#a chapter update that will maybe excite nobody

[sesamestreep]

follow me like the moon (chapter 2)

When Bodhi turns it over to her with a thoughtful, “And how’s everything with you?”—well, Jyn rightfully panics. “Uh…there was a really hot guy at the diner the other day…well, night. The other morning. Whatever,” she offers, pathetically. After a year of working overnights, you’d think she'd know what to call it. “Really?” Bodhi asks, obviously intrigued. Because he’s the best, and even if her life is objectively less interesting than his, he still cares about how she’s doing. “Yep.” “And?” he presses. “What happened?” “Nothing happened,” Jyn says, trying not to scoff. “He was a customer. He came in, he ate, he left.” “Like the proverbial panda.” “What?” “The panda. From that joke? ‘Eats, shoots, and leaves?’” Bodhi explains. “Never mind. It’s just a dumb joke.”

(read the rest on AO3)

(start from the beginning)

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 15

Find the series masterlist

Well, we made it to the end of this fic. This is not the last I'll write of Master Chief, but I may take a break for a bit. I think I managed to wrap up everything with this last chapter, but if you have any lingering questions, I'd love to hear them!

Now, let's get this lot squared away, shall we?

Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries, little bit of politics, everything will be okay.

Word count: 2.7k

By the time you caught up to John, there were a group of Sangheili walking towards him. He didn't have a weapon in hand, so you figured it was safe enough. 

“Master Chief,” the one in front greeted, silvery armor different from what you were used to seeing. “It has been a long time.”

“Arbiter.” Chief inclined his head, ever so slightly. 

“You are a difficult man to find.” 

Chief just shrugged. You held back your laughter. 

“How did you find us?” Fernando joined you on your other side, subtly bracing you to help you get weight off your injured leg. 

“There was unusual slipspace activity,” Arbiter said calmly. “Whoever was controlling the computer was sloppy - pieces fell through, and from them we were able to determine the coordinates of this weapon.” 

You blinked. You’d gotten probably half of that, but you were also exhausted, so. Whatever. 

“We have injured,” Chief cut in, fortunately not looking down at you. “Limited supplies.”

“I have enough to share,” Arbiter agreed easily. “I will summon aid as well from the nearest human ships. In the meantime, you must tell me what happened here.” 

Chief nodded once, taking a step forward. Kelly (who had appeared from nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack) ushered you and Fernando away, more or less gently. 

“Kelly, what–?” You started to ask, frowning.

“You are supposed to be resting,” she reminded you. “I could always carry you.”

You huffed but didn’t object further. Okay. Fine. So she was right. But you wanted to know what was going on!

Somehow you ended up back in bed, pouting, a tray of food on your lap and Kelly making sure you and Fernando both ate. (Fernando opted to sit on the floor.) 

After the third time you huffed at your food, Kelly huffed back at you. 

“Keep that up and I won’t ask Fred for updates.”

You pouted harder but ate in silence. 

Vaguely, you could hear the camp buzzing around you, excited voices and the stomp of feet and movement all combining into one continuous drone. You’d bet news of the Sangheili ships had spread fast. Or maybe they’d heard about the human ships coming to aid too? How long would that take? How long had you been asleep, even? Long enough for Arbiter to arrive, clearly, but how long had that taken? 

“Stop thinking,” Kelly advised, poking your cheek. 

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled. And then paused. 

Welp. You were dead. 

Kelly huffed a tiny laugh. “So the explosion did knock the sense out of you,” she teased. 

You had no defense for that, so you just hunkered down in your bed, ears burning. At least you weren’t as sore today, though probably still some level of dehydrated. Your thigh was definitely the worst of your injuries still. 

“Why did you blow up Atriox?” 

The sudden question from Fernando startled you, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? And, I mean, it’s not like he was friendly.”

Fernando shook his head. “No, I know that, but why you?”

Oh. That was the issue. You swallowed, looking down at the blanket pulled up over your lap. “It’s not like I sat there and debated the pros and cons,” you started slowly, picking at a loose thread. “It just… happened. I was there. I had a grenade. Nobody else was close enough, and he was doing something, and I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.” 

Fernando perched next to you, taking one of your hands in his, ducking his head a little to meet your gaze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you got out okay, yeah?” 

You sniffled once, hands starting to shake. “Only because of John,” you whispered, shaking your head a little. “It was dumb, but I couldn’t do nothing.”

Fernando wordlessly pulled you into him, one hand patting your back gently but a little awkwardly as you fought back tears. 

“Here. Tea.” Kelly nudged you, ever aware of her strength, holding a mug until you took it. Fernando looked a little relieved, honestly. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Any idea how long things will take?” You took a sip of the tea. A little bland, but warm and soothing. 

Kelly shrugged, a monumental shift of broad shoulders. “Arbiter is chatty. Could be a while. Longer for ships to arrive.” 

Naturally. You made a face but didn’t protest, just drinking your tea. You still felt unsteady, like thinking too hard about anything might tip you out of balance again. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised - you’d had a harrowing experience that was going to stay with you for a long time.

But logic was hard to come by when you were busy wrestling your emotions back under control. 

The quiet was almost too much, after the stress of the last few days. But it was good, too - at least it meant there wasn’t any further excitement. Against your will, your head started to dip, eyelids growing heavy. The quiet was also very good for making you sleepy, at least when you were running on so little sleep. 

Fernando pushed you to take a nap, promising he’d wake you when something happened. 

So when you did wake up, bleary and confused, to someone sitting next to you, you thought it was Fernando.

“Go back to sleep,” John murmured, voice low and rough. A heavy arm settled over your waist as John laid down behind you, already dressed down.

“What happened?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Nothing yet.” He breathed out slowly, tickling the back of your neck. “Sleep.”

You huffed half-heartedly. You wanted more answers. But the furnace-like heat of him was soothing, his even breathing lulling you back to sleep before you could voice a complaint. 

You woke next time over-warm, restless and finally alert again. It took a bit of doing to get out from under John’s arm, but you did it. 

Only to find him awake, lips twitching with the barest of smiles, eyes bright with amusement. You dropped your head, torn between embarrassment and amusement. 

“How long have you been awake?” 

“Long enough.” He didn’t move, just watching you. 

“Good, you can catch me up on everything that I missed yesterday.” You sat up carefully, mindful of your bruises and aches. 

John shrugged, looking up at you while still reclined. “Nothing interesting.”

“Nothing interesting?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I doubt that.” 

John shrugged again, though his lips twitched. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Arbiter has agreed to give us aid,” he said, either taking pity on you or deciding not to test your patience. “UNSC ships are on the way, but it’ll take time for them to get here.”

You nodded, not quite sure how you felt about that. You’d been away for so long, and then this Halo had become its own kind of existence. You didn’t know what would happen after this, anxiety rising at all the possibilities parading through your mind. 

You breathed in slowly. You didn’t need to have all the answers right now. You were okay. You had time. 

John was watching you, though he didn’t reach for you. He just watched. 

You managed a little smile. “Breakfast?” Sure, you did both need to eat, but also you needed out of this conversation and out of your head. 

That got him moving, and it wasn’t long until the two of you were walking to get food. Your thigh ached, forcing you to go slower than normal, but you grit your teeth and worked through it. John didn’t offer to carry you, which was good because you probably would have hurt yourself smacking him. 

It was odd to see Sangheili around the base, standing taller than most everybody else. They kept out of the way, mostly, though a few of them had humans with them. You couldn’t hear the conversations, but you imagined mostly it was to do with supplies. Probably. 

John still attracted stares, as always, and you could just hear murmurs rippling through camp about the encounter with the Endless. How anybody knew, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure you cared to find out. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Soldiers were terrible gossips, so the story was bound to get around and probably even grow. 

But he wasn't the only one attracting stares.

You finally caught on when someone ahead of you in the chow line actually stopped and turned to look at you. Not at John. At you. 

“John,” you whispered, gaze flitting from person to person, uncertain. 

