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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

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Begin Again

SUMMARY: Based on the song Begin Again by Taylor Swift. Just Tyler being a southern gentleman on a blind date to a girl who had written off love after her last relationship. FLUFF

WARNINGS: Mentions of previous toxic relationships.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

The soft hum of the phone vibrating on the kitchen counter pulled her attention away from the sink. She dried her hands on a dish towel, glancing at the screen. Dani.

She sighed, bracing herself as she answered, "Hey, Dani. What's up?"

"Hey! So, I've got something exciting to tell you!" Dani's voice was filled with that infectious enthusiasm that made it impossible to be completely irritated with her, even when she was being pushy.

"Oh no, what now?" She teased, leaning against the counter.

"Don't sound so skeptical! I've got a guy for you."

"A guy?" Her heart sank a little, the memory of her last relationship flashing in her mind. It had been almost eight months since it ended, and the wounds were still fresh. "Dani, I told you, I'm not–"

"Hear me out!" Dani interrupted, her voice taking on that determined edge. "His name is Tyler Owens. He works with me, and he's seriously one of the most down-to-earth guys I've ever met. He's funny, and kind, and honestly, he's just a great guy. I really think you two would hit it off."

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. "I don't know, Dani. I've kind of sworn off dating for a while, remember?"

"I know, I know," Dani replied, her tone softening. "But this isn't like your last relationship. Tyler's different. He's got his life together, and he's not the type to play games. Plus, it's just one date. No pressure."

She could feel the walls she'd built around herself starting to crack. Dani had a way of making things sound so simple, so easy. But it wasn't easy. Not after what she'd been through. "I just don't think I'm ready yet."

"I get it, I really do," Dani said, her voice gentle now. "But it's been almost eight months. You deserve to have some fun, to get out there again. Just give it a chance. If it's terrible, you can blame me and never let me set you up again."

There was a long pause as she considered Dani's words. She wanted to say no, to stay in her safe bubble where she didn't have to worry about getting hurt again. But at the same time, she knew she couldn't hide forever. "Fine," she finally said, a sigh escaping her lips. "I'll go. But if he's a weirdo, I'm holding you responsible."

Dani let out a squeal of delight. "Yes! You won't regret it, I promise. I'll text you the details. You're going to have a great time, I just know it."

After hanging up, she stared at her reflection in the window above the sink, a mix of apprehension and resignation swirling in her chest. She'd agreed to the date, but the week ahead was already filling her with doubt.

The days passed slowly, each one bringing with it a new wave of uncertainty. She found herself second-guessing her decision, wondering if she was really ready for this. Her last relationship had left her in pieces, and though she'd been slowly putting herself back together, there were still more bad days than good.

Some days, she'd catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror and see the shadows under her eyes, the lines of worry etched into her forehead. On those days, the idea of going on a date seemed laughable. How could she be ready for something new when she wasn't even sure she was ready for herself?

But then there were the good days. The days when she felt like maybe, just maybe, she could handle this. Dani's words echoed in her mind–she deserved to have some fun, to get out there again. Maybe Dani was right. Maybe it was time to take a chance.

Still, as the date approached, she felt the weight of doubt pressing down on her. She hadn't been in a good place mentally since the breakup, and the thought of letting someone new into her life was terrifying. But she'd promised Dani, and she wasn't one to break a promise.

The bathroom was filled with the glow of warm light, reflecting off the mirror as she stood in front of it, her makeup half-finished. She stared at her reflection, taking a deep breath to steady the fluttering in her chest. Her heart wasn't racing from excitement, but from the familiar grip of anxiety that always seemed to creep in when she thought about the past.

Her eyes drifted to the pair of high heels resting on the floor beside her. They were sleek, and elegant, and gave her that extra few inches of confidence she knew she'd need tonight. She loved how they made her feel–taller, more poised. But then, as she reached down to pick them up, a memory surfaced, uninvited.

"Why do you always wear those? You know I don't like it when you're taller than me." His voice echoed in her mind, laced with that dismissive tone she had grown to dread. Back then, she would've put the heels back in the closet and reached for the flats, just to avoid another argument. Just to keep the peace.

But tonight was different. Tonight, she was dressing for herself, not for anyone else. She slipped her feet into the heels, feeling the familiar boost in height and the way they made her legs look longer. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she straightened up, admiring her reflection once more. This is who I am, she thought, pushing away the remnants of his voice.

With her makeup finished and her hair styled just right, she turned to leave the bathroom. As she reached the front door, she hesitated for a moment before locking it behind her, as if securing herself away from the memories she didn't want to carry with her tonight.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, she pulled her headphones from her purse and placed them in her ears. She scrolled through her playlist until she found the song she always turned to when she needed a boost–a song that made her feel like she could take on the world.

The music filled her ears, and for a moment, she let herself get lost in the melody, the familiar rhythm soothing her nerves. But then, like a shadow creeping into her mind, she remembered his words. "I don't get why you like this song. It's so...repetitive." He'd said it with that same condescending smirk he always had when he didn't approve of something she enjoyed.

Her steps faltered for just a second, the weight of his disapproval tugging at her. But she forced herself to keep walking, pushing the memory away. She turned the volume up, letting the music drown out his voice. This is my night, she reminded herself. Not his.

As she made her way down the street toward the restaurant, she tried to focus on the music, the city lights, and anything that would keep her mind from drifting back to him. But it was hard. He had a way of lingering in the corners of her thoughts, even when she didn't want him there. Even now, as she tried to move forward, she could feel the invisible strings of the past pulling at her, trying to reel her back in.

But she wouldn't let them. Not tonight.

She walked down the bustling street, her heels clicking against the pavement as she approached the restaurant Dani had chosen. The address was saved in her phone, but she barely needed to glance at it–she knew where she was going.

What she didn't know was whether or not she really wanted to be there. Her mind buzzed with thoughts of past disappointments. Her ex had a habit of being late, often leaving her waiting alone, making excuses that always seemed flimsy in retrospect. Worse, there were times when he wouldn't show up at all, leaving her sitting at a table for two that might as well have been a table for one. Those memories weighed heavily on her, feeding her doubts. She wouldn't be surprised if tonight was just more of the same.

But as she turned the corner and the restaurant came into view, she noticed a man standing outside, leaning casually against the wall. He was tall, with a rugged look that was softened by the easy smile on his face. Cowboy boots, dark jeans, and a button-up shirt. He looked exactly like the guy in the picture Dani had sent her.

He's early? The thought caught her off guard, and for a moment, she wasn't sure what to do with it. She had been so prepared for disappointment that the sight of him waiting for her–ahead of time, no less–was almost disorienting.

As she approached, he looked up, meeting her eyes, and that smile widened. He waved, and she felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of nerves and something else she hadn't felt in a long time. Something that felt like hope.

"You must be Dani's friend," he said, his voice warm and inviting as she reached him.

She nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, that's me. And you're Tyler, right?"

"That's right," he said with a grin. "Nice to finally meet you."

He held out his hand, and after a brief hesitation, she took it. His grip was firm, reassuring. So different from... She quickly pushed the thought aside, not wanting to tarnish this moment with comparisons to the past.

Tyler opened the door for her, gesturing for her to go in first. "Shall we?"

Inside, the diner was cozy, with checkered tablecloths and soft lighting that gave it a warm, inviting feel. As they followed the hostess to their table, Tyler moved ahead slightly and pulled out her chair. It was such a simple gesture, one that might have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but to her, it meant something more.

Her ex never pulled out her chair. He barely held doors open for her. Little things like that were always too much trouble for him, or so he'd made her feel. But Tyler did it without a second thought as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't a grand gesture, but it felt like one to her, and she couldn't help but smile as she sat down.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a bit softer than she intended.

Tyler took his seat across from her, brushing it off with a casual wave of his hand. "No problem at all. I'm just glad you made it out tonight."

As they settled in, she realized something–this was different. He was different. The anxiety that had been knotting in her stomach all week began to unravel, just a little, as she started to see Tyler for who he was: someone who was already proving himself to be kind and considerate, something who was a stark contrast to the man she'd been so afraid to find again.

Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be like before.

The soft clatter of plates and low hum of conversation filled the diner as they sat across from each other, menus in hand. She glanced over the options, feeling the weight of the silence between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, just quiet–a moment of stillness before things really began. They ordered their drinks and quickly decided to share an appetizer, sending the waitress off with their choices.

As the waitress walked away, Tyler turned his attention back to her, a relaxed smile playing on his lips. "So, Dani tells me you're an artist?"

She nodded, feeling a bit of warmth rise to her cheeks. "Yeah, I do graphic design. Mostly freelance."

"That's cool," Tyler said, his eyes lighting up with genuine interest. "I've always admired people who can create things like that. I can barely draw a stick figure."

She chuckled softly, the sound surprising her. It had been a while since she felt this at ease with someone new. "It's not as hard as it looks, once you get the hang of it. Plus, it helps pay the bills."

He leaned in slightly, resting his arms on the table. "So, what kind of projects do you usually work on?"

She hesitated for a moment, expecting the usual disinterest she'd grown accustomed to. But there was something about Tyler's expression–open, attentive–that made her want to share more. "I do a lot of logo designs for small businesses. Sometimes I get to work on branding for local events or create custom illustrations. It's always something different, which I like."

Tyler nodded, his smile widening. "Sounds like you get to be creative and make a living out of it. That's the dream, right?"

"Yeah, I guess it is." She smiled back, a genuine one this time, feeling herself relax even more. "I guess it's kind of like you and the YouTube channel right? You're doing something you love, and get to share it with the world."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess it is."

The conversation flowed easily from there. They talked about the quirks of working freelance, the challenges of finding clients, and the freedom that came with her setting her own schedule. Tyler shared stories from his work as a storm chaser, describing the thrill of the chase and the close calls that kept his adrenaline pumping. She found herself leaning forward, hanging on his every word as he recounted the time he and his team were nearly caught in the path of a twister, only to escape with moments to spare.

"And there we were," Tyler said, his eyes wide with excitement, "huddled in this tiny storm shelter with the wind howling outside, thinking we were done for. But when the storm passed, we came out and saw that it had just missed us by a couple hundred yards. It was the closest call to an EF5 that we've ever had."

She laughed, not just at the story, but at the way he told it, with such animated gestures and an infectious energy that made it impossible not to smile. "That sounds terrifying, but also kind of amazing. I don't know how you do it."

Tyler shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, someone's got to do it. Plus, I get to see some incredible things out there. It's worth the risk."

She found herself smiling again, and it felt good. It felt easy. And that was the most surprising part–how natural it was to talk to him, how quickly the tension she'd been carrying all day seemed to melt away in his presence.

Their drinks arrived, and they clinked glasses, sharing a light-hearted toast to "surviving the week" as Tyler put it. When the appetizer came, they dug in, continuing their conversation without missing a beat.

Tyler kept the conversation going, steering clear of anything too personal or probing. Instead, they exchanged stories about awkward first jobs, favorite movies, and the weird things their friends had done to embarrass them over the years. He was funny, quick with a joke or a witty comment that had her laughing more than she expected to. And when she made a joke–a little self-deprecating comment about her tendency to burn toast–he threw his head back and laughed, a deep, genuine laugh that caught her off guard.

He thinks I'm funny? The thought lingered in her mind, unfamiliar but pleasant. Her ex never really laughed at her jokes, often dismissing them or giving her that condescending smile that made her feel small. But Tyler...Tyler laughed as if he meant it like he actually found her amusing. And that made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time–validated, seen.

As the evening went on, she realized how much she was enjoying herself. She wasn't overthinking every word, wasn't second-guessing every response. It was just...easy. Comfortable. She hadn't expected that, and the realization both thrilled and scared her. Maybe this could be different. Maybe he really is different.

They were halfway through their meal when she caught herself smiling, genuinely smiling, and it struck her just how rare that had become. Maybe I needed this, she thought, taking another sip of her drink. Maybe this is exactly what I needed.

As the dinner wound down, the waitress approached their table with a polite smile. "Are you ready for the check?"

Tyler nodded, glancing briefly at her before turning back to the waitress. "Yes, please."

"Will that be on one check or two?" the waitress asked, pen poised over her notepad.

Before she could say anything, Tyler answered, "One check will be fine." He reached for his wallet without hesitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She watched him hand over his card, feeling a small flutter of surprise. It wasn't that she expected anything different, but it still felt...odd. He didn't even ask. Her ex always made a point of splitting the bill, an unspoken rule that she'd grown accustomed to over the years. They had never had just one check between them, as if even that small gesture of unity was too much to ask. But Tyler paid for dinner like it was nothing like it was just what he did.

When the waitress returned with the receipt, he signed it and stood up, offering her a hand. She accepted it, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers as he helped her out of the booth.

As they stepped outside, the cool November evening air wrapped around her, causing an involuntary shiver to run down her spine. She wished she had thought to bring a jacket, but in her nervousness, it had slipped her mind.

Without missing a beat, Tyler shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. "Here, take this."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Are you sure? Won't you be cold?"

He grinned, shaking his head. "I'll be fine. You need it more than I do."

She pulled the coat tighter around herself, feeling the residual warmth from his body heat. It was such a simple gesture, but it meant more to her than she could easily put into words. He gave me his coat, she thought, marveling at the difference. Her ex had never done anything like that, not once. She couldn't even recall a time when he'd offered, let alone insisted.

