, reading and rereading it, making sure it sounded good enough to send to the resident representative.
"Maybe I should just toss it, this is silly of me to send anyway."
She reached for the garbage bin next to the stand when a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"What do you think you're doing, private?"
Megan bolted up, clutching the letter to her chest. Wilbur stood before her. How long had he been there, watching her agonize over this? She blushed, covering her face.
"Oh goodness, I'm sorry Wilbur. I dont mean to waste paper. I just... can't find the words to say what I'm feeling. I thought writing them out would help me feel better, but now that I have them on the page, it just seems silly."
Orville looked up from his book from behind the counter. "I could give it a read, if you'd like. I'm about as impartial as you can get!" He glanced at Wilbur and laughed. "Well, Wilbur too, but he's not much for reading."
Wilbur nodded. "Negatory, this bird has one love, and that love is flight." With that, he picked up his coffee from the desk and walked off into the back.
Orville rolled his eyes. "He's up until 2 am most days watching old compilation videos on NookTube of pilot commands."
He extended a wing to Megan. "Anyway, mind if I take a look?"
Megan fidgeted a little. "Promise you won't laugh?"
Orville snapped to attention, doing a salute. "I would never!"
Megan smiled and handed him the letter. "Let me know what you think."
She waited, watching him read over the page. He looked back at her and grinned. "This sounds just like you, Megan. I wouldn't change a thing."
He cocked his head, a little question mark appearing above it. "What did you get them that took so long to decide on?"
Megan blushed. "Well, I know they like umbrellas, so I thought I'd get them a really cute one I saw the other day. But I was worried if they'd like it or not. They really seem to like ones with fun designs and I thought this would be up their alley."
"What a thoughtful gift! I'm sure they'll love it."
She pulled out the umbrella and handed it to Orville. "If you think the letter is good, would you mind sending it off with this attached before I get cold feet again?"
"Okidodoki!" Orville did his dodo magic and stuffed an umbrella into a letter and tucked it away. "Was there anything else you needed?"
"No thank you, Orville. I really appreciate your help."
"Any time!" He smiled, and Megan took her leave.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, the sky darkened and rain poured down. Megan awoke to the sound of rain pattering against her windows, the rustling of the trees in the wind. She smiled, and went about making her breakfast. How fortuitous, now lollipop would be able to use their new umbrella. Just as she was putting her oatmeal on the stove, there was a knock at her door. Her heart jumped, was lollipop really up this early? She quickly opened her door, but instead found her black and white rabbit neighbor, Dotty, standing there with a bag.
"Morning! I could totes smell you cooking something scrumptious in there, so I thought I'd crash your breakfast party with some muffins!"
"Oh, good morning, sundae! Come on in, I'd love the company!" Megan let her inside. "Maybe even more than your muffins."
Dotty pulled the container of muffins from her bag and set them on her table. "I made them extra sweet, since I know that's your favorite." She took a carrot cake. "Anyway, whats up with you? Got any plans today?"
Megan took the oatmeal off of the stove and served them both. "Well, i was going to go do some exercises in the plaza later but I'm not sure now, with all this rain."
Dotty nodded "ugh, right? I'm soo ready for it to be summer, go away rain! I'm gonna craft this cool mask I thought up earlier. I was watching a streamer I like do this playthrough of a video game, and I was only half paying attention but I kept seeing these cuuute little forest things that wore leafs as masks! So I'm gonna go recreate them so I can do a little closet cosplay of them, doodle dip."
Megan smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. "That sounds like fun! I'll be sure to tell Riley you're crafting when I see them, you know how they love learning new DIY recipes."
An explanation mark appeared above Dotty's head. "Thats right! Weren't you working for like, eeeveerrr on finding them an umbrella? Whatd you settle on?"
Megan reached over and grabbed a lemon poppyseed muffin out of the container. "Well, i figured since they really seem to like umbrellas that look like something else, I'd get them one that looks like a kiwi."
Dotty put her hand on her chin, thinking, a thought bubble floated above. "Thats a super cute idea, but I am worried about what they might wear with that? I like, totally don't mean to bring you down but I don't think I know anything they usually wear that goes well with green and brown."
Megans blood ran cold. She hadn't even thought about what Riley normally wears.
"Oh gosh, I hadn't even thought of that! Shoot, I have to go see if Orville hasn't mailed it yet. Maybe I can still take it back!" Megan jumped up and threw on her raincoat.