“Ignore them,” he muttered, gaze flicking down to yours before he gently nudged you forward. 

You frowned but didn't say anything more, just getting your food and then finding an empty table. The stares bothered you though, in a way they never had when it was just John people stared at. 

And then Fred plopped down next to you, making the bench shudder under his sudden weight, the bulk of him blocking most of the rest of the room from your view. The arm he threw over your shoulders helped. 

“Good to see you awake,” he rumbled, flashing you a smile. 

“Thanks.” You relaxed, finally doing more than just poking at your food. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, not much.” Fred smirked down at you. “Just that you became a legend.”

You choked on your bite of food. There were several moments of flurry as both Spartans tried to help, until you were no longer choking. “What?” You managed to ask, a little wheezy still. 

Fred and John exchanged a look before Fred cleared his throat. “Well,” Fred started, unusually slowly. “Word has gotten around about your part in defeating Atriox.” 

“I'm sorry, my what? My part?” You couldn't quite help the way your voice slowly went up in pitch. 

“You did roll a grenade under him,” John pointed out, entirely too reasonably. 

“That was hardly anything,” you pointed out, gaze darting between the two Spartans. “I was mostly useless.” 

“You survived.” Fred spoke quietly, almost gently, his gaze fixed on you. 

Your jaw dropped a little and you looked between the two rapidly, not sure how you felt. How you should feel. Your head throbbed, too much too soon, and you shoved away from the table abruptly. It felt like every eye in the mess was on you as you walked swiftly out, palms clammy, breathing fast. 

You didn't want any of this. You hadn't done that for recognition, or anything like that. You'd just wanted to help. 

A call of your name finally jerked you to a halt, and you blinked rapidly. You'd made it almost all the way to the edge of camp, the Pelican not far from you. Fernando watched from the open door, hair extra ruffled. 

“You okay?” He asked, brow furrowing in his concern. 

“Just…” You shrugged, hands flapping uselessly at your side as words failed you entirely. 

Fernando didn't push. Instead he stepped down onto the grass, walking over to you. He looked at you, closely enough that you weren't sure what to think, before he nodded once. 

“I see you learned part of why I avoid the mess.” 

That startled a huff out of you. “I think so,” you agreed, dry but more settled. 

“Come on, got some rations here.” Fernando dropped his arm over your shoulders, leading you into the Pelican. “Did Chief bother to catch you up on the actual news?” 

“I think so,” you murmured, settling easily into the copilot seat and taking the bar that Fernando handed you. “We're getting supplies and stuff from the Sangheili, and human ships are on the way to us.” 

“That's about it,” Fernando agreed. “Joy says it shouldn't be more than a week.” 

“Right!” Joy popped to life between the two of you with an easy smile. “And then everybody will get to go home!” 

Home. The thought filled your chest with an odd ache. You weren't ready to think about home yet. “But we've had so much fun here,” you snarked. “What are we doing about the remaining Endless?”

Joy shrugged, though the look she shot to Fernando was almost worried. “I don't think that's been decided yet.” 

“You are doing nothing,” Fernando scolded, even as he held out a canteen to you. “You are staying where it is safe.” 

You snorted. “I'm staying with John.” 

Fernando eyed you, clearly debating if he could win an argument. His lips twitched. “Stubborn.” 

You laughed quietly. “What's that old saying? Pot something kettle?” 

Fernando just snickered at you. “Finish eating,” he ordered you. “And drink more water.” 

You blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Since when did you get bossy?” But you took another bite of the bar. 

“Since things keep happening and you keep getting hurt.” Fernando watched you to make sure you ate and drank before he finally looked away, satisfied. 

Silence settled between the two of you, comfortable after all this time together. 

You wondered if you'd still be able to find this kind of quiet after the rescue ships arrived. 

“You know you're not going to end up alone, right?”

You jerked your gaze to Fernando, who wasn't even looking at you, but out at the view ahead of you both. It looked deceptively peaceful, with only a few lingering marks of humanity around. 

“I don't…” You swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence. 

“Chief will follow you wherever you go,” Fernando continued. “And I'm with him. Pretty sure Blue Team follows him too, mostly. So you won't be alone.” 

You breathed through the shock and revelation of that. You'd unpack that issue another day. 

“Neither will you,” you pointed out, giving him the same courtesy of watching the long grass sway. 

Both of you pretended not to notice signs of high emotion in the other. 

Heavy boots coming up the ramp made you both turn, watching as John approached. He didn’t say anything, just stood calmly between the two of you, one hand resting on your shoulder. 

He didn’t magically make things better. The panic still gnawed at your chest, the ache in your thigh hadn’t abated, and the dampness under your eyes hadn’t suddenly gone away. 

But you felt better, anyway. Just having John at your side helped. 

Things weren’t okay, and possibly never would be. But you were all alive. 

That was enough. 

–

It took a week for human ships to arrive.

Arbiter had led an assault against the remaining Endless, with Blue Team of course. You stayed behind, with Fernando threatening to sit on you. You did hear afterwards that there were fewer Endless than anticipated. Kelly seemed relaxed… except for the tap of her fingers against her thigh.

But there was nothing else to be done. If some Endless somehow managed to get off the Halo, nobody knew how, or where they had gone. There was nothing to be done.

It took a little time to arrange evacuation - the wounded went first, then everyone else. Chief, of course, insisted on being on the Pelican, along with Blue Team and yourself. Fernando, of course, was piloting. 

You personally made sure Lindsay and Carter got on board a ship. 

It was odd, seeing the base so empty. Not many were left beyond a few Sangheili and the last of the survivors of the Infinite. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Fernando murmured, unconsciously mirroring your thoughts, even as he stood next to you.

“It is.” Your lips twisted in some complicated expression. You wouldn’t miss life here. You’d never miss those months of fear and cold and survival. But all the same… “Just as strange to suddenly be going back.”

Fernando hummed soft understanding. “It’s not all bad,” he said with a little teasing nudge of his elbow to your ribs.

“No,” you agreed, hearing John coming up behind the two of you. “Not all.” 

“These are the last to board,” John informed you, one big hand settling at your waist. “The Pelican is loaded.” 

You breathed in deep, slowly. This Halo truly was beautiful. 

Maybe someday you’d be able to look at long grass and flowers again. 

“Let’s go,” you said, turning away from the view to look up at John, staring into the familiar gold of his visor. 

Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you knew he smiled. Just a little. Just for you. “Together.”

[scarlettsandmaroons]

she is midnight rain | n. romanoff

about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist

pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader

chapter one | chapter two: she doesn't think of me

chapter summary: you just learned that your soon-to-be professor is straight up terrible. and in an attempt to drop out of her class, you instead became the target of her humiliation. you just knew you will hate her as she will you.

warnings: evident mommy issues (not really into depth)

a/n: im very excited to write this series (that's a lie, i'm only excited about the smutty parts, the beginning, not so much). will be trying to post an update every other day ꒰ ⸝⸝ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷⸝⸝꒱

for all your years in high school, and the very few months you had before college, you didn't have a plan. you didn't know where you wanted to go. you didn't know what you wanted to take. there were too many choices. or maybe there's barely any. you just couldn't choose for yourself, you couldn't decide.

when you don't have a mother or in your case, when you have a mother who chose her boyfriend over you, you don't really have anyone telling you what to do, where to go. and maybe some people would love the same freedom that you had, but with that freedom was misguidance. you had nobody to help you choose, nobody to guide you, to teach you, to tell you what's best for you. you have to decide all that.

but when nobody told you what was best, what was the standard for best, how could you possibly have known. how could a child understand what was best for her when she was taught nothing about the sort.

you didn't know what you wanted, and your best judgement told you to trust in your friend and follow billy maximoff. he was your bestfriend. your other half. the only person you can confide in. you knew that you had to study where he would. you couldn't possibly survive on your own. you needed him to guide you. to tell you what to do. to protect you.