They started walking towards his car, the conversation flowing easily between them. Tyler pointed out the constellation of Christmas lights twinkling from a nearby shop window, and she found herself smiling, genuinely enjoying the moment.

As they strolled, she almost mentioned her ex, the words on the tip of her tongue. It was such an ingrained habit now, to measure every man she met against that old standard, to compare and contrast and remember all the ways she'd been let down. But before she could speak, Tyler started talking about his family's Christmas traditions, the movies they watched every year without fail. The conversation turned light and nostalgic, and she found herself laughing along with him.

Maybe I don't need to bring him up, she thought. Maybe I don't need to talk about the past at all.

For the first time in eight months, she felt that pull, that desire to leave what was behind her exactly where it belonged–in the past. She looked over at Tyler, his smile easy and warm, and she felt a flicker of something new. Something hopeful.

The night had settled into a comfortable quiet as they left the restaurant, walking side by side. The cold air nipped at her cheeks, and she pulled Tyler's coat tighter around her, savoring the warmth. They approached the corner where she usually turned to walk home, but before she could say anything, Tyler stopped and looked at her.

"It's freezing out here," he said, concern lacing his voice. "Let me drive you home."

She hesitated, instinctively pulling back. "Oh, you don't have to do that. It's not far, really."

He gave her a gentle, reassuring smile. "I know, but I'd feel better if you weren't out here in the cold. Please, let me give you a ride."

His politeness, his genuine care for her comfort–it was all so different. She nodded, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Okay. Thank you."

They walked back to his car, and he opened the passenger door for her, waiting until she was comfortably seated before closing it gently. The car was warm, and she relaxed into the seat as they drove, the conversation continuing in its easy, unforced way.

When they arrived at her apartment, Tyler parked the car and got out, walking around to her side to open the door. He offered his hand to help her out, and she took it, stepping onto the sidewalk with a small smile.

"Thank you," she said softly, glancing up at him. "For the ride. And dinner."

"You're welcome," he replied, his voice warm. "I had a great time tonight."

They walked up the steps to her front door, and she felt a familiar pang of anxiety. This was the moment when things usually soured, where her ex would barely say goodbye before heading back to his car if he even bothered to get out at all. But Tyler stood with her, not rushing, not pushing for anything more than a simple goodnight.

"Well," he said, a touch of hesitation in his voice, "I guess this is goodnight."

She nodded, her heart beating a little faster. "Yeah, I guess so."

He smiled at her, and for a moment, it felt like the world stood still. He wasn't rushing to leave, and he wasn't pressing her for anything. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. "Goodnight," he said, his voice soft and sincere.

"Goodnight," she echoed, her hand lingering on the door handle. She watched him turn and start walking back to his car, her mind racing. He was already so different from what she was used to, so thoughtful, so kind. For the past eight months, she had convinced herself that all love ever did was break, burn, and end. But tonight felt different. Tonight, it felt like something new was beginning.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Fluff

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 1 month ago

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resignation letter. l Javi Gutierrez

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔

Summary: when he came home and he wasn't alone

Warnings: angst, sad, ending a relationship, a glass of champagne

A/N: sorry for these scribbles. I hope that despite everything you will stay with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

The heavy mahogany door opened and you saw Lucas' slim figure coming out of the office. He walked confidently and stopped in front of the desk you were working at. His long fingers tapped gently on the counter.

"Everything okay?" he asked, smiling at you in a friendly way.

You nodded, "Yeah. Successful meeting?"

"Definitely." Lucas threw a quick glance at the ajar door, his eyes after a moment returned to you, "You're a real decoration of this office, darling. My cousin has very good taste."

"I think Mr. Gutiérrez didn't hire me because of my looks." You replied, smiling, "But thank you for the compliment."

Lucas smiled again, nodded goodbye and quickly headed towards the exit. You waited a few more minutes before getting up from the chair and heading towards Javi's office.

He was sitting behind the desk, clearly lost in thought. Dark, curly hair fell over his forehead, and his linen shirt rose with every breath he took.

Watching him was one of your favorite things to do. A soft knock tore him from his thoughts.

"A penny for your thoughts?" you asked as you entered.

"I don't know if they're worth that much." Javi replied, forcing a smile.

"Is something worrying you?" you asked, approaching the desk and looking at it with concern.

Javi scratched his nose as if he was thinking about something. "I'll have to leave tomorrow." he announced, getting up from his chair. "I have something to do in Madrid."

"Oh, I didn't know. Something urgent?"

"Very much."

You nodded. "Should I fly with you or..."

"Stay here." He finished for you and reached for his phone. "I'll be back in a few days."

"Sure."

Javi smiled a little nervously and left the office, leaving you with many questions in your head. You were his assistant and friend, you talked about a thousand different things and he didn't really have any secrets from you.

But now...

It had been a pretty boring three days without Javi, although you managed to sort out your documents, reply to a few overdue emails and do things you had been putting off until "someday."

This place was empty without Javi, you felt empty too. You loved his charming and sweet personality, the way he treated you and how close you were. Because even though he was your boss, you felt that he treated you completely differently. And you also had a strange weakness for him.

You didn't see him when he came back because you were busy organizing his birthday party that was to take place at his residence. It was already late when you were heading towards his apartment carrying a bottle of good wine and popcorn.

It was Thursday, or a little weekend as Javi called this day. You always watched a movie on Thursday evening, it was your tradition and you hoped that despite his departure Javi didn't forget about it.

However, when you knocked and the door was opened by a slim blonde with beautiful blue eyes, you lost your breath for a moment.

Your name slipped out of her mouth along with a charming smile "You have to be Javi's assistant, right?" she asked looking at you "Javi talked a lot about you. Is this for us?"

"I... Yes." you finally managed, "Today's Thursday so I thought..."

"Sweetie! Your lovely assistant brought us some snacks and wine." the woman called into the room.

"Thursday Movie Night!" Javi called back, and from the echo you guessed he was in the bathroom, "I'm almost ready."

"I don't think he'll need you anymore today. Thank you, have a nice night." she smiled at you once more, and you didn't even say a word as the door closed in your face.

Her name was Veronica and she was as beautiful as the models on the covers of glossy magazines.

You have seen her almost everywhere since then and always with Javi. By the pool, in the garden, even in his office. You felt terrible when you had to go in there and she was giggling at some joke he told her.

It was easy to dislike her, but you didn't want to. Javi was a grown man, he could make decisions. And you were just his assistant.

Maybe it was your own fault? Maybe your imagination gave more meaning to all those nice gestures, shared meals and hours of conversations that you shared with him?

You wanted to learn to enjoy their happiness, but you felt more and more isolated.

It didn't surprise you when during Javi's birthday party, Veronica was by his side. Everything was perfect, and so was she. And Javi... Shit! You shouldn't think of him that way, he was your boss!

"You're hiding here." a sweet voice reached your ears as you moved away from the crowd of guests for a moment.

She was wearing a beautiful crimson dress that wonderfully emphasized her shapes. The champagne you had just drunk seemed like a weak choice for that moment.

"I wanted to take a breath." you replied. "Do you need anything?"

Veronica pouted and shook her head. "This is a wonderful party. You spent a lot of time organizing it for Javi."

"Everything was his idea, I was just following orders." you replied nervously, swirling the glass in your hands. "Can I help you in any other way?"

The girl looked at you almost with pity. Women like her dazzled everyone around them, and you were no exception.

"I wish you wouldn't delude yourself with the hope that Javi would ever see you as more than an employee." she said, and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine "Yes, he had a soft spot for you, he told me himself. But that was a long time ago... I'm not blind though, sweetie. I see how you look at him." a wave of heat flooded your neck, you tightened your fingers around the glass "Oh, don't hide it! Javi is a handsome man with a wonderful heart. And being infatuated with your boss is a normal thing."

"I don't..." you started, but the rest of the words couldn't get out of your throat.

You were so surprised that it was a miracle that you were even standing on your feet. Veronica smiled indulgently at you and tenderly stroked your arm.

"I have one piece of advice, sweetie." she said almost with concern "Leave him alone. Don't break your heart any more."

She left you on the terrace completely speechless. Emotions were coursing through your body along with the alcohol you had consumed, and you could hardly draw a breath. How on earth had Veronica guessed everything? Were you really that pathetic?

Javi was your boss, you shouldn't have...

"Fuck!" you hissed as the crystal glass slipped from your shaking hands and shattered on the stone floor.

Tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn't stay there any longer.

Your absence had been very obvious since morning, but Javi hadn't noticed it until he had entered his office for a moment and seen the white envelope lying on his desk. He recognized your handwriting immediately.

That day, you had left your resignation letter on his desk. Very formal. Very dry. So not yours.

You didn't want to humiliate yourself even more. You did what you had to do, even if it hurt.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez #the unbearable weight of massive talent #pedro pascal #a few ways to break a heart

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minjiarchive · 9 months ago

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my way or fuck it out | jiu x fem!reader

i'll stop shit posting for now just to feed you all 🥲

warnings / smut, mommy kink (lolol i wish i could stop with the mommy kink with minji)

Minji doesn't always choose 'fucking it out' as an option to handle bad behavior.

That's only when it comes to other people though.

She's the leader in her group and sometimes her position can bleed into your relationship and sex, which is why she didn't tolerate the way you teased her all night during dinner with the other girls.

It was an innocent game after all – but that's if you didn't get her wet in the process of teasing her earlier. You enjoyed watching her flushed and fucked out face every time you touched her under the table,

Minji doesn't take your game very lightly and in fact, she lays out all the different ways she could handle you on the drive back home.

She sat in the passenger seat of the car while you were seated at the back. The distance seemed good for now, she was able to settle whatever the fuck happened earlier in silence.

“Any reason you wanted to tease me tonight?” Minji texts, hearing your phone chime from the back of the van. You smile to yourself, knowing it's a message from her since she's the only one awake in the car.

“Nope.”

Your single-worded message is funny to her, she knows you'd never be that bold if she was on top of you.

“You're being such a brat, I hate it.” She doesn't really hate it, it just gives her a bigger excuse to be rough with you.

Minji notices your smirk grow bigger in the rear-view mirror, you aren't subtle at all, she suspects. She's prepared for a message that's going to get her wet (again) or another snarky remark from you.

And if she could pick, she'd rather want the message that would get her wet.

“It's not a big deal, unnie.”

Minji slacks her jaw at your text, it's like you're purposely trying to get on her last nerve. This conversation was going nowhere at all and not in the way she wanted to handle it. Minji is a composed woman though, working her thoughts by herself, so she thinks of ways to approach her last few texts to you since you'd be arriving at the dorm soon.

She quickly types the one phrase that always has that effect on you, “Is that so?”

You could say she gave you a million chances tonight, turning down all those opportunities to be good just to turn her on. And you don’t process how severe you've already made the situation, Minji can take a little more of your games, you're sure of it.

“Yeah?”

Yeah.

Minji isn't really having it with you this time, she knows that her messages will never get through your head until she does something – touch you, fuck you. You aren't close to deserving a simple request like that and with the time you have left until you reach the dorm, she doesn't have the patience to take care of your mess anymore.

“Tell Bora she's sleeping alone tonight, you're coming with me to my room.”

“It's a shame that you don't get to be loud tonight,” she speaks, her voice low and calm while she positions you on her lap, “because you obviously want to be a smart ass and you don't know your place, do you?”

You're honestly losing your shit and you don't know how to reply. She isn't wrong, she's never wrong, but you don't want to admit that she's right.

It's embarrassing to say the least.

You feel humiliated just squirming when she's barely touched you, skin already feeling sensitive. You choose not to say anything and nod at her words instead, which is a horrible idea for tonight.

She slaps the side of your thigh, not as hard as she would if she slapped your ass instead but still left a lingering sting.

“Words.”

The way heat traveled to your center almost immediately made you question what unhealed part of you was so attracted to that. Maybe it's the disciplining part in this, her voice, or maybe everything about her has you down to her mercy, all of the above could work.

“I do know my place, I'm sorry mommy,” your words slipping out faster from the desperation.

“Good, now,” her fingers gripping your jaw, making sure she has your full attention, “you're going to take my fingers, okay? Don't fight it.”

One second, you're clenching around nothing, another second, and you clench around her slender digits.

She pumps her fingers in a monitored pace, stretching your cunt out with each thrust. Your mouth fell open, letting out moan after moan as your legs spread wider for her. Minji keeps your legs there, using her one free hand to push your thigh open.

“Tell mommy how sorry you are.”

“I'm sorry... I'm sorry,” you whine, stuttering over your pleas when her palm starts rubbing faster against your clit.

She enjoys herself, loving how easy it is to fuck this side out of you, hearing you beg for her. Minji finds you so pretty like this, all open and flushed out for her as you let her do whatever she wants. Although she can't see your face directly, she knows the rush she’ll get seeing your flustered face afterward.

Minji doesn't think it's enough though. This is your punishment, it's not supposed to be quick and easy,

“Are you getting close?” Minji asks.

“Yes, please, I'm gonna cum.”

She wasn't sure who gave you permission to cum but you were far from earning that now.

Minji's question was soon followed by her fingers slowly leaving your entrance, the pressure on your clit gone. Your soul entering your body again once the pleasure is all taken away. It would be a long night of edging if you think you'd be let off that fast.