"Wait, Megan, you really don't have to do that. I'm sure senpai-" but Megan was out the door before Dotty could finish.
*maybe there's still time... oh why didn't I consider this beforehand...*
Megan burst into Dodo Airlines, out of breath. "Orville!" She ran up to the counter. Startled by the sudden giant purple bear, Orville jumped, splashing coffee onto this uniform. Megans heart fell further.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Orville!"
Orville brushed himself off. "Thats okay, it happens more often than you'd think. What's got you in a tizzy?"
"I need to unsend that letter from yesterday, I've made a terrible mistake!"
Orville frowned. "But megan, we already went over how your letter was lovely. Besides, I already placed it in their mailbox, I can't just go and steal mail back."
Megans shoulders sagged. "Oh..." sighing heavily, she walked out.
Megan retreated to the coconut grove, sitting on one of the islands Riley had made. How could she claim to be a good friend if she didn't even notice their fashion choices? What else could she be neglecting to pay attention to? No one deserved an unobservant friend like her. Dotty had only been here a month and she knew more about lollipop than she did.
Maybe it would be best for her start over again. Maybe if she made a conscious effort to observe people from the beginning, she wouldn't miss things like this.
As she sat there thinking, a figure approached. She looked up to see lollipop, who was now rushing over to her.
"Megan! I got your letter! I-"
Megan put up a paw, shaking her head. "I know, it was foolish of me to send it. Look, i.... I think I need a fresh start, on a new island. I'm not growing that well here, I'm awful at noticing things. Maybe if I go somewhere new, I'll learn how to be a better bear and a better friend."
Riley's face fell. "Megan, how could you say that? You're a wonderful friend!"
Megans eyes filled with tears. "But... but Dotty has been here way less time than I have and she knows you so well!"
"Yeah, but you know me too. You know I love umbrellas and got me one I don't have yet! And look, it helped me coordinate an outfit for today!"
Megan wiped her eyes, actually taking in what lollipop looked like today. They were wearing a lovely green blossoming kimono, kimono sandals, and the kiwi umbrella. Megan smiled, and burst into laughter crying. Riley fumbled, looking distressed.
"Oh, uh, shoot, did I say something wrong?"
Megan shook her head, smiling. "Here i was, worried about not being observant enough, and I still didnt even notice what you were wearing. Can you ever forgive me?"
Riley hugged her. "Of course, you silly old bear. Our friendship is important to me, okay? My friendships with others will be inherently different, but that doesn't invalidate ours, I promise"
Megan nodded, hugging them back. "Thanks, lollipop. "
Riley looked up at them from their embrace. "Have I buttered you up enough to convince you to stay?"
Megan laughed. "Oh, all right. Maybe I'm right where I belong, after all."
Riley released her from the hug. "Anyway, just so we're clear: I love the umbrella. You really know me well."
Megan wiped away the last of her tears. "If my gift makes you happy, then I'm happy, sundae."
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The Night We Met (Mona x MC)
Pairing: Mona x MC
About: Mona and MC meet for the first time since the Mercy Park Crew went their own way. They spend one last night together before Mona is on the run again.
Genre: Romance/ Fluff
Word count: 2103
Note: This story occurs after the final chapter of Ride-Or-Die but instead of getting caught by the cops, Mona is on the run. I have busy for the past few months but I also missed Mona enough to find time to write this short fic lol. My first time writing a fan-fic so please be nice! Thanks for reading! :)
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Meet me tomorrow at 7:30 p.m. At our park. You know where.
I glanced down at the familiar writing on the scrap of paper I received just the night before. I took a deep breath and settled down on a bench under a street light at the park. Our park.
I was nervous. Having not seen her in 9 months made me feel a whirlwind of emotions. I was surprised, to say the least, when I found out she wanted to meet up.
Her on the run meant going under the radar. Going under the radar meant no hand phones. No hand phones meant that it was hard to keep in touch. In a way, I think that's what she wanted. Not for her sake. Never hers. She did it for me.
Exchanging random notes and letters every month or so was barely enough. Nothing is ever enough with her. I craved to talk to her more, find out what she's been up to and where she is now. All I get is the bare minimum, saying she's doing alright. I suppose I can't really be mad at that, seeing if the cops ever got hold of the notes she sent, she might as well just hand herself in.
I glanced at the tattered note once again and then at my watch. It was already 7:45p.m.
Maybe she's not gonna show up after all.