"you're in mrs. romanoff's class."

you were snapped out of your thoughts. you've been staring at the field the entire time. at the massive open field between the campus and the gate. you didn't know how long you've been here, for a moment, you didn't even remember billy being in front of you holding your class schedule.

"y/n, yoo-hoo. are you okay?" billy waved a hand in front of you. "what are you thinking?"

you sighed, "i can't believe i'm in college now and i still don't know what to do." you said, looking over billy's shoulder and getting once again lost in your own head. "how am i going to survive..."

"well, i'll survive." he said proudly, earning back your attention. you almost scowled at him for being a show-off. but he smiled at you. a soft reassuring smile. "i'll survive for the both of us." he said.

your heart fluttered a little. you didn't have a mom. or a dad. or siblings. but you had a family. you had billy.

"i know what i'm going to be. i have a plan. and while you don't have any for yourself, i'll carry you." he says.

you looked at your watch. freshman orientation is in a few, and seeing your attention on the clock sent billy the hint that you both should get going. nevertheless, your conversation didn't end as you both walked into the campus.

"how will you carry me?" you mused, not returning the same sentiment he sent you as you simply humored his words.

he held the straps of his bagpack. "mmmm..." he started thinking, "i'll get a job as soon as we graduate. you can stay with me and my parents until i get my own place which i'd be glad to share with you." he says. "that way, you can finally move out from your mum's house."

"that's... very free-loader of me." you chuckled, visualizing the life you'd share with your friend.

"well, you're my free-loader." he looks at you all giddy. "that's what friends do, right?"

you sighed, "yeah."

billy never had a good relationship with his twin brother, tommy. tommy decided to stay with his father after their parents got a divorce. billy on the other hand, stayed with his mother as she remarried.

you've never met mrs. maximoff's new husband. in fact, it's been a really long time since you'd seen billy's mom. the last time you saw her, she had some sort of a 50s haircut. from what your bestfriend tells you, she went through quite a few hair phases from a shoulder length side part to a long-haired rebonded look. at some point, you know she went crazy and got a full head of tight blonde curls. that was her, "going through a hard time with my husband so i must do something so incredibly different with my hair" hair. she went back to the normal big curls, fluffy airburn hair after she remarried though.

that's how close you were with billy. you were his sister, almost. you knew everything about him. even about his mother's haircuts half of which you're sad you weren't around to see.

"mr. stark's coming by for the orientation, did you know that?"

you looked at billy. "the rich guy who owns stark industries?"

"yeah. he's a friend of my moms and dad's."

"no way?!" you all but gasped. you did coo in shock a bit, looking at him with widened eyes. "damn, it must be nice to be connected to him." you say, your mind going on to imagine what your life would be if you were as rich as him. or even connected to him. then you wouldn't have to think about all the important decisions you need to make.

"he's connected to a lot of the professors here." billy mentions. "mr. rogers, mr. banner, mr. barton. but he's closest to mrs. romanoff. they're best friends." he looks at his watch. "i think he's here for the engineering department though. he's funding them lots."

"mrs. romanoff?" you ask, complete disregarding his following statement.

"he's the reason why mrs. romanoff met my parents." he says.

"i'm in her class right?"

you haven't taken a look at your timetable yet because billy has held onto it since it was given to you. eyeing all the names of your professors and giving you some kind of commentary about them. he knows a lot about them. mrs. maximoff used to be a professor here, and for the entirety of high school, billy frequented this very campus.

"yeah." he scoffed. "good luck."

"why? is she mean?"

"terribly." he says. "she's nice, but as your professor? she'll eat you alive."

you were in two of mrs. romanoff's classes, unfortunately for you. you had her in english literature, and business economics. and until classes had officially begun two days after your orientation, stories of how horrible she is; from how she failed more than half of the total students she's had in her lifetime, to how much she enjoys either suspending, or expelling her students over the littlest inconveniences became the center of all your conversations with billy. for someone who knows a lot about her, you wish he had gotten her instead of you. now the dreading fear of seeing her live up to your horrible expectations of her with you is just crippling.

"i'm dropping out of mrs. romanoff's classes." you blurt out during billy's long monologue of the stories he's heard about the professor.

he looked at you, "no! i didn't mean to scare you." he almost laughs. "she's actually really nice!"

you shot him a sharp glare. if he dares to defend mrs. romanoff after all the stories he's told, then he's better off shutting his mouth.

"yeah, no. too late."

there was a part of you that tugged at the idea of actually doing it. if there were something that stopped you, you would so give into it and drop it. you simply needed to know that you wanted to do—that you can do something about it so you can lie yourself into thinking that you have, this new life of yours, under control. and you were lucky enough to just serve into that purpose as you were unlucky enough to have stumbled upon a wooden door that had mrs. romanoff's name spelled out in gold letters.

natasha romanoff.

billy has been talking this entire time, explaining to you how mrs. romanoff could've been better than what he initially led you to believe. you've been taking mental notes but you haven't really been paying attention, so you only got, "she's the best professor here. constantly commended by the dean himself" and "her class is the hardest to get into. only the best of the best can get into it—"

you heard nothing further as you started fixating on how there was absolutely no way of telling if she was in as the massive window deemed useless with the blinds covering it. despite your efforts in trying to take even the smallest peak inside, no luck.

you can turn away. but you're here now. besides, not knowing whether or not she's in isn't really an inconvenience worth turning away from.

perseverance glinted your eyes. you weren't giving up. you put a hand on the handle, "y/n, no, she—", and you went in without hearing out billy, or even giving the chance for anyone to let you in.

you have to transfer out of her class before you have to go in it. as uncomfortable as this might be, it's this, or a whole year or more worth of wishing you got out when you could.

inside was a woman sitting at the desk just a few steps away from you. it was a relatively average sized room. it wasn't too small. not too cramped. but it wasn't too big either. not too empty. the walls of either sides were bookshelves. the back wall, a massive window overlooking the entire front of the school.

the woman lifted her head to see you, and immediately, you were taken aback by her... beauty. the features that are of the ordinary, but on its entirety, with all of it combined, created this image of the goddess sitting in front of you.

you melted. you pictured her to be an old woman, but now you see why everyone was so intimated by her. her simple gaze, and unmoving disinterest of your presence made you feel so small. to have such a gorgeous woman look at you like you didn't matter, exactly the way that she did you, is so intimidating. so belittling. yet, you were enamored. you were captured by her. she was just simply mesmerizing. satisfying.

she had red hair. massive curls that cascaded down her shoulders as if so intricately placed to look so neat and clean. she had a side part, though, it was barely noticeable as the part was a lot closer to the center than it should be for a side part. her eyes were so brightly... emerald. despite of the shadows created by the light behind her, it stayed so vibrant. like a gem. she had such a beautifully molded nose. and red lips. you wanted nothing else but to stare at her forever.

"i suggest you start saying something now, before this intrusion of yours becomes the reason why your time here ends."

her voice sent chills down your spine. you felt goosebumps. all the hair in your body rose. her voice was so terribly cold. she was composed, and calm. and had not a care in the world, especially you. the way she delivered it with such disinterest, almost in a condescending way made you feel so small. it gave you all the more reason to drop out.

she was looking up at you. her chin was resting at the back of her hand where she had a pen between her fingers.

she made your heart race in fear.

"i'm in your class." you take a deep breath. "i'd like to drop out."

you see the end of her lip twitch almost in amusement when her eyes dropped to the papers on her desk. she fixed her posture and started fixing the mess she had laid out. she did it so painfully slow as if you weren't there. but when she stood up, placing both of her hands on her desk, you knew she wasn't trying to torture you. the way the end of her lip raised into the slightest grin made you realize she was having her fun with you. like one of the students she'd amuse herself with first, embarrass, torture, belittle, before kicking out. almost like you were a toy. one of the many for her.

you gulped.