You cried out, “No, no, please! I'm sorry for misbehaving earlier, I promise it won't happen again...”

Minji believes you, you're so good for her already. Words are important to her play though, she'd always remind you to use your words when you forget which is often lately. But you're lucky that Minji is a patient girl because she has no problem with giving you reminders, she understands that it takes time.

She hasn't had all her fun yet – so she isn't satisfied. You're aware of how embarrassingly quick it took for you to get close, it wouldn't be fair if she didn't tease you just a little bit more.

“And how are you going to prove that to me?”

Her fingers were covered in your slick, making it easier to spread it throughout your folds, your breath picking up when her thumb rolls over your clit. Minji hears you very clearly and uses it to her advantage, running a few more strokes along your swollen bud.

She wants you broken down to your lowest, having you reach your high multiple times that you can't speak without sobs coming out.

Minji pulls every muscle in your body to its peak, hips jerking up and your walls tensing tighter. It feels too good that you almost forget to answer her question in which you scrambled to speak before further consequences,

“I-I'm sorry, please... I'll let you fix my attitude by making me cum as many times as you want.”

“Good girl, baby,” Minji praising, “I'll fuck you so hard that you'll think twice before acting up again.”

#edged at the end bc if i write too much then #writers block will be 100x worse #i'll make a pt2 if i can i promise #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher smut #dreamcatcher #jiu scenarios #jiu imagines #jiu x reader #jiu smut #wlw #wlw smut #kpop smut

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invalidstories · 8 months ago

Text

Enemies at the Café

Warnings: suicide mentions, dark themes

The moon hung low in the night sky casting a soft glow casting over the rooftop where Hero and Villain always found themselves locked in conflict. Each breath they took was visible in the cold foggy night.

Villain's eyes gleamed with malice as they observed Hero's approach, every step deliberate, every movement calculated. They had spent their whole night planning and preparing to show of their newest device to Hero.

But as Hero drew nearer, Villain couldn't help but notice the weariness etched into their features, their shoulders slumped with the burden of their endless battles, and the dark circles under their eyes from sleepless nights.

"You're late," Villain taunted, their voice dripping with contempt as they walked towards their nemesis.

Hero rolled their eyes, a wry smile playing at their lips. "Oh, please," they retorted. "Like I have anything better to do than deal with you."

Villain bristled, their grip tightening on their weapon. But before they could act, Hero held up a hand, resigned.

"Save it," Hero sighed. "I'm done playing this game. Just shoot me and get it over with."

Caught off guard by Hero's surrender, Villain hesitated, their weapon hovering in midair as they stared at their enemy in disbelief. Never had they imagined Hero would surrender so easily.

"There's no fun in fighting a hero who doesn't want to fight," Villain replied softly, their voice gentle as they lowered their weapon and took a step forward. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

Hero said nothing as they allowed Villain to hold their hand and lead them away, their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.

As they disappeared into the darkness, Villain couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over them. At that moment, they realized that victory meant nothing without a worthy adversary to challenge them.

As they reached the end of the street, the Villain hesitated, turning to face Hero.

"Hey," they said softly, "I know this might seem like an odd question, but... do you want to grab a coffee with me?"

Hero blinked in surprise, the weariness momentarily forgotten as they met Villain's gaze. And for the first time in a long while, a small smile tugged at the corners of their lips.

"Yeah," Hero replied, "Sure."

Entering the cozy coffee shop, the atmosphere shifted from the chill of the night to the warm embrace of coffee and soft murmurs. Hero couldn't help but chuckle at one of Villain's jokes, the tension of their earlier encounter slowly easing.

Sitting across from each other, Villain couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Hero's demeanor. The weariness that had weighed them down moments before had been replaced by a spark of life in their eyes.

"You seem a bit better," Villain remarked, a teasing grin playing on their lips as they took a sip of their coffee.

Hero chuckled, a faint blush dusting their cheeks. "Yeah, well, you're surprisingly good company," they admitted, their voice soft.

"Told you," Villain smirked taking another sip of their drink.

But as the laughter faded, Villain's expression softened as concern crept into their features. "Hey, Hero," they began, their voice serious. "I know we've had our differences, but... I think you could benefit from some help."

Hero's smile faltered, their gaze dropping to the table as they considered Villain's words. It wasn't often that they heard genuine concern from their nemesis.

"I'll think about it," Hero replied, their voice soft but resolute. "Thanks though, Villain. For everything."

Villain grinned, reaching across the table to give Hero's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Anytime, Hero," they said, "Just don't forget to bring your sense of humor next time."

The hero couldn't help but smile at the playful jab, the weight of their troubles momentarily lifted by the simple act of having an unlikely but nice companion. As they walked home, Hero felt a glimmer of hope that maybe they didn't have to face their struggles alone anymore.

"In the end, we're all just humans, trying to find our way in this chaotic world."

Masterlist

#reading #writers on tumblr #hero x villain #short story #villain x hero #hero #villain #villainsxheroes #writing snippet #enemies to friends trope #coffee date #writing #writer #writerscommunity #i'm so tired #i don't know what it is #or what im doing #invalidstories

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ravenloop · 2 years ago

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Hi, I'm kinda new to Tumblr and I really want a Thor and Kratos reacting to a powerful yet apathetic reader who doesn't really care if they get hurt or die in the end, because whenever they get in a fight they somehow always end up winning.

You don't really have to do this request if you don't want to :)

Headcanons: Thor and Kratos w/ a powerful, apathetic S/O

AN: Made this a lot more angsty than I intended lol Hope you enjoy and that it was what you wanted <33

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

Thor:

Thor is a rowdy person.

He's someone who always tells himself not to think. That it's a waste of time.

So when you fight and don't care about strategy or how things might turn out, he doesn't think much of it. He actually likes it, some people think too much in a fight and that's just boring in his eyes.

There is no reason for him to tell you to stop, not when you're both stepping over and crushing your enemies like they're nothing but dirt.

Sometimes though, you take it a little too far in a fight. Too far to where you could have been killed. And that's when he realises that you need to be more careful.

"You know, those things can still kill you," Thor says, as he brings down Mjolnir on an enemy one last time - ending them. You turn to him, with a bored look on your face, and shrug, "I'm still alive."

He turns to you, "I'm just saying you should be more careful. Just because you're powerful doesn't mean you're unkillable." It was a strange thing to tell your partner that they could be killed, but Thor was just making sure you kept safe. He didn't want your head too high in the clouds.

You licked your teeth, sighing, "So far I haven't been killed." "That's not my point-" He walked closer, "You shouldn't be so reckless." Your brow raised, "Thor - I don't think you should be telling me this. You're no different."

If there was one thing he despised, it was arguing with you - arguing with the one person he loved. "I know, but you take it too far sometimes and just expect everything to be fine. I just don't want you to be injured... Or dead."

It was the way you stared at him that caused him to worry more, your gaze was blank.

Turning around and glancing over your shoulder at Thor, you said, "Thank you for worrying, Thor. But I'll just stick to what I'm doing and plus... I always win." Then you walked off.

Thor wanted to say something, but what? It was like you lacked any emotion and care for yourself, and he hated it. He didn't want to lose you, but you clearly didn't care if you lost yourself. With a sigh, he hooked Mjolnir on his belt and followed you.

Kratos:

Kratos is someone who tries to be a better person. His past haunts his every step, and because of that, he tries to change. To forget.

But your lack of empathy and care, he hated to say it, but it reminded him of who he was.

You fought like nothing mattered. Like life itself was nothing but an object that could easily be remade or replaced - it wasn't.

He watched how you would tear through your enemies, like they were Nothing. Like they couldn't kill you. Like you were untouchable.

Even if you were untouchable, he didn't see that as a reason for you to act like it. Strategy in a fight was always better than rash behaviour.

"You fight recklessly." Kratos approached you as you flicked a piece of your enemies' remains off your clothing. "And?" You looked up at him, "I still came out the victor."

"What if you didn't?" His gravely voice became louder when he stopped in front of you. Deepening your frown, you replied, "I always come out alive. No one is a match for me." "Do not act like you are invulnerable," He continued talking even as you turned to pick up your weapon, "Fighting and abandoning all care and worry is not how a real, powerful person would fight."

Turning on your heel, you asked, "Are you saying I'm not powerful? That I'm not a real fighter?" "I'm saying that you should learn to care about yourself!" Roughly his hands landed on your shoulders, "I do not want to lose you."

That was the first time you heard Kratos' voice so low - so quiet and gentle. It was a surprise indeed.

You were silent as you stared into your lover's eyes. You shrugged his hands off, "I will care... when I'm dead."

No. No, he couldn't let you think like that. Like how he used to think.

"You are choosing a dangerous way." You chuckled, it was cold and not heartfelt in the slightest, "Yeah, well... It's my way." Turning around, you started walking, "And it's kept me alive so far."

#god of war #god of war ragnarök #god of war x reader #gow x reader #thor x reader #kratos x reader #reader insert

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weemsfreak · 1 year ago

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hii can u write a fanfic with r having troubles with their powers n larissa calming them down?

Yes I can! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!!

Shifter

It was your first year at Nevermore Academy. You liked your classes and you made some friends, so you figured it was going pretty well. Your ability presented itself a couple years ago when you felt the urge to shift from your normal form.

You didn't know why you felt like this at first, as your parents had never told you about anything that may make you feel like this. It felt like an out of body experience, like you wanted to temporarily transform into something or someone that you were not. Once you asked your parents about the feeling, they nervously informed you that you may be a shapeshifter, and a while later they shipped you off to Nevermore Academy. They couldn't help you with this feeling, no matter how bad they wanted to. You did have outcasts in your family, but neither of them were outcasts (which made you question things). Alas, you found yourself in Jericho, surrounded by all different types of outcasts. You watched as vampires gathered around a table in the quad, drinking their blood for lunch. Sirens sat around the fountain, charming as they were, talking up a storm. Werewolves sitting at a table not eating, but gossiping excitedly about the full moon tonight. And there were gorgons, hiding behind their hats, along with psychics and other types of outcasts around here somewhere. But as you looked around at everyone in the quad, you felt totally left out. Perhaps you were really an outcast among outcasts, for you did not know of another shapeshifter.

You sighed as you watched Enid approach your table, Wednesday in hand and Ajax trailing behind. "Hi Y/N, what’s for lunch?" the werewolf questioned. "Utter defeat and self pity. Oh I mean salad" you replied chuckling, defeat written on your face. "What's wrong?" Ajax asked. "I just, I don't have anyone to help me with my ability. I don't know any other shapeshifters" you said as you stared down into your lunch. Wednesday raised a brow and looked at Enid. "Well, I'm sure there are some around. Perhaps they're just keeping it secret" Enid chirped, trying to make you feel better. You huffed, "Yea, maybe." "You can practice around us Y/N, if you want to. We won't judge" Ajax said with a smile. You hadn't shifted in awhile even though you had the urge to, you were too scared you would mess it up. "Okay, maybe I'll try it. Who should I shift into?" You and your friends looked around before they all caught a glimpse of the clueless Principal Weems, standing by the entrance to the school, her hands clasped in front of her. "Shift into Weems" Wednesday said, verbally expressing what they were all thinking. Even though there was a possibility that you might get into trouble, you agreed. "So that I can be in charge of the school?" you questioned, laughing at the thought. "Exactly!" Enid squealed, clapping her hands together. You stood up and watched Weems, her mannerisms and her expressions. You watched the way she smiled at students when they greeted her, and the way she carried herself. You got a good look at her figure, and the way she talked. You took a deep breath and tried to transform into her, taking all things into account. You looked back at your friends with hope, feeling different from your usual self. You looked down at your hands, they were Principal Weems' hands. You looked down at your outfit, it was the one she was wearing today. You felt really tall, you towered over everyone. You smiled as you looked at your friends, praying that you had finally succeeded. That was until Enid brought a mirror up to your face, showing you just how you looked. You frowned as you noticed your face wasn't right, your lips too small and your eyes not as alluring. Your hair was messy and your skin wasn't pale enough, perhaps you just needed a better look at her. You tried to talk but what came out was your normal speaking voice, definitely lacking a British accent. You verbally let out a huff as you shifted back to your normal self, taking a seat at the picnic table. "It's just the details Y/N, you did well besides that" Enid reassured you. "Yea, it's like Weems' not as fancy sister" Ajax joined in. Enid glared at him and punched his arm, silently telling him to shut it. You let out a small chuckle, "Thanks guys, I'll get it eventually."

As your friends all left for their next class, you stayed in the quad. You had next class off, so you figured you'd do your reading. Once most of the students had left, you let your head hit the table, letting out a small scream. You held back tears as you watched your arm transform into that of Principal Weems. Well, at least you could transform certain parts, if not everything. You covered your head with your hands and cursed yourself for being so stupid. At one point you thought it would be easy to get a hold of your ability. The thing about abilities was, you could just ignore the fact that you had them if you wanted to. Except you couldn't, not really. The way that the urge to shift poked at your insides and clawed itself out of you with no remorse made you have to shift in some way, often. Shifting was in your blood, and you couldn't rid it no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how hard you tried. As you thought about it more and more, tears pooled up in your eyes. You gathered your things and started walking to your dorm with your head down, defeated. As you walked into the school, you turned the corner and bumped into someone. You noticed their shoes through the tears in your eyes, nude colored kitten heels. You gasped as you looked up, you were almost face to face with the woman you had pretty much just tried to make yourself a clone of. "S-sorry Principal Weems" you said sheepishly, moving to the right and trying to run past her. She took hold of your arm and swung you around, stopping you in your tracks. She smiled, "Y/N, will you follow me to my office?"