I sighed sadly and got up from the bench when I heard a rustling sound from behind me. That sound was then followed by a slightly husky yet smooth sounding voice.
"Hey, gorgeous."
I swirled around to find the girl I've dreamt about every day since we parted.
"I hope you weren't planning on leaving," she spoke with that stupid arrogant smirk that I missed so much.
"Mona," I barely whispered. I was too stunned to do or even say anything else. She was really here. This isn't a dream.
"Sorry for making you wait, I thought it'd be nice to get you a little something or whatever." She gestured to the bouquet of flowers which I've just only noticed.
I glanced at the flowers then back at her. Her willowy figure. Her black hair, now illuminated by the street light. Her jacket that I would so often steal before we ended up in this mess. Her lips. Her face. Her eyes. Her dark eyes which were now staring directly into mine, daring me to make the first move as I once did so many months ago when we kissed for the first time. All of her. It really was Mona. My Mona. And, wow, was she breathtaking.
Suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, I ran and jumped into her arms as my sight became blurry with tears.
"Woah, there!" Mona dropped the flowers in time to catch me. My arms were tightly secure around her neck and my legs wrapped around her waist, hanging on to dear life. I was. I buried my face in the crook of her neck and began to sob quietly.
"Well, looks like someone missed me," she stated in that cocky tone of her.
So overcome with emotions, I didn't even bother to reply with a sarcastic or witty response to fight back her arrogance.
"I did. I missed you," I breath out into her neck. I unwrapped my legs from her waist but still trapped her with my arms. Her arms were still around my waist too, not wanting to let go. "So goddamn much."
Hearing the sadness in my voice, she relaxed a bit in my arms and put away her facade and the wall that she has built around herself.
"I missed you too," sincerity and vulnerability dripping from her voice. "You have no idea how many times I wanted to walk up to your front door and throw all caution in the wind just to see you again."
My heart slammed against my chest at her confession. I pulled back and stared into her eyes only to be met with honesty and grief. I pulled her head to mine and kissed her with as much passion and emotion as I could. I could taste the tears dripping down my cheek, a reminder of the how bittersweet this moment will be when I look back at it.
But for right now, I was thrilled. So thrilled, it was dizzying. I pulled away from her lips with a small giggle, unable to help myself.
"Something funny?" She crooked a brow with a small smile on her beautiful face.
"Just happy to see you," I grinned. "Also, flowers and the place we had our first date and a rendezvous point? When did you become such a romantic?"
"Romantic? Is that what you call it?" she questioned with a playful smile. "I'm just trying to see how long it'll take to get you in bed again."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop myself from smiling at her comment. "You can lie all you want, I know you're a huge softly on the inside."
"Agree to disagree, gorgeous," she hummed.
Hearing her nickname for me made my heart swell with happiness. I leaned up and kissed her once again, not wanting this moment to ever end.
She kissed down to my jaw and eventually my neck. I let out a tiny whimper and my hands found their into her hair, tugging on it slightly.
She kissed her way back up to my lips and kissed me with so much intensity, I felt breathless.
Before long, she pulled away and rested her forehead against mine. Both of us catching our breaths back.
"As much as I would love to stay with you here, I actually have another destination in mind," Mona admitted.
"Well then, just lead the way."
We walked to her car, arms around each other. When we got there, she walked over to the passengers side and opened the door for me.
"Wow, I could really get used to this," I teased her.
"Don't get used to it, princess," she replied with a small smile but I could hear the sadness in her undertone.
My heart sunk, knowing it was true. God knows when was the next time I get to see her.
"Hey," she began. "I know what you're thinking. Please, don't. Just enjoy the night."
I nodded. She was right.
"Alright, so let's make the most out of it," I smiled at her as I sat in the passengers seat.
The journey didn't take long but the whole time, Mona held my hand in hers. Her grip firm yet comforting, letting me know she wouldn't let go if she had the choice.
"Okay, princess, we're here."
She insisted on closing my eyes until we actually reached her surprise for me. With a bit of tickling and struggling, I finally gave in. While both of giggled and laughed with Mona's hand around my eyes, we made our way into what I assumed was a small hut or a cabin. I could tell from the squeaky wooden planks as we walked up to the porch and the sound of a door unlocking.
"You can open your eyes now," Mona chided with a smile.
Mona lifted her hands and I was greeted with a pleasant surprise. I was right, we were in a cabin. But it wasn't run down and dingy like what the creaky floor suggested. It was beautiful.