"tell me, miss y/f/n y/l/n. why do you want to drop out?" she asks, slowly going around her desk before she gestured to a chair in front of it—not to offer you a seat, but to require you to do as she wants, and sit down. "you haven't even seen me in class yet. i doubt you even had the chance to attend your very first class which you will soon miss if you continue to—waste, my, time."

you gulped again. something about the way she stares at you while she walks to the small table by the bookshelf where she had a few glasses and whiskey made your throat dry.

"i heard stories."

"i assure you, miss y/l/n," you flinched a bit when her glass hits the surface of her desk, later followed by her body dropping to her seat in the most elegant way. "whatever you heard is true."

goosebumps again. not good goosebumps. "please let me leave because i want to cry" goosebumps. her eyes were piercing through you, you can't imagine moving. to even relax your shoulder and somehow offending her with the slight movement is such horror for you.

she took a sip from her drink. before letting the glass hang barely by her fingertips as she leans closer to you, her chin resting once again on the back of her hand.

"how old are you?" she asks.

"i just turned 18." you answer quickly as if it would disappoint her if you waited a beat.

"what is something worth knowing about a y/f/n y/l/n?" you didn't notice the way your name rolled off her tongue. you didn't notice she knew your name this entire time. she said it with such grace. never had your name sounded so foreign. so new. so beautiful.

something about her was pulling you in. sucking you into her. and you weren't sure if it was the fear of getting kicked out, or just because of her sheer charms that made you blurt out every thinkable thing about you.

"i'm 18. i just turned 18." you started, taking a deep breath in and calming yourself down when you realized how quick you were talking. "i can't drive for the life of me. i hate milk. i'm plainly unhealthy. i don't drink vitamins. or eat an average amount of nutrients and meals in general. i'm nocturnal, i can't fall asleep at night. i love juice, soda, everything but water. i have a complicated relationship with my hair. i..." the realization stunned you. the realization that you were sitting in the office of who you heard was the strictest professor in this very university, telling her about the most absurd, uninteresting things about you, when you might just be on the very verge of getting kicked out of your bestfriend's dream university.

you calmed yourself down. you tried to rid yourself of the panic you resorted to burying deep deep down, you fixed your posture, cleared your throat, and in the most modulated voice that you can harness within yourself, you said, "i am ambitious, strong, independent—" that's a lie. "bright, optimistic, and persistent. and i really want to have the opportunity to begin my year in this university—" hopefully not in your class. "because i know that i have the exact amount of wit, and dedication this school is looking for in a student." i don't want to be in your class. "if given the opportunity to... in a different class wherein i can flourish."

"well," she says as if impressed. you stood up when she did, giving her a hopeful expression like that's going to boost your chances of getting out of her class without suffering the grave consequences she's known to give.

she moved around the table again, this time, moving slowly towards you. step by step. closer each passing second. and when the two of you were finally faced to face with each other without the desk between you, her small smirk dropped. "no." she says in a way that showed you how amused she was of putting your efforts of coming in here to waste without sounding anywhere besides stern.

"what?"

"i said no."

"no, what?" at this point, you were in distress. but you tried your best to hide it. you weren't very successful though. your voice raised, though you all but shouted.

her left hand rested on the surface of her desk when she leaned her hip against it, tipping her head slightly to the side, "look, miss y/l/n, i did not just waste all this time getting to know you and your... habits, just for you to drop out of my class."

her tone was unkind. she was cold, and stern. and she wanted nothing but to get her way. your attempts gave her mere amusement. she didn't acknowledge you, or your request, she just wanted to see the way your face would contort in shock when she declines you after letting you think your efforts would get you anywhere.

"but, mrs. romanoff—"

"BUT...! miss y/l/n—" she didn't shout, but the way she said it, the way her voice raised. you wanted to crawl into a cave and cry. especially with the way her eyes lingered on a little too long on yours before she looked away and returned to her seat. "i could so easily penalize you for entering my office with no permission." her tone was mad. graceful, elegant. calm and collected. but mad. "i would have you suspended if i didn't appreciate your... attempt, to even come inside my office, to speak to me and look me straight in the eye requesting me for something... you're gutsy. you could've used that in my class instead."

you weren't going to win.

today, you realized, that mrs. romanoff will always have the power. and if you can't handle that, then you're better of leaving the school.

she's dreadful. she's dark. she's the storm that angers the seas. and the rain at midnight. she is going to potentially ruin your chances of succeeding in this university—in life, and you will... hate her as you are now definitely sure she will you.

"i'll see you later."

you did see her later. a blissful 2 hours without her was replaced by dread when the moment you sat on the very back of the lecture hall, she came in. everyone stood before her, as if it were highschool, and you just went with it. just a mere clack of her high heeled shoes had everyone on their feet, their hands on their chest as if she was a goddess to be worshiped.

"good morning, everyone."

nobody spoke, it was mere silence after a beat of her greeting in which she gestured everyone to sit. you hid behind a tall man. the lecture hall was packed. although, there were a few empty seats up front.

"i'd like to begin today with..." she didn't have much with her. she only had a clipboard which she places on her desk. she took quite a while adjusting. but when she did; when she was leaning back on her seat, her legs elegantly crossed, where her hands rested on her knee, she looked straight ahead. and for a moment, you thought you can feel her eyes boring through the people you're hiding behind of and staring at you. "i have absolutely zero tolerance for any of your bullshit." all the calmness of her tone before was replaced by a sheer sharpness. "you either do as i say, exactly as i say it, or you leave this classroom. better yet, this school. are we clear?" she was stern. and you were scared. "now," she says with an exhale. "you at the back," you froze. "are we clear with that?"

[acid-ixx]

Hey hey, you don’t have to answer this ask but truly your works has been so comforting to me in my worst moments with how you write loneliness. I apologize, I should had shown my appreciation earlier as the way you write isolation brought me relief in the understanding of it from a deeper level.

Sure, while there is an occasional joy of reading something where you, the reader instantly gets the love you always crave for… Unfortunately it is never that perfect or at all realistic, sure when people think of touch-starved you think of the desperate and all encompassing one where one is filled with warmth but never about the opposite where you are so touch-starved it floods your guts with nausea at the sudden abundance of it. And you, you! You write that perfectly, I cared about your reader, I was able to cry, I was able to express anger and pace around the room at how well you structure your works. And I wasn’t even a fan of Batfam or indulge deeply into any Batman related media until your fics came across my dash and I was ever so curious to find a nicely written gift basically.

Although I am not as skilled at the pen as you, I feel I should exchange some other things I saved of writers’ words that too gave me some comfort as well in hopes you do as well.

Thank you dedicating your time to write such intimate loneliness, I do truly appreciate and found solace in the best and worst of your reader struggling to accept the nuances of love. The absence and over abundance of love can truly drive all humans to be the worst version of themselves in order to find stability.

No need to post another fic and while I do enjoy them, you can always write about other stuff. Do a Q&A; what inspires you, what are your interests outside of this blog, and etc. Reblog other blogs, make characterization or silly posts, share other things you love at your own will. You, at the end of the day is your greatest priority, no need to demean yourself because you know yourself the best. Thank you and sorry for rambling!

did u know i teared up when i read this ? idk why i did but maybe it's the fact that my writing is meant to primarily comfort myself, it's the things i write whenever i feel absolutely terrible and to see how it genuinely comforts others made me a bit emotional. tysm for your kind words 🥹 but at the same time there's no need to apologize! nobody is obligated to repost or comment on my works really, i just appreciate it when people do since it counts as a way to inspire me and this one genuinely did.

and yes, i love to write about loneliness and abandonment and all those negative emotions purely because it's my medium of ranting about the neglect i went through as a child, it's kind of like my own therapy hehe. u alongside the others love my portrayal of my mc so much it makes my heart go doki doki istg 🎀

also, the poems you sent me made me very emotional too, because i love poems and the symbolic meanings behind them and both pictures just ignited that dying flame i have to insert a poem for chapter 4 of a&a. i love the first poem about the struggles of finding love through your parents and eventually moving on and building a future for yourself and the second one desiring tenderness in the simplest of intimate moments just made my touch starved self ache.