You trailed behind her as she made her way to her office, your mind was going a mile a minute. Had she seen you try to shift into her and look absolutely ridiculous? Was she going to scold you for trying to steal the principal's identity? Was she angry at you for using your powers at lunch? Little did you know, Principal Weems had seen you shift, but she didn’t think anything bad of you. She had been in your spot once in her life, hell, more than once. When she attended Nevermore, she had a teacher who helped her learn to shift, she didn't think she would ever be as good at it as she is today. Now, she wanted to be that mentor for you, she wanted to return the favour.

As you entered her office, she sat on the couch in front of the fire place and gestured for you to sit. As you sat beside her, you looked up at her features. She had full red lips, a scar on her top left lip, and deep smile lines. She had a small nose, a dip on the left side. She was pretty pale, almost as pale as her hair was white. Her hair wasn't white, actually, just extremely light. It looked soft, like silk, that would be hard to duplicate. Her eyes were big and blue and mesmerizing with little wrinkles on the outside corners, but you already knew that. She had thin eyebrows that made a crease when they furrowed, like right now. "Are you trying to memorize my face, Y/N?" the older woman questioned. You blushed, looking away from her wide eyed. "No, uh, sorry Principal Weems" you stuttered out. How did she know? Were you being that obvious? The woman chuckled, "It's alright if you were, Y/N. I saw you shift in the quad today." You looked up at her as she raised a brow, expecting you to tell her what was going on. You took a sharp breath in, "Ugh I'm sorry Principal Weems. I just, I'm not good at shifting and I don't understand how I'm supposed to get good if I don't know any other shifters. And I know I shouldn't shift into you but my friends thought it would be funny. It was dumb because I can't do it right anyway." You spit out your apology so fast that once you felt tears well up in your eyes, they were streaming down your face. You covered your face when they fell, feeling embarrassed by your lack of control over your ability. What happened in the quad today may not have seemed like a big deal, but you have been failing at shifting a lot recently. The principal got up to fetch some tissues and returned next to you, rubbing the small of your back for comfort. You sniffled and cried into your hands as your breathing became uneven. The woman wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close to her and stroking your hair. "Take deep breaths for me, love." You tried to breathe deep and slow but it took a couple minutes for you to stop crying. As you sniffled, the principal shushed you and rocked you gently. You wrapped your arms around her waist and cuddled into her shoulder to calm yourself down. You mumbled against her, "This is a stupid ability, there are no other shifters around. Why couldn't I just be a vampire or something." The woman reached for a tissue and you took it, wiping your tears and nose. The principal sighed, "Y/N, you did wonderful today. There are just a few things that you need to work on. You got the hard parts down pat." She smiled down at you reassuringly. You felt tears in your eyes again and you closed them, you were tired of feeling like a failure. "I don't know" you shrugged. "I know darling. I know what it's like to feel alone, but I also know that you will be a great shifter one day." You furrowed your brows, "How would you know that" you said in a saucy tone. "How would you know what it's like to shift, how would you know if I'm any good" you growled. The older woman ran her fingers through your hair, "Don't work yourself up again Y/N" she whispered. As much as the principal wanted to help you, she also wanted to keep her ability secret. She turned her gaze towards the fireplace as she contemplated her next move. When she looked back at you, she saw herself sitting with her. Young Larissa used to sit next to her teacher and cry about things, mostly her ability. Her teacher was always caring and comforting, and she was always truthful with her. She was her mentor, her friend, and in the end Larissa became an amazing shifter, not to mention the principal of Nevermore Academy. Larissa took a deep breath and took your hand in hers. "Darling, I can help you if you promise to keep a secret for me." You looked into her loving eyes as you wiped tears from yours, what secret would she want to share with you? You decided that you would keep her secret, if she wanted to tell you. "Okay, I promise I won't tell" you whispered.

The woman smiled as she got up from the couch and stood a few feet away. Suddenly she started shifting, and you watched as your own self was standing in front of you. Your jaw dropped and you sat frozen for a minute before you walked over to her and took her in. She was so talented, this was exactly how you looked. Although you haven't seen yourself in person, until now, you presumed that this was how you looked. You took her hand in yours, they matched perfectly. You ran your fingers through her hair, it was exactly yours. You stared into her eyes, and although they perfectly resembled yours, you could tell it was Larissa. "You're a shifter" you said, smiling ear to ear. She brought a hand up to cup your face and she smiled, shifting back into her normal form. "I am Y/N. But, I would really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone. I'm very secretive about it for multiple reasons, darling." You nodded your head, "I understand Principal Weems." "Good" she chirped. "If you keep this a secret, I will teach you. You have so much potential, you remind me of myself when I was younger." She leaned down so that she was eye level with you. "That's how I know you will be a great shifter one day." You wrapped your arms around the older woman and hugged her close. She chuckled at you as she returned the hug. You found comfort in the soft material of her dress and you quietly said "Thank you for trusting me and for helping me, Principal Weems." The principal smiled into your hair as she remembered why she became the principal in the first place. This is why she was so happy to be the Headmistress of Nevermore Academy.

#larissa weems #principal larissa weems #gwendoline christie #wednesday netflix #lesbian #gwendolineuniverse #principal weems #larissa weems fanfic #larissa x reader

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candyredappledragon · 10 months ago

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h-hi! the name is kieran. nice to meet you! ive been here for a bit and uhm.... sadly figuring out how to use this site! ( kind of afraid of interacting with others especially but im trying my best to not be easily scared ! ) i am not familiar with technology and or online things/words so please be patient with me. i know there are other kierans here too and honestly theyre pretty cool! ....d-dont tell them i said that. im not really a battler so if you are trying to look for one then im sorry to say that you will be disappointed but you can ask the others though. really sorry

..uh thank you for checking my blog— furret youre on my facEXSFDGCVHH

🍎 Please no genuine anon hate, nsfw, or anything really bad. ( You can be mean to Kieran! ) Pelipper mail is okay ( but malice is off for now ). Sapient Pokemon or the likes of interacting are fine too, Kieran is too much of a goofball to notice it. Please don't give him Pokemon the thought is appreciated but if you do they'll turn into stickers lol.

Please don't be weird. I'm serious. As well PLEASE be patient with me and not be pushy. I'm trying my best!

This Kieran is in AU as to what happens if Florian doesn't lie to him about Ogerpon and whatnot! Kieran still doesn't get Ogerpon and is fine with it ( kind of, as in this made him feel inferior to having friends and will always be chosen over by other people. ) His way of thinking is that maybe he should try to be nice and kind to others so that will help him get friends as he sees Florian do this the same to others. ( The only thing Kieran thinks he's not good at is having a funny personality. He is very awkward in person. ) Blueberry Academy was hard on him as he was almost practically as ignored and students tend to forget he is the champion because of his cowardly personality. Florian took over later as champion. Okay there.

(By the way this is a summary please don't hurt me. 💔)

Plus I will try to draw for asks but they won't be the best but surely will motivate me to draw! If there are no asks then I'll just draw daily things with Kieran so it's a win-win for me!

💥 This Kieran doesn't like to get involved with stuff so feel free to drag him into antics! He isn't the one to approach people either so if you are wondering why I don't start convos with other blogs with asks that's why. ( I'm shy too. ) He's a bit of a coward online and in person but he won't shy away trying to be friends with others.

🍎 Posts are tagged to make things easier! Feel free to block one of them to make your experience smooth!

Art related: art tag , art reply , daily Kieran art

Text related: text reply/reply text , text ask , text post , ooc post , reply reblog

Other: long post

Anything you want to be tagged? Please let me know! :)

"Can we use your art?" Feel free to use the art or whatever! Don't need to credit and I prefer not to be credited. You can edit it too! Idgaf just no bigotry. :,] "What do we call you and do you have pronouns?" Uhm, you can call me Eight or any other version of the number 8 itself. [ Ex: Ocho, Hachi, Acht, etc ]. No pronouns! Refer me to by name or just call me mod or some other third thing lol. "What art program do you use?" Clip Studio Paint! "Are you okay with collabs?" Of course! Please feel free to message me anytime. :] "What time do you post art/responses?" Uhm....... anytime to be honest? My sleep schedule is ABYSMAL. I am very much online unless I'm busy doing comp. "Are replies time sensitive when interacting with this blog?" Nope! Take your time with your replies. I am pretty chill and everyone is pretty busy with real life. Fair warning I'm a ditz. :( "Why did you make this blog?" To draw Kieran a thousand times over until I'm dead lol. ( Even if it isn't posted on this blog!) And world build my stupid au. :u I'm just currently on a small burnout on drawing. I'm sorry. :c

"Is this a sideblog?" Yeah, you are never going to find out my main!! It's very cringe ( it has different media art ). I will interact with my other sideblog with thoughts and reactions at times. [ if you are curious @/hahahasquib ]

"Do you like Kieran?" No. ( Yes. A normal amount. )

#rotomblr #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #pkmn rp

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mimisempai · 1 year ago

Text

Losing Control

Summary

When it comes to Aziraphale, Crowley recognizes that his reactions aren't very rational, but he's about to discover that it's not just anger that makes him... electric...

Notes

It's the same frustration as Crowley after a trying nightshift that makes me write this little nothing to cope.

On Ao3

Rating G - 1248 words

"That one again. What does he want with him now?"

Sitting in the coffee shop at Nina's, Crowley watched as Aziraphale, who was supposed to join him, was once again pestered by Mr Brown, Mr Boredom himself.

"Too close, step back or I'll make you!"

The demon was annoyed that even though Aziraphale had introduced him officially as his partner, the other man still indulged in this kind of familiarity.

He inhaled and exhaled to calm himself and looked down at his hand, a small lightning bolt jumping from his index finger to his thumb. Then he closed his fist and made it disappear.

"Control yourself. You can do this."

"You're not going to turn off the neighbourhood power again, are you?"

Crowley glared at Nina, well, as much as he could, and replied, "No, I'm not that angry. And I'm capable of controlling myself."

Nina picked up his empty cup and passed a cloth across the table, telling him, "I'm not sure you're being rational about your sweetheart. I know I'm not if..."

"Maggie's involved?"

Nina swiped at his arm with her cloth and replied, "Mind your own business."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and countered, "Yeah, yeah, Nina, like you mind your own business..."

"Touché. Then let me get on with it. What are you so angry about? Don't you trust him?"

Crowley immediately replied, "Of course I do!"

Then, seeing Aziraphale waving his hand and coming towards him, he stood up and said, "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to meet my sweetheart as you say."

Nina let him pass with a small mocking smile on her lips and as he walked through the door, having just joined Aziraphale, she called out to him, "And don't give us another power cut."

Crowley held back a rebuke, cursing her inwardly for Aziraphale didn't know what had happened when he had left the bookshop in a huff after their argument.

The angel looked at him in confusion as they walked towards the shop and asked, "What did she mean by that?"

Crowley muttered between his teeth, "Not here, Angel, I'll explain in the shop."

Moments later, as they closed the door behind them, Aziraphale immediately asked, "Tell me about it.

Crowley paced the shop for a few seconds and, after a sigh, explained, "When we argued about Gabriel and I stormed out, I was so angry that I first tried to calm myself down by doing the human thing, you know, just breathing and counting to ten before doing something stupid. But my anger and frustration were so strong that I couldn't do that and I let it out with a lightning bolt so powerful that it knocked out the electricity in the neighborhood and trapped Nina and Maggie in the coffee shop. Well, Angel, you know the whole story. Another demon quirk."

Aziraphale approached Crowley and, resting a hand on his arm to calm him, said softly, "It is not so much the quirk as the reason that concerns me, my dear. The fact that your anger was so intense. And that I'm responsible for it. Looking back, even though I don't think my decision would have been any different, I think I went about it the wrong way with you. Calling you for help to present you with a done deal instead of taking the time to discuss it wasn't very smart of me and..."

Crowley interrupted, "I didn't act very rationally either, because my last memory of Gabriel was the arrogant Archangel telling you to shut your stupid mouth and die. You and I were excellent at what we did best back then, not really talking."

He placed his hand on Aziraphale's, which was still on his arm, and grasped it, intertwining their fingers.

Then the angel frowned and asked, "But Crowley, why did Nina imply that you could have the neighborhood's power turned off again? Did you have any reason to be angry?"

Crowley started to let go of the angel's hand and walk away, but the angel wrapped his fingers around his hand and stopped him, saying softly, "Crowley, please tell me.

Crowley, avoiding the angel's gaze, replied, "About Mr. Brown..."

Aziraphale understood immediately and continued, "You were jealous. You know you have no reason to be, don't you?"

Crowley finally looked at him and replied, "I know Angel, I trust you."

Aziraphale replied, "You know I love you and I'd never betray you. So why..."

The angel seemed to realize something and said quietly, "Metatron... You're afraid I'll be influenced... again."