Fairy lights hung from the ceiling and ran down the walls. Bouquets of flowers were in random corners and rose petals were scattered everywhere. Scented candles lit up the room in a soft glow and fragranced the place with a faint smell of lavender. The same scent that was present the first night we spent together. I blushed at the memory.
On one wall of the room, I spotted a table with snacks on it. Above it, a banner with colourful balloons at its side.
PROM, the banner read.
Oh, wow!
"Mona," I said breathlessly.
"Is this... too much?" she questioned, unsure. "I understand if it is, but I thought it'd be nice since your prom was ruined by the Brotherhood and I wanted to make it up to you and-"
I cut her off with a passionate kiss, pouring all me feelings into it.
"Well," she said with a smirk, gaining her confidence back. "You're welcome."
I grinned, shaking me head. "You're too much."
"But you love me anyway."
I do.
She walked over to a radio that was sitting a stool. She played some music and made her way back to me.
"Care for a dance, gorgeous?" She stretched out her hand, offering it to me. I placed my hand in her palm and she brought it up to kiss my knuckles.
"You're such a dork, you big softie," I giggled at her gesture, my cheeks turning red.
"Am not!" She scoffed.
She brought my arms over her shoulder as she held my waist. A familiar song began to play as we swayed to the rhythm.
I am the only traveler, Who has not repaid his debt.
Not long after, my head was on her shoulder while her cheek was resting against my hair, breathing in the scent of my shampoo.
I've been searching for a trail to follow again, Take me back to the night we met.
"Do you remember when we first met?" I asked her.
"How could I not?"
I had all and then most of you, Some and now none of you.
"I always thought you were cute. But I never knew you'd mean so much more."
Take me back to the night we met.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
I don't know what I'm suppose to do, Haunted by the ghost of you.
"How am I suppose to bear all of this when the night is over?" I whispered into her neck, tears forming in my eyes.
"I don't know." She said truthfully. "But we'll figure that out in the morning. Let's enjoy each other now."
Oh, take me back to the night we met.
We held on tighter to each other, our hearts beating against each other. With each other.
When the night was full of terrors, And your eyes were filled with tears.
"I was so scared I was gonna lose you that night," Mona said. "I hope you know I'm sorry for going against you and the crew. But I want you to know I'd do it all again if it meant keeping you safe."
I smiled sadly at her statement.
"I was scared I was gonna lose you too." I placed my hand over her midriff. The exact place where the bullet pierced through her skin.
When you had not touch me yet, Oh, take me back to the night we met.
I pulled back a little and looked into her eyes. Her dark eyes bore right back into mine.
"I love you. So, so much."
Her eyes glistened in the candle light. "I love you too. Don't you dare forget it."
We kissed. That kiss was nothing like I've ever experienced before. Giving her my all, and she giving me hers. It was fireworks and roller coaster but longing and regret. It was butterflies and melancholy. It was everything. It was a mess.
I had all and then most of you, Some and now none of you.
Our kiss became more heated as we slowly stumbled our way to the bed which was also covered in rose petals.
She gently pushed me into the bed and fell on top of me. Lips, hands and body, all clashing in a frenzy. Fingertips caressing one another.
Mona's fingers found their way under my shirt. She looked up at me, asking me if this was okay.
"Take me," I spoke breathlessly. "I'm all yours. Always. Especially tonight."
Take me back to the night we met.
She nodded and proceeded to remove every article of fabric from my body. I returned the favour and she took me to heaven and back.
"I love you," was the last thing I mumbled before falling asleep in her arms.
I don't know what I'm suppose to do, Haunted by the ghost of you.
I woke up to an empty bed and a note in Mona's place.
Morning gorgeous,
I'm sorry for leaving you so soon. I'll be back to you before you know it. I promise. Also, I love you too.
Yours, Mona.
Unable to help myself, I felt tears in my eyes and I lost it. I sobbed as I clutched the note to my chest.
Take me back to the night we met...
(More fics!)
#Mona x mc#mona#rod: mona#mona rod#rod#ride or die#choices: rod#choices#choices: stories you play#pixelberry#pb#fanfic#fanfiction#mona fanfic#mona fanfiction#mona x mc fanfic#mona x mc fanfiction#short story#one shot#rod fanfic#ride or die fanfic#rod fanfiction#ride or die fanfiction#my first time#please be nice thanks
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I'm nowhere near perfect about leaving comments, but I'm trying to be better about it.