and tysm too for you, alongside many others, reminding me to write for myself because i truly am! it's all just been so tiring seeing a notification and thinking it must've been some input about my writing only to find out it's people asking when or if i'm going to update soon that makes me start to think writing is an obligation, but i'm really trying my best and i feel excited doing a 4k follower special 🩷

[naussensei]

The worst thing about starting a new story is being so excited about it that you can’t wait to get home and just write and write and write, and you update one chapter after another in this frenzy of creativity where everything flows and everything feels great and fun and amazing, until you realize you’ve been doing this for weeks now, and then it suddenly hits you that maybe nobody is as excited about it as you are, and than people don’t care about it like you do, but it’s fine, because you’re enjoying it at least. But then it slowly becomes less fun, and then it slowly becomes a little less exciting, and then every time you hit ‘post’ you hesitaste a little more, because it doesn’t really matter if you post today or tomorrow, because nobody is looking forward to it anyway. And it’s still fine, you’re still enjoying it, so you keep going. But then you start hesitating more and more every time, because every click on that ‘post’ button is a confirmation of something you already knew. And then you start delaying the updates, and maybe even losing interest, because why are you even sharing if you’re the only one excited about it and you can read it anytime you want from your gdocs? But you keep telling yourself that it’s fine. It’s fine, because you still love writing and you love your story and that’s enough. That’s why you started writing it in the first place. You’re writing this for fun. So then you hit that post button again, even when you really didn’t want to, and then it really starts hitting you. Because it confirms once again that there is only silence from the other side, just as you expected. And so it becomes clear to you now. That people don’t care enough to let you know someone else IS reading, and that maybe your story is not even worth two seconds of their time to click on the little heart at the bottom, and that maybe… maybe it’s not that good of a story after all, and that it’s possibly not even interesting enough to give it the slightest chance, and that it’s really not worth all that time and effort and excitement you had, just to scream at the void and encounter nothing but silence.

Yeah. That really makes you wanna drop writing forever sometimes.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Four

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: Old habits (of fleeing) die hard unless, of course, you're forced to face things rather than running from them.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, Al-Anon, addiction, interventions.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Hi besties ! ! ! ! As promised, here’s the next chapter for you all, earlier than planned as a sorry for taking so long ! Life is getting hectic and I'm currently preparing to move into my dorm for this coming school year, hence why I couldn't update with the last chapter earlier . I transferred to a different university than the one I was originally going to so a lot of things are new to me again, but I'm still excited ! ! ! Anyways, get your happy puppy and kitty pictures to look at after this chapter and i hope you all have a wonderful day and wonderful read <3

EDIT: Changed the name used for an added side character to avoid confusion with the name of a character from the show, sorry to those who are named Amanda as that's the name i used as a replacement (:

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic

Chapter Three / Masterlist / Chapter Five

Your fingers shook around the steering wheel as you pressed on the accelerator harder, making the engine of your old car rumble louder in your ears. It wasn’t loud enough to drown the loud and rapid heartbeat in your ears though.

Luckily for you, it was green light after green light.

You raced home, expecting to come home to a silent house with nobody there to try and talk you out of your decision. After all, it was a weekday and it was past noon, almost everyone in Chicago was either working or in school.

“Pack then leave, pack then leave, pack then leave…” you mumbled to yourself, eyes darting back and forth as you switched lanes to weave in and out of traffic. You were met with angry yells and annoyed honks as you did so, but it didn’t matter to you. You needed to get home. 

Your stuff was shoved in the back seat, half spilled from both you throwing it inside and your reckless driving. After you had the argument with everyone at The Beef, you stormed inside to silently grab your things from your locker and go. Neither Richie, Carmy, nor Sugar said a word to you as you did so, but Tina was the first to call out your name and try to calm you down. She had definitely heard everything that went down outside, those walls were absolutely not sound proof. 

“What the fuck does Carmy know anyways. He’s the one who refused to come back or even reach out at all when Mikey…  fucking hypocrite,” You mumbled to yourself, eyes narrowing and your hand gripping the steering wheel until your fingers hurt. 

Tina, however, anxiously worked at her station, half glancing over to you and half working on her task in the kitchen. You knew that she was split between wanting to reach out to you and wanting to keep going with her work, but you would never make her or anyone else choose, so you chose for her by ignoring her and leaving. 

She and everyone else are better off without you anyways.  

The tires of your car screeched as you swerved into the empty driveway.

“Fuck yes…” you whispered to yourself, skin sweaty as you shoved yourself out of your car. No cars in the driveway means an empty house. You were in the clear. 

As you approached the front door, house keys already in hand, you mumbled out plans to yourself, “Maybe Florida? It’s probably rainy and humid this time of year but if it means getting away from here, I can deal with it…”

The front door swung open before you could finish unlocking it, making you jump and gasp out as you came face to face with your mom.

“Sweetie? Are you okay? What’s going on? Why do you look ill?” You mom rushed out, eyes wide and confused.

“I'm fine Mom but I have to go.” You rushed out, pushing past her to run to the stairs. Your mom let out an unintelligible string of words as you started running to your room, heart pounding as it seemed like your once “foolproof” plan was starting to unravel. 

“Fucking fuck fuck fuck shit!” You mumbled to yourself, spitting out the words harshly as you barged into your room and began pushing things into the boxes and bags you hadn’t yet unpacked.

In your rush to pack, you didn’t hear your mom’s footsteps getting closer nor did you hear what she was saying. 

"Honey, how about you slow down for a second and take a deep breath?" She said, sounding exasperated as she pushed herself over the threshold and into your room.

"Not now mom," You replied, hissing for a brief second as you cut your finger on a sharp edge of a box before continuing to pack. 

"Seriously, I think you should stop for a second and then we can do whatever it is that you want to do, okay?" 

This made you pause. 

"...what?" You blinked, slowly turning to your Mom. 

She smiled at you, but the corners of her eyes didn't crinkle as she did so. You scanned her body, noticing the way her body language indicated that she was fully open and not at all anxious. 

You opened your mouth briefly, before shutting it and complying with her ask. You breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7 seconds, and let it go for 8 seconds. In front of you, your Mom beamed at you, but again you noticed how her eyes never once left yours and how they didn't crinkle at the corners like they usually did. 

"Let me help you pack, okay?" She said, voice calm. 

You watched as she moved forward and grabbed a box already full of your stuff before grabbing a smaller box. You continued to watch and followed her as she went down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door to your car. 

As she placed the box in the car, you turned and bolted. Your feet thumped loudly as you went back up the stairs and you felt your shirt cling onto your sweaty skin. Something was up, you just knew it, and you needed to find out what it was before it was too late. 

But in this moment, the memory of your conversation at The Beef earlier replayed in your head for the 6th time that hour, and your panic settled in once again. 

With two boxes in hand, you started to leave your room to go to the front door, passing your mom who didn't so much as glance at you. Your eyes followed her frame, noting no change in her calm demeanor. 

It frightened you immensely. 

The pit in your stomach gnawed at you as you placed the boxes in the trunk, making you feel like you were going to throw up and pass out at the same time. When you left Mikey's funeral in a rush, your parents followed you. You had insisted on going in separate cars, convincing them that being alone in your car would help you prepare yourself before you went into the funeral home. But they still followed you in their own car, practically tailgating you as you ran through red lights to get home. 

You let out a shaky breath, remembering the way your mother sobbed and tried convincing you not to leave as you packed your car with the few things you were willing to take. Your father tried reasoning with you, eyes filled with tears and voice shaky but stern as he pleaded you to think your decision through. They tried everything, from promising you a vacation to get your mind off everything to threatening you with involuntary inpatient services. But nothing worked, so all they could do was run down the block, following your car as you took off, determined to seek refuge out West. 

Your mom walked around you, placing more boxes in the car with a loud clunk, taking you out of your thoughts. Your head whipped around to see her organizing your boxes.