Crowley shook his head, "It's not that. I mean, not really. I know it in my head. I know you won't be swayed, but this visceral fear, I can't help but feel it. I trust you completely, Angel, but just letting this... Mr. Brown getting close to you... it was uncontrollable."

He raised his hand in front of the Angel's eyes and showed him the small lightning bolt that went from his finger to his thumb before it disappeared.

Aziraphale asked him quietly, "And is there anything we can do to keep you from causing a blackout? I don't know... go somewhere deserted and let it all out?"

Crowley laughed softly before saying, "That's nice of you, Angel, but I think there's something that would help me a lot and be a lot quicker and easier to do."

Aziraphale looked at him curiously and asked, "And what would that be?"

Crowley's smile turned mischievous as he replied, "A hug, or maybe even a kiss, from an angel."

The angel replied with the same smile on his lips, "I guess that could be considered, come here..." then he opened his arms and the demon immediately moved forward and wrapped his arms around him. Aziraphale held him close and after a few moments whispered in his ear, "What more can I do for you, my love?"

He heard a small crackle behind him and felt the demon freeze in his arms.

He asked, "Was that a lightning bolt?"

The demon nodded against him and Aziraphale murmured, "Because I called you my love?"

The same little crackle.

Aziraphale chuckled slightly and continued, "It seems it's not just anger that makes you react like that, my love..."

Crowley growled at him, "Angel, that's enough," and started to back away, but Aziraphale held him back, saying soothingly, "I'll stop, I promise."

The demon stopped struggling and after a few moments said, "It seems that anger isn't the only thing that triggers this phenomenon..."

Aziraphale asked gently, "Is it best if I stop calling you that, then?"

"No, please, Angel..."

The answer was whispered so softly that Aziraphale barely heard it. He said into the demon's ear, "Then I'll continue, my love."

Another small crackling sound.

Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh softly, then he pulled the demon aside a little to take its cupped face between his hands and said softly, "But I'd rather it be my words that cause this phenomenon than anger."

Then he brought his face close to the demon's and said softly, looking into his eyes, "My love..." before closing the distance between them and kissing him tenderly.

And although the demon's fingers crackled again, this time neither of them noticed.

However, a few days later, on Whickber Street, a strange phenomenon could be observed whenever Mr. Brown approached Aziraphale a little too closely.

The man would suddenly start jumping up and down as if he'd been hit by... an electric shock.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers #😈😇

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tutantmeenageneetleteetle · 2 days ago

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Hi I was wondering if I could request something.

How would the 2012 turtles feel about an autistic s/o who had situational mutism? I am someone who has both and I use cue cards or text my responses when I am unable to communicate them verbally. It would be interesting to hear how the four of them approach this circumstance.

Situational mutism

Thank you for your request! I hadn't heard of situational mutism before, so I hope that what I wrote is somewhat accurate to how it works! Feel free to correct me and educate me (can be in my DMs or requests if you prefer it to be more private!) And if I made a mistake, I'll change it!🌸

Leo

Thought you were mad at him at first, or didn't understand what he was saying

When you explained (by typing it out), he just let out an "Oooh... okay"

He might struggle a bit, the first time it happens

When you are able to communicate verbally again, he will try to make a plan with you (here comes the plan-guy again, who needs a plan for everything...)

He will ask you what you need, what he can do to help, what you don't like, how it works, etc.

Prefers if you communicate through text to speech, but if you prefer something else, that's totally okay too

He just wants to make sure you're comfortable

He will make sure everyone waits for you to type out what you have to say to make sure you're not talked over or ignored

He will teach you some ninja hand signs as well, for emergency communication

Raph

Would be really confused and frustrated at first

He would think you're purposefully not replying to him and it would tick him off

After you explained (by typing it out), he would feel really guilty about getting angry with you

You'd get one of them rare apologies

After that, he would stick up for you and get angry for you if people weren't considerate enough or impatient in their communication with you

"Situational mutism is hard, you asshole! Be considerate, or I'll beat a little respect into you!"

Violence may not be the answer you were hoping for, but it is an answer nonetheless

The dumbass will sometimes not notice or forget that you have situational mutism, though.

In his own words, feel free to hit him on the head and make him pay attention/remember

Döner kebab

He would be quick to pick up on the fact that it's not 'just you being quiet'

Would ask you about different options in his mind that could possibly be related to you being silent

"Don't you want to talk or can't you talk? You can't? Okay. Does it give you anxiety to talk? Sometimes, okay... You also have autism, right? Yes? Situational mutism? Yes? Okay, that makes sense, then."

He will do his research

Will make you a smart watch that is designed for non-verbal communication, where you have different keywords, phrases, and letters to communicate

One of the phrases will be "Donnie is the best boyfriend ever!"

Please don't give him too much space to talk, though (I'm saying this for your own good). Any silence he can find, he will yap about some science related stuff

Mikey

He would be too busy yapping to notice at first

He would just start asking you endless questions and you could not keep up with answering them, since it takes longer to even answer with text or cuecards.

When you did manage to explain, he'd just react with "wooow... alright. Dope." While he does fingerguns. (6/10, kind of funny response, but could've been more considerate, since it's a struggle sometimes)

Out of all of them, he will pick up the communication the easiest

Cuecards will work best on him

He will spend the afternoon making them with you

He thinks it's really fun to use cuecards to communicate together, and he will use them to you too

Will always have a set of cards on hand for you (or him!)

One of the cards will have an arrow pointing up with the word "kiss here" written on it

#tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt donnie #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt mikey #tmnt raphael #tmnt headcanons #tmnt leo #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey 2012 #tmnt raph #tmnt raph 2012 #tmnt donnie 2012 #tmnt donnatello #situational mutism

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captn-trex · 3 months ago

Text

technical devotion, part four: call to action

content warnings: none :)

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

Kan could hear somebody rapping on the door from inside her headphones.

“One moment” She called, stepping through the ever-growing mess that was her office.

“Oh hey Rex, what can I do for you?” Kan smiled up at the Captain.

“Hey Kan” He smiled, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, “I was just thinking about this upcoming mission, Senator Organa said you have you have some field experience, is that right?”

“Oh, well yes, I do. I have medic training as well” She replied, slightly cautious.

“Hm” Rex stroked his chin in thought, “We might need you to step into the field for this one. It would be just you and Echo, does that sound like something you could be up for?”

“Yeah, of course Captain, whatever you need”

“Okay” He smiled, “Well there's actually another mission that could possibly use your help with, so we'll see what Echo thinks and plan from there”

Kan nodded and followed him as he returned to the command centre, finding Echo already in there, leaning over the central holotable. He stood up straight as he saw Kan enter behind Rex, and she smiled at him as she always did. Echo made no move to return the warm gesture, instead his face painted with confusion.

“Echo, I’m thinking of sending Kan with you on this one” Rex spoke up.

“Is that really necessary?” Echo retorted, no hostility in his words though Kan certainly saw it that way, trying hard to hide her hurt.

“She could really streamline the whole process, and besides, she may be able to think of another way that we haven’t considered” Rex replied, a little short with his brother as he noted his unnecessary angst towards the Mirialan. Kan was pleased to see that at least Rex had faith in her. She enjoyed his company and found him to be an incredibly effective leader, a commanding presence that still felt kind.

Echo just looked at Kan, his regular blank stare piercing her. Though from his perspective, his mind was running wild. He was eternally frustrated at himself for the way he found himself acting around Kan, drawn to her but keeping his walls up. Echo was well aware that she was displeased with him, particularly now as he could see the dejected look on her face. He knew she liked to be useful in any way she could, even at the expense of herself.

“If you dont think it's going to work I'll send her off to Corellia with Howzer, he could really do with-”

“No” Echo said quickly, “It's fine, you're right, she would be useful”

Kan felt incredibly awkward, feeling as if she had interrupted a domestic of some sort, and because they were both speaking as if she wasn't stood right there.

“So…” She stepped forwards tentatively, “What’s the mission?

Rex brought up the map, “This is Haidoral Prime, mid-rim, there’s an imperial facility here that we believe is transmitting something to the planet that you found out about, where they’re sending clones”

Kan stepped up to the table beside Rex, “And what are our orders?”

Echo was slightly taken aback by the shift in her presence. She suddenly became strikingly military in her disposition, a seriousness that felt strange to see on her features. Echo once again felt drawn to her, finding this other side of her personality equally as alluring.

“I originally intended on Echo going in and just stopping the transmission, trying to find out whatever it was they were transmitting, but now I'm thinking that maybe…” Rex paused, “Is there anyway you could reroute the transmission?”

Kan's eyes flicked about the map projected above the holotable, her teeth subltely gnawing at her bottom lip as she seemed to be deep in thought.

“Permission to speak freely sir?”

“Yeah Kan of course” Rex almost chuckled at her professionalism.

“I believe a different approach would serve us better. I could easily reroute the transmission, but the Empire would surely catch on soon enough. Instead… It would take longer but… I could possibly find a way to duplicate the transmission. That way, the Empire would still be receiving the transmission, but so would we. I would of course make sure that the transmission to this base was undetectable and untraceable, create a path that made no sense and seemed like a mistake if discovered, but that still leaves the issue of the Empire receiving the information” Kan chewed on her lip once more, “Perhaps there is a way to corrupt the signal on their transmission, something that would wear it down over time, so that they don't suspect any foul play”

“You could do that?” Rex asked, glad he asked Kan to join this mission.

“Certainly, though… it would take me quite a bit of time, and I don't know what kind of tech they're working with. Do you know anything about the number of troopers they might have in there?”

“No, we have no idea” Rex sighed locking his hands behind his head.

“In that case…” Kan started, looking to Rex for conformation that she still had the floor, and he nodded, “I see there being two options, one of which is probably the obvious answer, but that's up to you Captain. First is, Echo goes ahead with the original plan by himself” She spoke confidently and looked at Echo for the first time in the exchange, noting his slightly awestruck look.

“The second is that we go in more than once. The first time purely to get an idea of the tech they're using and how I can replicate the signal. Then I'll need to go away and have some time to figure everything out, then the second time would be to actually input the changes” Kan said, then her confidence retreated a little, “I understand how that is a lot more effort and it may just be more worth it to disable it and have done”

Rex sighed deeply, “It would be a lot harder but… You're right, that could really give us an edge”. He paused for another moment, running over everything Kan had said in his mind, “Alright, I say we go for it. Echo?” He looked to his brother.

Echo was still looking at Kan, but his eyes flicked to his brother as he adressed him, “What?”

“What do you think?” Rex asked.

“About what?”

Rex gave him a confused look, “About going ahead with Kan's plan”

“Right, um” Echo looked to Kan and then back to Rex, “Yeah, it sounds like a good idea, I think we should go for it”

“Okay” Rex still eyed Echo suspciously, “It's going to take a little more planning then. Kan, I suggest you go and pack your tools now”

“On it” She nodded and quickly exited the room.

Rex turned to Echo, “What's the matter with you?”

“Nothing” Echo said, a hint of a sigh seeping through.

Rex just watched him for a moment, almost immediately coming to the right conclusion for his actions and sighing deeply. “For kriff sake Echo” He said with a slightly disbelieving laugh, “Look, just keep it professional for this mission okay?”

“What? I didn-”

Rex put up a hand to interrupt him, “I'm not interested in discussing this right now. Go and see if she can still shoot and I'll draw up this plan”

Echo ground his jaw in quiet defiance of what Rex was claiming without using the words, and Rex watched him amusedly as he left the room with a slump in his shoulders.

Kan stepped out onto the the tarmac, her bag slung across her chest and resting on her hip. She looked around for Echo, who had requested that she meet him for something before they left for their mission.

The prospect of going on a mission with Echo was exciting to Kan for a number of reasons. For one, going into the field in itself was something that she had missed greatly, and she felt entirely more useful for being so involved in foiling the Empire. She was also determined to break through whatever wall Echo continuously put up with her, and there was perhaps no better time than a mission where they were alone. She hoped that she could prove her usefulness and gain his trust in completing this mission efficiently and successfully.

Kan heard her name called and snapped her head to the left, where she saw Echo standing with a blaster at his side.

“I’m going to teach you how to use a blaster” Echo said as Kan approached him, and she realised that there were three targets set up a short distance from them.

Kan came to a stop in front of him and tilted her head to the side with a small laugh, “I know how to shoot, Echo”

“You do?” He replied, eyebrows raising slightly. He was sure that Rex had said she couldn't, but maybe he had been a little distracted at the time.

“Mhm” Kan said, clasping her hands behind her back, a small bounce in her toes.

Echo looked over her amused expression and bit back his own smirk, feeling almost exhilarated under her undivided attention. He held out the blaster in his hand, letting it hang on his first finger.

“Show me what you're made of then” He challenged, and Kan smirked as she took the blaster from him.

Kan stepped up to the mark, and took a deep breath, centering herself as she looked at the targets that had been set up. Echo watched closely, monitoring her form. She then swiftly brought up the blaster and fired off three rounds, hitting each mark perfectly. Echo raised his eyebrows, impressed and noting technique almost indistinguishable from his own.

“Wow, I'm honestly impressed I hit all of them. It’s been a while” Kan chuckled, lowering the blaster to her side.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Echo asked.

“Oh, um, you know… here and there” Kan said a little awkwardly.