From the other side it can be really easy to think, "oh, an author don't notice if I don't comment" or even "I left a kudos, isn't that enough?"
And, well. Sort of. But we do (or at least, I do) notice when there are a ton of hits, significantly less kudos, and only a couple of comments.
It can be sort of heartbreaking when you pour your time, love, and energy into something, put it out into the world, and don't really get any significant response in return.
Even if all you have as a comment is "SFWQD OH MY GOD" or "yoooo I want to see where this goes!" or even just a couple of emojis! It matters less that you said something 'meaningful' and more that you're taking the time and energy to say (by implication), I care about this enough to say something. It's an echo of the effort the author put into writing the story you're enjoying.
I believe that it's more individually impactful to say something for fics with smaller comment totals, if you can only bring yourself to do it for a handful. While it's not a hard rule, and I can only speak from personal experience + what I've seen with my friends, I think that less comments -> less motivation to keep going.
If we're putting your work into the world, we want it to be noticed. We want people to tell us, either directly or by implication, that we left even a temporary impact on you.
Hands down, my favorite comments are the questions. The ones where someone goes "okay, wait, if X is true, then does that mean Y?" or "I THINK I understand this element? It goes 123, right?" or "oh fuck oh shit you're building up to 'this thing' aren't you???" even "I'm not sure I follow what's going on here. Can you explain?"
To me, those mean that someone is critically thinking about my work. They're putting energy into trying to follow what I'm doing. They might even be trying to guess what I'm planning! Do you know how cool it is to lay the foundations for later events, have people realize what you're doing, and then tell you they've paid enough attention to catch that?
In my eyes, that's the mark of a good author. (and why I'm running three contest/scavenger hunt/guessing game type deals across various facets of my work, unsubtle plug; I want to give people an incentive to figure my shit out.)
Maybe I'm the wrong kind of person to send this message. I barely read any fic at all before I joined the DSMP fandom. Hell, I can't really say that I've been in any fandom before. I've enjoyed things, sometimes even enough to seek out some fan stuff.
But I was never part of those communities. I never put anything back into the ecosystem. I don't think I really even circulated others' content. I didn't talk with friends about those things, either.
This time, I'm not just talking with others. I'm in fan servers, I've outright gorged myself on fanfic, I'm engaged with the story, and I've literally written 500k+ in the span of a year for this fandom.
I didn't think I was capable of writing solo content or fandom content. I spent fifteen years roleplaying with original characters. I never really was able to share my work with someone other than my writing buddy, and definitely not without a giant essay about the lore and backstory.
If you've never uploaded a fic or are just unfamiliar with how AO3 works author-side (which I very much was! I still don't know a lot of stuff about it!), kudos are compiled into a single email, which then gets sent out around 5:30 am EST. It's formatted to group kudos by fic rather than by user. So if you give kudos to fics A, B, C, and D, another user gives kudos on B, and a third gives kudos on B and C, the report looks something like: [you] left kudos on "A". [you], [other], and [some guy] left kudos on "B". [you] and [some guy] left kudos on "C". [you] left kudos on "D".
So if you're worried about spamming an author with kudos, don't be! One of my favorite things is to see that someone is going through all of my work. It makes me super happy to see that someone read something and decided to read even more. I don't really remember individual people who leave kudos unprompted--like thinking "oh that person hasn't shown up in a while". But if I see that someone to regularly gives kudos leaves a comment, I can usually go "Hey, I recognize that name!"
Meanwhile, comments are sent out on an individual basis. Five comments, five alerts. Authors can get them sent to emails, sent to their AO3 inbox, both, or neither. I have no doubt some of the bigger names have one or both turned off. I can imagine it would get very overwhelming.
For me, though, I don't just have comment emails on, I have AO3 emails set to give me an alert noise on my phone. If I answer a comment within 30-45 minutes, then I spent that entire time composing my reply.
So...in conclusion, I'd say you should at least make an effort to leave comments on fics you're enjoying. If nothing else, leave a kudos on any fic you got something out of. It really can make an author's entire day.
Writing is a process that often undergoes heavy edits… that includes responding to feedback.
#fanfic#AO3#psa I guess?#ideas to live and write by#I had starting writing that as tags but it got too long lmao#I would rather die than use twitter because of how painful it would be to have that tiny tiny character limit#the toxicity only make it that much more unappealing
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