"There's a couple more things up in your room but I wasn't sure if you wanted to take them." She said, a small smile appearing on her face as she looked over her shoulder at you.

Your eyebrows creased and your chest heaved, feeling disturbed by her overall calm attitude to this situation. She was not at all acting like the way she did the first time, which felt odd considering that you were planning on doing the same exact thing as you did before. You would even dare say that you felt like she was happy you were leaving. 

"Uhm… okay," and with that you took a couple careful steps back to watch her before turning to go back inside. 

'What the fuck is going on?!' You thought to yourself, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to chew on it as you went up the stairs. 

Sure enough, there were some things left in your room aside from the boxes labeled 'The Beef' that you were certainly not going to take. But before you could decide, the sinking feeling hit you. 

Why was your mom home? She should've been at work at this time. While she did take time off to spend with you when you first came home, she had already returned to work a couple days ago. Why did she not continue to question why you were home? You did leave a message explaining where you were before you left so she knew that and she also knew that you planned to stay at The Beef the whole day, so she would probably be confused as to why you came home early and in a rush. Additionally, she seemed okay with your decision to leave which was nothing like her previous attitude. And why the hell was she so calm?!

Then, it clicked. 

Your throat dried up. 

Someone must have told her and now she is planning something. 

You raced down the stairs, hands clammy as you gripped onto the stair railing to launch yourself forward. The only person you knew that would have her number and would be willing to reach out to her about something like this was Sugar. Your legs buckled as you rushed out front, only to see your Mom calmly waiting for you. 

"Oh honey, don't forget your wallet and charger-" She said, perking up when she saw you. 

"What are you planning?" You blurted out, interrupting her. 

Your mom furrowed her brows and tilted her head, "What do you mean?" 

"Why are you letting me go? You're not screaming or yelling and just letting me do this?"

You mom blinked at you, unmoving. It was eerie to see her not react to what you were saying.

After some silence, your mom spoke up, "You're an adult and I respect every decision you will make, regardless if I agree with it or not." 

Your eyes narrowed. Although this didn't seem very far off when it came to the parenting philosophy they raised you with, something about this still made you feel alarmed. 

"How about we stop for ice cream at that creamery we love before you go?" 

There's the catch. 

You visibly tensed your body, "Okay…" 

Something was going to happen to you once you got there, you just knew it, but you were going to make a plan and get the hell out of there. 

With a smile, your mom walked to the passenger's seat of the car, "Go lock up for me, okay? I have my purse in the car already." 

You nodded slowly, jaw locked as you took small steps to the front door. When you finally sat down in the driver's seat, your mom was humming to herself and messing with her hair in the mirror. 

"You're planning something," you announced again, half mumbling. 

Your mom briefly stopped humming to chuckle and shake her head before continuing, seemingly unphased by the way you accused her. But this nagging feeling would not go away, so you did all you could do in that moment: drive. 

You sat on the bench outside of the small old creamery, leg bouncing rapidly. You've been going there with your parents since you were a kid, something that you also included Mikey, Carmy, Richie, and Natalie in when they could join you. You would sometimes sneak away after school together or go after football games, right before it would close at midnight. And here you were, one last time, before you would go to… Florida. 

The sweet cream of the ice cream cone you had in your hand made you hum as you licked it, the flavor exploding over your tongue. It was delectable, after all you got your favorite flavor.

You were going to miss it. 

You mom walked over to the table you sat on, holding her own cup of butterscotch ice cream, before sitting down to join you. The sun was warm and the sky was a bright blue. The overall happy atmosphere of the day didn't seem to quell whatsoever. 

You eyed her carefully for a second but only saw her indulging in her own ice cream. So you looked away and started to plan your trip to… Florida. 

You decided that first, you would drop your mom off at home and tell her what you wanted to say to dad. Then, you would drive to the nearest gas station and fuel up on both gasoline and snacks, maybe get a slurpee from 7/11, and start driving towards St. Louis. You could sleep in your car for the night at a Walmart and then drive to Atlanta the next day. After that, just head straight to Florida, home free!

Your mom cleared your throat to get your attention, making you whip your head around to face her. 

"Oh sweetie, do you mind if I go next door? We got a new tax guy and his office is just next door. I need to drop off some papers so that he can finish prepping our file." As if like magic, your mom pulled out some stapled papers from her purse. 

"When did we get a new tax guy?" 

"Last month, your father wanted to change from using H&R Block because of all the problems we had with them last year so we found this new guy."

You glanced at her, finding her eating her ice cream and looking at you; not a concern or worry was written on her face. Her story did seem to add up, your parents did complain about their tax people so this didn’t seem suspicious. So you, cautiously, nodded. 

She got up and began to walk down the sidewalk, "You can join me if you would like." 

You pursed your lips and took the risk, "Uh… sure." 

The request seemed simple and innocent enough, making your anxiety ease for a second. She might have not gone to work because she had errands to do and the paperwork she held under her arm seemed legit. And as you walked into the building and headed towards the office at the end of the hall, everything actually seemed okay. Maybe she did respect your decision and just wanted to spend some time with you before you left. 

"Give me a second," Your mom said, pausing. 

You crashed into her back, heart racing again as she stopped. But all she did was hand you the papers and turn to walk over to the trash can. 

"Give me your trash," she said, reaching out for you to give her your dirty napkins. 

Complying, you watched her throw the trash away before walking back to you, nodding for you to walk through the door in front of you. 

Inside was a large, empty office. It was bright with the grayish white walls and unfinished concrete floors projecting the light from the large windows everywhere. It made you squint as you moved blindly forward. 

The door behind you clicked at the same time that you blinked, eyes adjusting. There was a small circle of chairs in front of you, some occupied by a few people while others were empty. A couple people were hanging out by what looked to be a snack table and another person was standing by someone, chatting. But when you came in, they all paused to turn to you. 

This was what she was planning. 

Someone in a cardigan and with a gentle smile began approaching you and beside you your mom began to speak, "Sweetie, this is for the best…" 

But her voice faded from your mind as your heavy breaths and fast heartbeat overwhelmed you. You whipped around, stumbling from the speed in which you did so, and crashed into the chest of a tall person who was blocking the door. 

You heaved a breath. 

Behind you, the person in the cardigan spoke, "Hi, I understand this might be confusing and overwhelming but your mom brought you here because she cares about you and your well being. My name is Amanda and I'm more than happy to answer all your questions." 

"What the fuck is this? Is this an intervention? What am I doing here? Why am I here? Mom, why did you take me here?" You rushed out, feeling the room spin and your body get cold as you quickly glanced around the room. 

In an instant, the calm neutral face your mom had fell into one of concern, with her eyes glossy  and eyebrows pressed together, "This is an Al-Anon meeting sweetheart and it's for the best, okay? Just one meeting and then we can go home, alright?" 

Your legs gave out on you. As you collapsed onto the floor, your vision blurred but you could make out the way your mom screamed and rushed forward to grab you. Amanda looked concerned but concentrated, as if she knew exactly what to do, when she got down onto her knees to help you. You could also feel some heavy hands grab onto your shoulders behind you as your vision faded to black.

When you regained consciousness, you felt the wind gently caress your cheeks as it blew by. It felt nice, not feeling sweaty and flushed. But as you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself leaning on your mom, half laid on a bench, outside a building you had no idea about. 

“Hey honey, are you feeling ok?” Your mom said, instantly hugging you against her body as she noticed you beginning to stir. 

“Yea… yea… I'm fine,” you said, your words coming out slurred as you brought yourself up to sit. 

“How are you feeling?” A voice said, behind you and your mom. 

Everything came rushing back as you recognized this voice as Amanda’s voice. 

You stumbled up, making your mom gasp and jump up from her seat. Amanda placed a hand on your mom’s forearm, gently smiling at her. 

“What do you want from me?!” you yelled, feeling anger seep into your skin as soon as you got up and faced her. 

Amanda looked at you, “We are not here to hurt you, take you away, or anything. Your mom brought you here to give you a safe space to talk about Mikey.”