Echo didn't take Kan as someone who kept secrets, usually seeming so open and happy to talk, but he didn't pry. If she didn't want to tell him then that was her business, not that the thought didn't gnaw at him anyway.

“Your form is good, exactly how they taught us in the GAR” He noted, seeing her stiffen minutely.

“Heh, yeah… cool” Kan said, handing Echo's blaster back to him and adjusting her bag across her chest a little. Echo watched her tense movements for a moment more, but quickly moved on.

“We can get going soon. I thought that was going to take longer to be honest” Echo said, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Wow. What did I do to make you have so little faith in me?” Kan pouted in jest, then quickly matched his subtle smirk.

Echo just shrugged and holstered his blaster, moving away towards the ship they would be taking on the mission. Kan followed after him, and they climbed the ramp up into the ship. It was a modest size; two seats in the cockpit and a moderate hull, with a small refresher and bunk through two doors at the back.

“This is your ship?” Kan asked, turning to look at Echo as he sat down in the pilot's seat.

“More or less. I don't think anyone else uses it” He replied, powering up the ship.

“It's nice” Kan muttered, more to herself than anything.

The journey to Haidoral Prime was a few standard hours underway, and Echo had said all but 5 words to Kan the entire time. She opted to sit on the counter of the kitchenette in the hull, her fingers drumming against the surface as she chewed on her lip, thinking of something to say.

Kan had always got along with people quite easily. She was friendly and liked to form connections, however shallow, with everyone she came across. Echo's determination to meet her friendliness with some form of quiet animosity was starting to wear her down a little bit, and at this point, she just wanted to come right out and say how she felt about it.

“Echo?” Kan said, her voice no more timid than usual, despite the unfamiliar flurry of anxiety in her gut. Echo turned to look at her and saw her fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “Can we talk?”

“What's up?” He turned his seat to face her, leaning forward onto his knee.

“I'm just wondering…” Kan chose her words carefully, “It feels like you don't really enjoy my company very much and… Well, is there a way that I can make you more comfortable around me?”

Echo immediately frowned. “That's not true, I-” He started but the words got stuck in his throat.

“You don't have to like me I suppose, but if it's something I've done or something I'm doing then I'd like to know” Kan said assuredly.

“I-” Echo said, swallowing and forming his sentence before he spoke, “I do like you, and I enjoy your company. I'm sorry if it seems otherwise”

Kan’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Oh” She said simply, “Could've fooled me”

Echo let out a small laugh, suddenly feeling a tad insecure about himself, “Yeah, I guess I'm not as outgoing as some of the others”

“That's okay” Kan smiled, jumping down from the counter and walking up to the cockpit. She looked around all of the controls and couldn't stop herself from grinning.

“Who did all the upgrades in here?”

Echo was immediately bashful under the scrutiny of a proper technician, “Uh, I did"

“Right” Kan nodded.

Echo watched nervously as she took in his adjustments, waiting for her to say anything more, but she didn't.

“Is that a good ‘right’ or a bad one?” He asked, an amused smile being sent in his direction.

“Mostly good, I wouldn't have done the phaser like that, but if it works it works” She said, pointing behind Echo.

He turned and looked at the piece, then back up to Kan who was now leaning on the back of his chair, her face startlingly close to his.

“How would you have done it?” He asked, holding her eye contact despite feeling his palms become clammy as he did.

“You've got some wires crossed” Kan pointed, and he followed her finger as she somehow drew even closer towards him. “It's nothing that would cause problems of course, but if you're going to cross wires there are ways that would make it run more efficiently. I can do it for you after this mission if you like?” She suggested, looking down to Echo once more.

As he found her eyes again, their faces mere inches apart, he felt as if his throat had dried up completely, leaving him unable to speak. Instead, he nodded slowly, and his breathing became shallow as he noticed the small flecks of gold in her otherwise deep green eyes. Kan could see Echo's eyebrows had relented from the small frown they always held, his eyes brighter than she'd seen before. The sight made her heart stutter, and she realised how truly close she was to him when she felt his breath fan over her face.

Kan moved away with a shy smile, muttering an apology and completely unaware of the effect she had just had on Echo. The moment was mere seconds, but to Echo, it had felt like minutes, hours even, and he blinked a few times as Kan began talking about something, not fully able to register her words.

#trex writings #arc trooper echo #bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb echo #the bad batch #echo x oc #clone force 99 #501st battalion #501st legion #clones #echo my beloved #divider by cafekitsune

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ryuzakemo128 · 1 month ago

Text

Behold A Pale Horse Part 2

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Female Reader/ you

Content Warnings: Kyle Garrick is a rich wealthy man, female reader is poor, Kyle calls female reader: “Love”, “Darling”, “dearest”, and “sweetheart” in a casual and affectionate way, female reader's mental illnesses, mention of past trauma, Kyle's protectiveness, fluffy romance, emotional support, slow burn, angst, drama, action, military themes, emotional turmoil. Mention of blackjack and poker.

Words: 5429

Masterlist

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Credit for Template of Dividers: @cafekitsune

Summary: “I have a fucken feelin she's gonna crawl back like a fucken leech.” you were talking about your mother. “If you think my father was bad. She is just as bad.”

You knew he would die sometime, you just thought he would be alive for a long time and the age of seventy felt too soon. Even though he lived a long time, that he lived for quite a while. Ghost looked at you as you paced around the room as you heard the news.

Your heart felt heavy as you remembered the times you had together, the jokes, the missions, the fear. You had felt safe with him, despite his flaws and his rough edges. He had been a beacon of light in your otherwise chaotic world.

“I have a fucken feelin she's gonna crawl back like a fucken leech.” you were talking about your mother. “If you think my father was bad. She is just as bad.”

Ghost was there when you broke your hand punching a wall when you were on the phone with your mother. He heard the words “Stupid bitch.” followed by a loud smack and your pained scream.

He came running and found you cradling your hand, tears in your eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.” you murmured into the phone before hanging up and collapsing onto the floor.

John Price must have heard you punch the wall, the concrete wall, the same wall he didn't think he needed to tell you not to punch because he thought you being a Colonel would know better. You could almost feel his disappointment in you as he walked into the room.

“Don't say it. I'm a fucken idiot. I know.” you muttered with your eyes firmly shut sitting on the floor.

John Price's footsteps were heavy as he approached you, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. “It's alright, Colonel,” he said in a firm but gentle tone, crouching beside you. “But maybe next time, we can find a better outlet for your anger.”

“Trust me. I don't plan on fightin' more walls.” you snorted.

Ghost remained silent, his eyes full of understanding, and he knew exactly what you needed in moments like this.

He didn't ask questions or try to give you false comforts; instead, he sat beside you, his hand landing gently on your back.

The warmth of his touch radiated through your uniform, offering a small semblance of solace in the coldness of your grief.

“You did a bang-up job on that hand.” Price remarked looking at your hand.

You laughed humourlessly. “Thanks. I'll be sure to bill you for the hospital visit.”

Price sighed, his expression softening. “Look, I know this isn't the time, but we have a mission briefing in an hour. You should get that looked at and try to pull yourself together for it, yeah?”

“I am well aware of that briefing. I'll be fine by then. I have at least five different emails reminding me of it from five different people.”

Price nodded, looking at the both of you before he stood. “Take all the time you need. I'll get the medical team to check it out for you, Colonel.”

“Finger crossed its either sprained or bruised.” you replied.

Ghost nodded, his thumb rubbing circles on your back. You felt his gaze on you, knowing he was assessing how much of this was an act and how much was real.

You took a deep breath and looked up at him, your eyes a little red from unshed tears. “I need to get going. We can deal with this after the briefing, okay?”

The nurses rushed around like a bunch of hens with their heads cut off. Normally you would be one of them. But you punched the wall, cried and now you felt fine somehow?

You let out a sigh and stood up, flexing your hand. It hurt, but you weren't going to let that stop you.

You had a mission to focus on. You looked over at Ghost, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a mix of worry and something else.

You couldn't quite place it, but you knew it was there.

“Thanks, Ghost,” you said, your voice a bit shakier than you would have liked. “I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Anything for you, darlin,” he said, his British accent wrapping around the words like a warm blanket.

You headed to the medical bay, Ghost following closely behind. The medics took one look at your hand and winced. “Looks like you've had quite the run-in with the wall,” one of them quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Picked a fight with the wall and lost at the same time.” you snorted.

The medic took your hand gently in his and began examining it, his brow furrowing with concentration. “Well, it's definitely not broken, but it's a bad sprain. We'll need to get you into a cast for a few weeks. It'll heal quicker that way.”

“So, I did good job hittin it?” you guessed.

Ghost chuckled lightly, his eyes still full of concern. “Could say that, Colonel.”

“Well. What I recommend you doing is, plenty of rest, no more punching walls, mirrors, or people for that matter.” the medic said, wrapping your hand in a cast.

“Damn. There goes my bare-knuckle boxing match this afternoon.” you remarked dryly.

Ghost's smile grew a bit wider at that. “Maybe stick to paperwork for a bit, yeah?”

“I don’t think I would be able to fight someone with only one hand just yet. I think it would the safest bet for now.” You forced a chuckle, trying to ease the tension in the room. The medic finished wrapping your hand in the cast, his hands deft and sure.

As he stepped back, you studied the stark white cast with a sigh. It was a stark reminder of your outburst, of your loss, of the tumultuous relationship you had with your mother. But you had a mission to focus on, a team that needed you.

“Alright, Colonel, let's get you to the briefing. We're already pushin' it close to time.” Ghost's voice brought you back to the present, his hand landing on your shoulder in a firm but comforting grip.

“Joys of a tight schedule. It's feckin tighter than a nun's puckered arsehole.” you muttered as you walked to the mission briefing.

Ghost couldn't help but laugh at that. “Never knew nuns had tight arseholes, Colonel.”

“Considering they've given themselves to God. I would like to assume they would. Otherwise, I might be wrong. Though I don't like to think of them in that way either.” you replied.

Ghost chuckled, shaking his head. “You always know how to lighten the mood, don't you?”

“As someone who has parents that were baptized catholic and should have been raised catholic. My sense of humour is still intact.” you answered.

The rest of the mission didn’t have another hitch. The factors of a head start of your leave were dosed in the promise of going to a military function.

You assured them you would attend repeatedly. As they would usually do. As you always manage to sound sarcastic even when you try to be genuine in tone.

You weren’t sure why they always managed to think of that first than to take you seriously. They weren’t used to your kind of humour.

Though you can’t say the same thing when it comes to Ghost. He picked it up fine.

But you never asked why that was. It wasn’t something you didn’t want to intrude on. As you thought, ‘Must be personal. I won’t go there.’

Ghost looked at you when you never asked personal questions, and for a moment, his gaze flickered with something unreadable. Then it was gone, replaced with the usual mischievous twinkle. “You're one of a kind, Colonel,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“Talk when you want to. I won't force something. I know the effects of forcing someone to do something you don't want to do. So, if you need to talk about that let me know and you'll be free to do so.” you added as you both walked into the briefing room, the weight of the cast on your hand a constant reminder of the fragility of your mental state. “Just don't pick fights with walls.”

A mission later, a military function later and now in the front of the mirror inside your mirror in your hotel room. You were now going to attend a funeral for your father.

The cast still on your hand and the bruises slowly fading. The cast now taken off when your doctor took a look at your sprained hand. Muttering a few things under his breath, but mostly about how lucky you were and how much more it could've been.

The bruises had faded into a light purple, but you knew they'd be there still.

You told your doctor that you were on the phone with your mother when it happened during your deployment. Adding in that it was when you found out your father had died on the phone, and she had a few colourful words for you.

He nodded solemnly, understanding your pain. “Take as much time as you need to heal,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of experience with soldiers like you.

As soon as you left the doctor’s appointment, Kyle decided to take you to lunch, “Are you sure you're fine with eating there?”

You nodded, “I've been craving that burger for weeks. Let's go for it.”

The diner was a local favourite, filled with the comforting aroma of grease and the buzz of chatter. You picked at your food, the weight of the impending funeral heavy on your mind.

Kyle noticed your distraction, his gaze lingering on you with concern. He reached across the table, his thumb brushing the back of your hand gently. “You okay, darling?”

“I am dreading it. I don't think I could speak to her without another this incident occurring.” you answered holding up your hand still bruised and lightly wrapped with a bandage.

Kyle nodded solemnly, his eyes never leaving yours, “I'll be there with you every step of the way. If she tries anything, I'll handle it.”

“Fingers crossed she won't. She's already blaming me for his death, never mind the fact that his health was never that great to start with by the time I was in the picture.” you mumble into your food.

“I do have a feeling they'll have it in the early morning starting at an obnoxious starting time too. Think 5am start kind of thing. Horrendous stuff. Early morning birds the lot of them.”

Kyle was an early riser, so the mention of a 5 AM funeral didn't faze him. Though you were not. You preferred a 7am start at the earliest. He found out when he stayed over once, waking up to a grumbling mess because of his 5 AM wake-up call. But, for you, he’d be there at 4 AM if that's what it took. Something you loved more than any expensive meal he ever bought you.

The first time this happened, you were so happy you cried, he reacted so fast you didn't have a chance to even get a word in before he had you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down. But now, it was just routine. You felt the tension in the air thicken as you both got ready for the funeral.

The white button up dress shirt, the black asymmetrical four pocketed vest and black slacks. Combined with the crimson red tie. Your face completely covered with a high-tech space grey coloured shaped skull mask.

Your white shirt rolled up to your elbows and wearing black leather gloves. The gold tree leaf collar pin on the shirt's neckline, which is a symbol of your rank of colonel. Your hair tied into a mermaid's braid.

Your dad's funeral was coming up, you had to be there, much to your own dismay and hope you would skip the funeral to go there after your family left the century.

You took a deep breath as you picked up your lucky belt, the one your dad had beaten you with and somehow kept you alive. Ironic how it was used on your flesh, but it saved your life multiple times.

This was the reality of it now, your father is dead, long dead, this was supposed to be a small funeral. But what quantified as ‘small’ didn’t exactly seem that with how many children your parents brought into the world.

Along with most of your nieces and nephews in tow with your older brothers. One time you were happy with being the only girl in the entirety of eight children they decided to have.

Now you had to become the ‘strong one’ inside of a capitalistic scummy world that valued money over moral ethics.

The lives moving the company engine along over the work life balance you deserved it was non-existent.

You were good at punching your problems away in the past. Yet it never reflected it now.

If your mother decided to show up after abandoning you and your siblings, you would be sure to leave long before she made the age-old excuse of ‘late-night work.’

When her affair took precedence over their livelihoods. You still remember telling her she was disowned and disbarred from everything your life entailed.

The thought of seeing her at the funeral sent a shiver down your spine. The same spine that your father had broken. But that’s the thing about family, they come with baggage.

The amount of baggage often changed with how much money they had. And your family had enough to start their own airline. The only flight they cared about was the one taking them away from their problems.

You felt the weight of the mask on your face, a stark reminder of the double life you led. The one where you were a daughter, sister, and now, a colonel in a world that didn’t care about your past.

It was the same world that had crushed your spirit into dust, only to build you back up into this unshakable force. The mask wasn’t just for the mission; it was for the facade you had to wear at the funeral.

The tense atmosphere inside of the funeral home, let alone the old cottage inside the isles of Yorkshire.

The company skyscraper in London, the cotton and wool farm in Yorkshire, the vacation home inside of Alaska, along with other various things your father never told you about.

Not that it mattered now.

The old man was indeed dead now.

Deceased.

Entering Rigor Mortis.

Sleeping forever.

Dead.

A bonfire, a pyre, a wooden stake, and everything they would burn a witch during the era of the witch trials. What better way to give a funeral for your father?

The flames crackling and popping in the dark of the night. The heat licking at your skin as you stood in front of everyone you had to pretend to care about.

Your heart was racing but not because of fear or nerves, it was because of the rage that burned inside of you like the very fire in front of you.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, the flames reflecting off your mask, turning your eyes into a fiery amber.

You were getting ready for your solo date with yourself after the funeral. You weren’t going to do much. Honestly. People assumed you were kinkier than you felt like you were.

What do you mean wearing a garter panty makes you kinky? You saw them on sale, and you bought them because you felt pretty.

Why do you think like that? It is just a spiked collar with a bell. I got it years ago.

Why do you like wearing fishnet stockings to the office? Because they're comfortable, that's why.

What do you mean you’re single? Aren’t you like thirty now? Yeah. But no one wants to date me. So? Who cares?

How are you going to find someone if you wear that shit? Well, that sounds like a you problem not a me problem to have. Good luck unpacking that bullshit.

When are you going to give me grandchildren? When you show up for your children and start being an actual mother.

Why do you always have to wear black? It's my favourite colour. Besides, it matches everything.

But it’s for the funeral. You're supposed to wear something more... respectful.

You would be more respectful. My father is better man dead than he was ever alive thank you very much.

Why haven’t you forgiven your mother? Well, she’s to blame for a lot of things happening to me and I will never forgive her for it.

It wasn’t your mother’s fault your father decided to take it out on you for her leaving you and your siblings with him. Why can’t you see how you’re hurting her? She made a choice to make more than one affair with her lovers. She knew what would happen. I don’t care what she wants anymore.

Why do you have so many piercings and tattoos? Because it’s my body, and I can do what I want with it.

Why are you so defensive? Because my entire life I’ve had to fight to be seen and heard. To prove that I’m more than just the daughter of a man who didn’t deserve the title of father.

Why can’t you concentrate? I have a condition that makes focusing on one thing at a time an endless struggle.

But you seem so together. How can you have a mental illness? Because mental illness doesn’t have a face, darling. It’s not something you can spot from a mile away. It’s the hidden battles we fight daily, behind the smiles and the nods.

ADHD is not a thing, my son isn’t like this. Why are you lying? Because it’s a part of who I am, and I’m not going to hide it anymore, Mom. You should have listened when your husband beat me into ‘listening’ to him.

If you didn't say anything about it your father would have loved you more, been around you more and wouldn’t have hurt you. If you behaved like we wanted. None of this would have happened. Are you sure that is the rabbit hole you want to walk down?

You’ve had enough. You turn around and walk out of the room, not bothering to hear the rest of her guilt trips.

You don't need to be around that kind of negativity today, not when you’re trying to breathe without feeling like you’re choking on your own tears.

The door slams shut behind you, echoing through the quiet house. It’s a relief to be alone, even if it’s just for a moment. You lean against the wall, taking deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

You've heard it all before, but somehow, it still stings. You’ve spent years building up a tough exterior, but the words of your mother still manage to find their way in, digging at the tender spots you've tried so hard to protect.

But today is not the day to let her win. You have a date with yourself, and you're going to enjoy it. You straighten up, smoothing down your black dress.

It’s not what everyone else expects you to wear, but it’s what you feel like wearing, and that’s all that matters. You look at the time, realizing you're already running late. The theatre won't wait for you, even if you wish the world would.

“It was stupid to think she would admit it was also partially her fault.” You muttered to your co-worker at the bar.

You had just told him about your mother’s accusations and his eyes widened, his hand froze mid-air with a bottle of whiskey. “Your father’s funeral, right? That’s why you called in sick for work?”

“Yeah. I don’t know whether it was the right thing now. I should have worked today instead of attending.” You answered.

“Your mother is a complete and total bitch. You know that, right?” He said, his voice gruff but concerned. He had seen you at your worst, and he knew the history between you two.

“Yeah. Oddly enough she only got worse after he died.” you were sipping your white Russian cocktail.

He nodded, placing the bottle back on the shelf. “Well, she can't ruin your day anymore. What's your plan now, love?”

“See a movie, have dinner and take frozen yoghurt home to devour completely.” you answered.

“A perfect plan, if I say so myself.” he winked and slid the drink to you.

“Good food is something I will always look forward to.” you chuckle with excitement. Looking forward to having a good meal for dinner tonight.

You didn’t know what it would be from the enormous amount of choices around you. But you knew. You knew there is going to be something you will enjoy.

Kyle walked into the theatre once you were in the seat you paid for. Along with nachos with extra cheese, two large diet cokes, and a box of chocolates.

He looked at the feast you bought for yourself to have with the movie. “It's not a date if you don't eat your weight in junk food.” You said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled and set the snacks down, sliding into the seat next to you. “How was it?” He asked, his voice gentle, and eyes concerned.

“Worse than a horror movie somehow. My mother is somehow far worse than a dead man now.” you answered.

Kyle’s expression tightened. He had heard enough about your mother to understand her cruel nature, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing you in pain.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “You know you don’t have to take that shit, right? You’re more than what she says you are.” His voice was firm and comforting.

“I went to the bar hours before. I told Larry, Lawrence, this, he agrees that she's a stone-cold bitch. This is also the same man who dates older women by the way.” you replied.

Kyle’s smile was small but knowing. “And yet he’s the voice of reason today?”

“Yeah. After a White Russian cocktail and two 'holy water' cocktails. He gave me a shot of cinnamon whiskey which he mixed with vodka and said it’s for the soul. I guess that’s one way to get over the shit of a family I have.” You said, a small laugh escaping your lips. It was a sad laugh, but it was something.

Kyle nodded, his grip around you tightening for a brief moment. “You’ve got me. That’s all that matters right now. Let’s enjoy the movie, okay?”

“The 'hole water' cocktails were quite nice by the way.” you replied.

He kissed the top of your head. “Good to know. I’ll have to try one next time I’m there.”

You were more than a little content with him there. Even if you never did things together, all the time, it was enough to know he was by your side. Your eating habits were weird to be sure, but you warned him many times before hand, and he never made you feel bad for it.

Your mac and cheese was the perfect temperature, just a hint of crunch on the top from the oven, and the nachos were heavenly with the warm, gooey cheese. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were until the food hit the table. You dug in with enthusiasm, the salty, cheesy flavours mingling with the sweetness of your chocolates. The comfort of the familiar tastes washed over you like a warm blanket, a stark contrast to the coldness of your mother’s words earlier.

The movie began, and you tried to lose yourself in the action-packed scenes, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation with your mother. You could feel Kyle’s eyes on you, his concern palpable. He reached over and took your hand, giving it a squeeze. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you. It reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there was someone who cared about you, who saw you for more than the sum of your past.

The film was a blockbuster hit, full of explosions and car chases that had your heart racing. You couldn’t help but think how surreal it was to be here with Kyle, a man who lived a life so different from your own. A man who, despite his wealth and status, saw the real you and didn’t flinch at your imperfections. It was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever.

As the movie progressed, you found yourself leaning into Kyle’s side, your shoulders brushing against his firm, muscular frame. His thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand, the touch grounding and soothing. You watched the screen, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the warmth and comfort of his presence.

As you slept in the hotel room with your earbuds in to block out the background noises of the city, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the ticking of the analog clock in the hotel room. You were asleep faster than you would have been after drinking a warm glass of milk doused in melatonin.

You would be back inside your cottage inside of Yorkshire soon. It may take a while. It will come to you soon. You think to yourself. A small temporary mantra to ease yourself into a heavy slumber. Easing yourself into a comfortable routine you know more about than London and its streets.

The routine was and remains to be quite boring to those who knew or didn’t know you. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered until you had at least eight to nine hours of sleep inside you. A golden rule you always had to maintain some assemblance of peace inside your soul. Not that you were ever religious about the ‘soul’ or ever argued what made a ‘soul’ a ‘soul.’

The satin eye mask you wore didn't just shield your eyes from light, it served as a symbolic barrier between you and the tumultuous world outside. The silk pillow cover over the body pillow you kept to your chest to help you sleep alone at night. A small comfort among the many you kept to yourself.

The satin pajamas you wore to bed were handmade by your late grandmother, a soft and warm embrace that brought a semblance of comfort to the cold, sterile hotel room. The warmth of the outdoor socks you used a bed socks to keep warm. Your mind began to drift as the darkness of the room wrapped around you like a cocoon.

As you slept deep inside the cocoon of heavy blankets.

Back deep inside the penthouse of London’s most expensive, luxurious buildings owned by Kyle's father. A building so high, it seemed like it could kiss the stars, if only it tried hard enough. Though if his father was in fact allowed to have it kiss the stars. It would be done with no questions asked, and no doubt with the finest gold-plated cranes money could buy.

Soap hadn't been introduced to you just yet, but his reputation preceded him. Kyle had mentioned him in passing, a fellow SAS operative with a sharp wit and a penchant for trouble. You'd seen his face in a few photos around Kyle's flat, a grinning man with piercing blue eyes and a mop of hair styled in a mohawk. Not too outrageous as the ones you had seen growing up.

“My older brother has one still. Though his has width of a small bird. Dyed it pink and it hasn't been any other colour since.” you told him.

Kyle chuckled at your words, his eyes not leaving yours. He leaned closer, his breath brushing your cheek. “I bet he pulls it off better than anyone else.”

“Considering he pulls off a cocktail dress. I doubt there is something he couldn't.” You quipped back with a smirk, feeling his breath on your face. The conversation had been light, a welcome reprieve from the shadowy world Kyle was entangled in.

Now, as you were in the hotel room, Kyle talking to Soap in person, “Soap, I don’t know if Ghost has told you this. But I don’t think she needs a lesson in anything MacTavish.”

Soap’s smirk didn’t waver, didn’t budge, didn’t move from his face. “Oh, I’ve heard plenty about her. But I’d like to see her skills for myself, Gaz. It’s not every day you get to spar with someone who’s seen more action than a Hollywood blockbuster.”

“Or you could settle for Blackjack and watch her take his money instead?” Ghost said his voice over the phone.

“Cheeky bugger,” Soap said, his smile evident in his voice. “But, I’m more interested in the action than the gambling. Besides, I can handle myself around a poker table.”

“Poker and Blackjack are different.” Ghost reminded him. “Blackjack is all about maths, and you know how good she is with numbers.”

The phone line crackled with Soap’s laughter. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave the gambling to her and the brains. But I’m still looking forward to seeing her in action, Gaz. It’ll be like watching a ballet of bullets and brawn.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you’re eager to watch her dance with danger, Soap. Just remember she’s not just any operative.”

“Understood, Gaz. I’ll play nice.” Soap’s tone was teasing, but there was a hint of respect beneath it.

You were known to play like a loan shark when it came to blackjack. Ruthless, precise, and cold. It was your way of coping with the world. The numbers never lied to you, never hurt you, and never disappointed you. It was a game that made sense to you in a world that rarely did. The thought of playing poker with Kyle's friend made your stomach twirl, but in a way that was more excitement than dread.

“You better. Otherwise, any poker game you play with her? You'll end up paying for it.” Ghost quipped, his voice a mix of humour and caution.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ghost. Besides, I enjoy a challenge.” Soap's reply was filled with the kind of confidence that could only come from experience.

Kyle chuckled. “Keep that in mind when you finally meet her. She's not just a pretty face, she's got brains and brawn. You might learn a thing or two.”

The line went silent for a beat before Soap spoke up again. “Looking forward to it, Gaz. How's she holding up?”

Kyle’s eyes softened at the question. “As well as can be expected. She’s a tough one, that’s for sure. But she’s got a lot on her plate.”

“Family issues?” Ghost guessed.

Kyle nodded solemnly. “Something like that. She’s got a past she’s trying to outrun, and it’s catching up with her.”

“Yeesh. Price told her it would come knocking when she least expects it to.” Ghost’s voice was filled with a mix of sympathy and the bluntness you were used to. “Just keep her safe, Gaz. That’s all we can do for now.”

“And tell her to come to Glasgow for once. She’ll be more at ‘peace’ here than in London.” Soap remarked with a laugh.

“She’s from Yorkshire, Soap. She’s not exactly keen on Glasgow weather, unless you’ve got a sunbed with her name on it,” Kyle said, his eyes not leaving yours as he spoke into the phone, a gentle teasing glint in his eyes.

“Yorkshire’s weather is nice during summer. Absolutely freezing in Winter.” Ghost reminded Soap. As if he wanted to drill in the fact, you were happy living in Yorkshire and preferred to visit other places.

“Summer in Glasgow isn’t exactly a tropical paradise, but it’s still worth a visit. Besides, I’m sure we can manage to warm things up for her.” Soap’s voice grew slightly darker, a mischievous twinkle in his tone that made Kyle smirk.

“And I am certain you will most likely find yourself broke and upset long before the entire week would end.” Ghost and Kyle told him in unison reminding him you would take what he for what he is worth from his hide during either a match of blackjack or poker.

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olderthannetfic · 1 year ago

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EOTWR is at heart asking for common decency and trying to appeal to the fandom community's sense of common good. Racism is an issue in fandom, let's be the good people we proclaim to be and rally behind a righteous cause. Yay!

Amazing how call out culture can turn a good thing into a shitshow.

We just went through a global pandemic that pretty much proved that common good stops being a priority when people feel inconvenienced or think their freedom is curtailed. I certainly fantasized about screaming out all my rage at any anti-masker I encountered. Would have felt amazing. Not gonna change minds that way though.

I don't understand what results they were expecting when taking this exact approach with their campaign. It's all call out culture language! The very thing that is making fandom a general nightmare for everyone right now! The very thing that watered social justice language down until you genuinely can't tell good actors from bad actors anymore.

How were people supposed to know different when their language, the language of the supporters and the language of their most infamous member are basically indistinguishable from the language of the bad actors.

They're tired, they're angry, they're just trying to enjoy fandom in peace. It's not their job to educate us, answer any questions or perform the emotional labour to handhold white fragile hands through confronting their internal biases.

Ok, then don't be an activist because that's kind of the job description.

The people EOTWR failed to connect with are just as tired, just as angry and have also never known peace in fandom.

They're not going to perform the emotional labour to check if this callout is genuine when it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck.

And they can just not reblog, simply not engage, just not react AT ALL because we're on the internet and block functions exist. And from what I have seen everyone who DID engage but had questions and concern was immediately suspect.

Perform more rage at them while not gaining enough support to make a blip on OTW's radar. Keep wondering why they feel in no hurry to even REPLY. They probably took one look at the Campaign and breathed a sigh of relief because THEY know their audience well enought to know exactly how this would go.

I don't get the circular logic here. They approached the community call out first, got the entirely expected backlash, doubled down on calling everybody out and then performed more outrage because the response proved what they were saying all along!!

So they KNEW they were asking a bunch of awful racists to implement anti-racist policies in an awful, racist organization and decided the best approach was... *gestures*

The counterarguments will be all about tone policing, respectability politics, etc.

But that's just a lot of noise from people who are embarassed that they fell flat on their faces with this. I'm sure it's also a lot of genuine disappointment that fellow fans seem to care about other fans welfare so little. I get that.

So I'll be on the lookout for another campaign that is willing to meet people where they're at and for arguments that actually speak to the target audience. I'll reblog that one.

I'm sure some people did feel that way...

But this kind of "failed" campaign also operates how sending your cult members door-to-door does: it reaffirms that Outsiders are all Bad People who are against them and sucks them in tighter to the group. If someone's looking to recruit loyal followers, this is exactly how to do it.

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pygmypyncher · 1 year ago

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Hello, hope this is ok. Just to say how much I have enjoyed your writing for Bodies. Your writing is so beautifully detailed, and the internal nuances are delightful to wander amongst. I have read all TRC books, not my favourite, but I really like your fics, but Oh boy, I can see how your writing has developed since then. So, just a big thank you for writing all these pieces. (Do you have any recs for queer media that you have enjoyed?)

Thank you so much for messaging! It's really lovely of you to say!

Also very glad to hear my writing has come on since the TRC days! I was very proud of those fics at the time, and really do still think of them fondly, but I am aware of how much I've grown as a writer since then (hence the slight jumpscare this morning, for which I can only apologise!).

Queer media! Let me dredge my memories for a bit, and I will no doubt mention stuff you've heard of or watched/read already. There are doubtless SEVERAL things I've forgotten, as it is well past my bedtime, but if any glaring omissions occur to me I'll send them on! Shows: Recently I've really enjoyed Our Flag Means Death - you've probably at least heard of it (and as you've been looking at my AO3 you'll have seen I've written for it), and it's completely different from either TRC or Bodies tonally bc it is, in essence, a pirate sitcom, but there is honestly nothing so unashamedly and joyously queer out there at the moment. The fandom is a bit of a terrifying juggernaut, so I suggest treading neatly round the edges and delving into some absolutely top-tier fic (of which there is no shortage) if the whim takes you. On the other side of the pirate scale is Black Sails (DO NOT compare these directly they are very different beasts). Excellent story, very dark and gritty, great pay-off. Deadloch is another great show - Australian detective black comedy, filled to the brim with lesbians! The Haunting of Bly Manor is just a gorgeous ghost/love story with some brilliant characters. Feel Good is one of these unexpectedly heart-breaking sitcoms that I can't recommend enough even though it took me a year to build up the courage for a rewatch A League of Their Own (TV) is just brilliant, and i am GUTTED we're not getting a s2 I'm gonna stick Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries here too, bc even though it isn't actually all that queer (but it DOES have Miriam Margolyes, which definitely qualifies it), it's super camp and has what is possibly the only straight mc romance i've ever been invested in which is saying something Books: KJ Charles is a favourite of mine. She writes really great, quick-to-read queer historical romances that always have a great mystery and body count. The Will Darling Adventures (1920s pulp action-mystery with a romance between an ex-soldier who now runs a second-hand bookshop and a disgraced aristo) are my absolute favourites of hers, but everything she writes is very solid. I've also really enjoyed The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir series so far - very complicated Space Opera, again chock-full of lesbians. Sex: Lessons From History by Fern Riddell is a really interesting non-fiction book about, shockingly, attitudes to sex through history, and takes a delightfully non-heteronormative approach to it that I wasn't expecting going in. As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann is an all-time favourite read of mine, but is quite challenging as the main character is Not The Greatest Guy and it does carry some hefty stuff and warnings. Girl Meets Boy and How to Be Both by Ali Smith are both just brilliant stories with some great Gender Stuff going on.

Like i say, I'm sure I've missed stuff! And it's a bit all over the place because, as well as replying to your AO3 comments too early this morning, I am now answering this too late at night. I am sorry, but can do nothing about it :P I hope this is a little bit helpful at least! <3

#vmcgmidlifecrisis #ask #answered #dammit i meant to answer this privately sorry #but can't undo it without deleting everything

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dreamingofmuses · 11 months ago

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New Year's Resolutions: RP Edition

Howdy all, Ash here. I've been having a think while with family this week, and I've decided I'm going to implement some new 'resolutions' to try and help make writing in 2024 be way more successful than in 2023. This will include things from the running of blogs to jobs I really want to get finished. I'm putting them under a read-more to keep the dash nice and clean.

I will say, this has taken me an hour to write up, and I'd recommend you doing likewise if you think there's little ways you want to improve.

Overall Running of Blogs

I'm going to experiment a new approach to running the blogs. For this, I'm going to put all active blogs to low-medium activity. In other words, even if I am personally lurking on mobile, I won't be constantly writing things if I'm not able to. (Work is just about to get super busy and I'm anticipating chaos)

A queue/schedule function will be used for all blogs. I intend to dedicate one weekday evening to working without interruption on replies. Taking commutes to the city and family visits into account, this is looking to be a Thursday, which is the only day I am neither travelling to the city nor have a guaranteed family visit. Of course, this may fluctuate, but that's what I'm hoping to work with, assuming those things stay as they are.

However! What all this means is that I am going to tentatively take skullandbowties off hiatus. With that blog being quiet, it should be possible to juggle it better now. Plus, it's officially off-season so the demand for him from new blogs ought to be low. I'm very smart :D

I also plan to update all pinned posts. I am aware some of them are marking a vacation from months ago.

Individual Blog Maintenance

Create "New Here?" posts to add to the pinned posts/info tags. This is going to be a very quick crash course on what to expect from the blog, especially where some characters might diverge from fanon expectations.

FINISH. WILF'S. BIO. It's not actually relevant to anything being written on the blog itself at present, but I really want to flesh out his character and show that he was stuck in stories for years, decades even! The doc has the word count to 4,888 at this precise moment. This is a mix of summary and brainstorm. Since it's getting a 'little' out of hand, I intend to have a 'tldr' at the start that people can read, and then longer versions if they're curious to get the full story. Maybe even have it that they can jump to particular parts but... I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Likewise, Noah's version of Space needs to be finished. This one is going to be a summary, but it's a case of making sure the pieces are in place sufficiently to have parts match canon Space, but also make it clear that there is a lot of differences between canon and what he went through, with his plot entirely spiralling away for 'Part 2'. This is at 5,794 words, and the ending has yet to be ironed out...

(I am going to stop creating needlessly long-winded projects for myself that realistically add nothing of value to my blogs. These two projects are exhausting...)

Theauthorlives is returning to a very small multimuse. Any muses that aren't ones I genuinely enjoy writing are being fully archived, unless they are muses that get no traction but I want to keep the possibility open. Details of that will be shared when I do this.

Redo some muse icons (not all of them!). Though the selection I have for particular sets is a lot, I still feel like I'm missing some expressions or poses. I would like to remake one batch of icons for three characters, and finish iconning a third. Replies seem to be shifting toward iconless, but I like them for asks or IC commentaries.

OOC/Mun Related stuff

Following matters that have happened both online and IRL, I've decided to take a step back from actively engaging with people. My focus will be people that I have been in good communication with for the last twelve months (as well as people I don't talk to frequently but am on friendly terms with) rather than people I feel I have to 'chase' after. Saying that, I'm going to try and not let past experiences meddle with anything in with new writing partners - whether these are brand new to the community or people I've not had the chance to properly interact with prior to this. Just be aware that I might not be super outgoing at first. (This is where setting limits and boundaries is good practice, everyone! Don't sell yourself short, and don't spread yourself out too thinly!)

Which is where I now say I want to send even more asks! Not just memes or sentence starters, but general questions about headcanons or muse opinions. I want to get people thinking more.

My stance on Discord still stands, in that it's solely for OOC stuff, but I'm not giving it out to everyone. However, I have been in two group servers that have little-to-no connection with writing rp threads in them. I would hope that I can fully regain my sense of comfort using Discord as a whole.

Art related

Despite socially stepping back, I still want to keep some semblance of 'community' where my blogs are active so people don't feel isolated. For instance, I want to do something that encourages invasions of ask boxes. That was good fun to watch as the chaos began to spread, and when people are good-humoured to go along with my silly ideas.

I want to have one huge art-related event at some point this year. I'm not entirely what or how to do it, but I think it would be a great excuse to practice something. Portraits, comics, something like that. I'll have a think. (For those who remember, the water gun event was supposed to have an art conclusion but plans for that fell through.)

I want to try and upload drawn responses to heythereneighbor once a week if I can. Obviously, this is depending on how busy it is.

I'd also like to try doodling more on other blogs? But I'm not sure if this is even something people want to see anymore. People might prefer I focus on writing if I have free time instead of doodles or little comics.

... the writing blog. I need to do stuff with that in general. Whoops.

Finally, I want to do what I can to the best of my abilities on a particular day. I've always told people over the years that real life comes before rp, and I still stand by that. Whether I'm around or not every day isn't the end of the world. The communities I write in are a lot slower paced than they were when I started, which is great! I need to remind myself that I don't need to be writing just because I have a bit of free time.

#(but some of these won't be starting this week because my work week is a little jumbled up)#(one tldr is that I intend to have one day a week for writing that should hopefully be a Thursday #but not Thursday of this week because I'm commuting to work and have personal stuff on as well)#(aaaand now I sleep. Have to catch a bus in the morning.)

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