“I don’t need to talk about SHIT!” You heaved, making your mom look away from her, desperately trying to conceal her own anger. 

“We care about you and we believe that you should try this out, just once. You are free to leave if you don’t want to, okay?” Amanda continued, voice soft. 

It made your blood boil. 

With fists clenched, you glared at your mom, “You did all of this, just to trick me into coming here?”

Your mom continued to look away, refusing to look at you. You seethed. 

“You can’t even look at me or respond to me?” 

Amanda shook her head, “I understand your feeling upset and confused right now, considering how your mom brought you here, but your mom only has the best intentions for you in mind. Please, come inside. You don’t have to share anything with the group or even sit with the group. You can stand in the back with your mom and share whenever you would like.”

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms. 

Softly, your mom said your name, “I never expected myself to be a perfect mom, but was willing to die trying just for you. Both your father and I made a pact to do everything we could in order to make sure you had the best life you could live. As you got older and became your own person, it was hard to watch you make mistakes but we knew when to step in and guide you, and when to step back,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before continuing, “And watching you be with Mikey, to be happy, was a joy in the beginning… until we saw the cracks forming in your relationship. We did everything we could to help you but nothing worked. I understand you loved him… but sweetie… his addiction hurt you too.”

“Mikey never hurt me!!” you yelled, not even feeling the tears rushing out, “He never once laid a hand on me! He never brought me around that stuff! He never wanted me to suffer!”

“He was unstable!” your mom sobbed, doubling over as the dam of emotions broke for her.

Amanda gently gripped her arms, holding her up. She stared at you with a pained but apologetic expression.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone to addiction. I lost my father when I was 16. I was such a daddy’s girl growing up, so losing him was bad but discovering why I lost him only hours after I did made it worse,” Amanda said, filling the air with something other than cries and sobs. 

You stifled your cries, making them come out as jagged breaths and rough sniffs that made your throat tighten. But you stood your ground, standing tall as your mom tried so hard not to collapse to the ground. 

“You’re not… you're not coping well. I don’t want to lose you too.” your mom managed to get out between sobs, voice small and watery.

A sob escaped, shaking your body and making you stumble. 

“You’re not going to lose me, I swear. I’m okay. I just… I just need some time.” 

[rbkzz]

...[*whispered*] wip wednesday?

(context under the cut)

(is this is too long?)

(i wrote a trixie/keris one-shot)

(it is my first written thing)

(i am so nervous!)

(trixie pov)

Penelope Bunce is once again whirling around our room like a frizzy haired tornado.  She has literally picked up and put down every single article of clothing, book, paper, or other object at least twice (except the box under my bed, thank goodness I spelled that).

She’s such a menace – their whole golden trio is.  People say I’m annoying because of my dust, short attention span, and possessive tendencies (well anyone who had to grow up in a lower faedom and pay a tithe to the aes sidhe of all your most precious belongings each year would end up being a possessive brat too! I just don't like to share if I can avoid it is all)... 

…but I think the ‘golden trio’ made up of Snowbuncebelove should get an actual award for being the most annoying, self-absorbed students at Watford.  Nobody else would stand a chance - they’d win that award category every year.

Recently on discord my alpha @noblecorgi was lamenting the lack of lesbian smut in the CO fandom... they then got into an interesting discussion with @roomwithanopenfire about pixies/other fae folk. There was aaaalso a recent conversation about Niamh and their perspective in AWTWB about how the leads of CO had been living in their own bubble at Watford (unreliable narrators the whole lot of 'em!!)

Even though I don't write I loved the ideas that were shared, so I decided to try to smoosh them all together into a Trixie/Keris one-shot lesbian smut fic.

I got really excited about writing and caught up in the experience of it - it was so much fun!! Now I know why people do it! @roomwithanopenfire even beta read for me for which I am soooo grateful ♡♡♡♡

......aaaand then the next day I embarked on an intense perfectionist shame spiral (iykyk) and decided I should hide myself and my ideas away forevermore 🥲

However...... my brain itself is an unreliable narrator 🫠 And my recent therapy homework is to regularly try new things, mess up publicly, and be imperfect in order to rewire my brain to understand that I am still okay even when I am bad at things. Sooo I am posting part of my first fic here as therapy homework and for accountability as well as to continue on my plight of becoming consistently and unabashedly imperfect. Maybe someday I'll find the courage to post it on ao3 😬

I don't know about tags because I'm still so confused and shy about putting myself out here on tumblr 🙊 but I doooo want to say THANK YOU for tags and hellos! I love to read what y'all are up to, even though I usually wait til fics are posted in completion before starting (I'm too impatient to wait for chapter updates 🤪). xoxo!

my first wip wednesday!

[cryptocism]

Yknow, I was keeping an eye on the Too Many Thads AU stuff back before Frequency even started, and I gotta say? Reading the fic as it was updated, knowing in the back of my mind that you had said you planned to have Thad be the only survivor (and maybe one other clone? the memory’s a bit hazy now.)? That really heightened the experience, honestly. It lent the story a very tragic air from the moment we were properly introduced to Eight and Nine, up until that late-game major twist. So kudos on your sharing your scrapped plans improving the reading experience, lol. Got to have your cake and eat it too.

i guess so! i hadn't even thought of that actually

yeah although im gonna try to commit to not posting in-progress projects before they're done, there was a very specific very fun energy that came out of seeing people get excited with each new chapter. the messages comments and reactions got me So Hyped to write.

(and in some cases the feedback was Vital to check me on certain plot holes... the entire Young Justice dinosaur/robot battle was invented because i got a comment asking why YJ didn't go through the portal to save bart after an hour. And i realized i fucking forgot to add the bit of dialogue where Three tells Thad he manually closed the thing so nobody could get through. so i made up a robot dinosaur fight purely so YJ could tell bart that his stupid portal closed and they couldnt get to the lab. anyway it worked out in the end but lmaoooo)

ive also followed along with ongoing projects (mostly webcomics lol) and watching the thing evolve as it goes is like my favourite thing about it. uncanny to be on the other end of it this time but tbh 10/10 would recommend it was very fun

[just-my-fandom]

Rocky Road P3 (JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader)

Season 2 chapter 3

Summary; Popes appointment in Charleston takes an omnious turn over a proposed trade.

Warnings; Cursing, Pope almost gets kidnapped lol, Reader gets shot (yep), lots of time skips.

Note; Back at it again, I haven’t updated since February 2022 and I’m excited to get back down to business. Let’s GO!

Edit; So I’ve realized that the end got cut off, my Tumblr has been glitching to where it’s cutting off the last two sentences of anything I write. Please disregard as I try to fix this!

Tag list; @sinisterspidey @parkerhale13 @thoughts-elsewhere @b-lueberryy @deamus-liv @bubs-world @bibliophilewednesday @sexualparkour @jjpouggues @poguestyle17

You stand with your arms crossed. Head tilted up, your eyes squint against the bright afternoon sun to eye the wire gate in front of you.

“So like,” JJ brings a hand to rub the back of his head, “Are those spikes to keep people out?”

“No,” Kiaras answer is simple, sad, and you glance over to look at her,

“The slave quarters are over there,” Popes head nods across the yard past the gate, and your eyebrows raise in realization, “These spikes were to keep people in,”

Minutes later, and you watch as Pope knocks on the front door once, twice, three times before stepping back, his gaze flickering between you and your two other friends, “Think that was too much?”

“It echoed the entire house, that’s for sure,” JJ flicks his eyebrows up, shrugging, “So they definitely heard it,”

“Maybe nobody’s home,” Kie hopes, Pope reaching forward to knock again, only this time the door jerks open, and you step back as a man steps into view, snarl stuck on his face as he looks between the four teenagers,

The man suddenly smirks, finger raising to point at your friend beside you, “You must be Pope,”

“Um,” Pope pauses, “Are you Mr. Limbrey?”

“Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday,” The man raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning across you, JJ, then Kie before settling back on Pope,

“I’m sorry,” Pope clears his throat, “My car broke down on the way up here,”

“Carburetor blew up in the middle of Nowheresville,” JJ speaks up, so the man’s eyes then stared at JJ, slowly shifting to you so your brows furrowed,

“Yeah she was real upset when you didn’t show up,” The man stares at Pope once again, Kie shrugging a weak shoulder,

“We tried to call, but there’s no number on the invitation,”

“We got here as fast as we could,” You exhale, the man grunting as he, a third time, stares at you, before looking back to Pope,

“She also expected you to come alone,”

“I mean, these are my friends,” Pope glances back as the man rolls his eyes, “They helped find the Royal Merchant too. Y/Ns dad-,”

“Yeah the instructions were explicit,” The man cuts, “Your friends can stay outside,”

Your eyes flick to the man, nodding, silently, “We’ll keep the car running, then,”

. . .

“Look, if Limbrey is legit-,” Kiaras sudden conversation dies down at the weird sight of the man and Ms. Limbrey leading Pope to the back of the house.

You worriedly look at JJ, confused, “Does that look voluntary?”

“That would be a negative,” JJ mutters, Kiara already beginning to open the passenger door,

“Come on,”

“Whoa hold on hold on,” JJ immediately reaches to grab her arm, “They’re going into the alley,”

“Go around back,” You order, JJ throwing the truck into drive before he begins to round the house, your head shaking as you lean forward, searching the front and back window, “I don’t see them,”

“There!” Kies sudden shrieks leads JJ to slam on the breaks, his arm instantly sticking in front of you when you lurch forward, your hand grasping his forearm as you watch Pope climb in, yelling for JJ to get a move on.

It only takes three road turns before the hood of the truck begins to smoke a second time, JJ slamming a hand down onto the wheel when the truck stutters to a stop, looking at Pope next to Kie in a panic, “Now what?”

“Go around!” As everyone climbed out the truck, JJs arm slide around your back to push you forward, immediately beginning to sprint down the road behind Kie and Pope.

“Does he have a gun?” You gasp, JJ tugging on your wrist to pull you down an alley, Pope skidding in an attempt to follow, before you rush out onto the street, nearing getting hit by two people on a motor bike,

“Sorry-!” Your hand raising on reflex automatically halts upon getting a look at the rider, eyes widening as John B grins, very much alive and well in front of you, “John B?”

“Get in!” John B alarms, JJ pushing you into the back seat of the motorbike as John B began to pedal, and soon enough you find yourself on the beach, pushing a boat into the water and finally getting a gasp of air,

. . .

“He’s taken care of you while I’ve been gone, right?”

John Bs words are quiet. Your eyes move away from the warm fire in front of you, shifting your gaze over to your brother who sat next to you, beer bottle in hand.

“Just like he promised,” You hum, nodding with a small smile, “It’s really good to have you back, JB. Therapy’s been shit-,”

“Wait, you’re taking therapy?” John B questions, quietly, eyebrows pinched as his head ducks, “How’re you paying for it?”

“The school offered it after you went missing,” You explain, “Hence why it’s shit. And they’re still trying to put me in the system-,”

“I thought Kies mom would’ve let you,”

“Will you stop interrupting me?” You narrow your eyes, John B raising his hand in surrender, “We tried. But the system isn’t budging. Plus with Kie getting in trouble for hanging out with pogues, I doubt I would’ve gotten far with it,”

“Well I’m here now,” John B drops a hand onto your shoulder, shaking it, lightly, “And we’re not going anywhere,”

Your smile drops almost as soon as it comes. John B is standing on high alert, your brows pinched in confusion as you sit up in your seat, “What is it, John?”

“I heard a car door,”

You pause, eyes skimming the dark yard as JJ made his way next to your chair, “You’re probably just paranoid, JB,”

Silence, before John B is suddenly grabbing your arm, tugging you onto your feet before pushing you towards JJ, “Hide. Now,”

It’s a solid five minutes before you see him. Rafe, Barry close behind. You sit on a tree branch feet above where you once stood, hugging the large trunk for support while feeling JJs hands at your hips, keeping both you and him steady.

“Anything?” Rafes voice startles you, body jerking slightly so JJs grip tightened, leaning forward to press his chest to your back,

“Nah, there ain’t shit in there, bro,” Barry’s grumble is audible as he stomps out of the Chateau, “Nothing,”

“They were obviously just here based off the smoke,” Rafe points to the abandoned fire pit, Barry scoffing out an irritated chuckle,

“Great observation, Boy Scout,”

“They gotta be around here somewhere,” Rafes head shakes, his body turning to face the tree you sat perched on, eyes landing on the engraved memorial on the tree for John B,

“P4L,” Barry snickers, Rafes jaw clenching as he nods, “Yo sisters a pogue for life now, huh, Rafe?”

“Shit!!” Rafes shout is loud, Barry even stepping back once as Rafe raises the gun in his hand, shooting once, twice, at the tree, before Barry rushes forward, grabbing at Rafes arm.

The movement jerks the gun upwards as it continues to shoot, JJs arm jolting out in front of your face as his other fully wraps around your front, nearly shielding you as your hands fly to your head,

“Rafe, chill!” Barry demands, “You’re gonna get our asses busted, man! Let’s bounce. Let’s go!”

The two take off in a sprint. JJ raises his head from your shoulder, eyes immediately gazing down at where your breaths heaved, hand clutching at your thigh- that stained red,

“Holy shit,” JJs hand tugs your arm up, leaning back to fully look at the grazed bullet mark on your thigh, “Holy fuck, John B, she got hit,”

“What?” John B forces himself to climb a branch over to you, your gasp wheezed in a panic as JJs arm tugs you to face him, hand pressing down hard on your thigh,

“She got fucking shot, dude!” JJ lifts his hand momentarily from the wound to lift you off the branch, your arm immediately coming around his shoulders for support as he leapt off the branch, catching you from impact, “I need towels, and water- where the fuck is Kie when we need her?!”

JJ lowers you to sit against the tree, John B rushing inside the Chateau as Sarah stares in a panic, JJs hands raising to your face so one cheek was stained with blood,

“Baby, you’re okay,” He sounds like he’s trying to reassure himself more than you, but the quickness of your breathing worries him to the point of you passing out, “The bullet just grazed you, you’re okay,”

Your head knocks back against the tree with a pinch of your eyes, JJ looking over his shoulder as John B shoves a towel in his face, followed by a roll of tape and bandages while a water bottle remains clutched in his free hand,

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” JJs mutter leads your eyes to open, instantly shutting again at the sheer pain of JJ tightening the bandage around your thigh,

Your hiss is loud, hand grabbing at JJs shoulder so he looks up, eyes softening at your pinched brows and glossy eyes,

“There’s blood, everywhere,” Despite the wound being patched, you still seem in shock, eyes wide on the blood staining your hands and his, which now stained his tank top,

“Let’s get a shower, baby,” JJs arm slides to your back, heaving you up on your feet so your own hand grips the fabric of said tank top, “You’re good, you’re good,”

“Holy shit,” John Bs hand raises to his hair, eyes flicking to Sarah when she squeezes his free arm, assuringly. His eyes flick down to her own bullet wound, heaving a breath, “Fuck,”

The next morning, Kie and Pope park the boat at the dock, Kiaras brows pinched as the group of four rushed down the dock, JJs arm supporting your limped form,

“What’s going on?” Pope stands from his spot, eyes zooming in on your leg, “What the fuck happened?”

“Rafe knows they’re back,” JJ hisses, “Went fucking nuts and shot a gun. Hit Y/N,”

“It just grazed, she’ll be okay,” Sarah reminds, as JJ steps into the boat, first, arms reaching out to you to help you step in,

“We’ve gotta go, there’s no telling when he’ll be back,” John B rushes, Kiara nodding before moving back to the boats wheel.

. . .

“Look, if Rafe and Barry know, it’s only a matter of time,”

You settle yourself on a rock perched, eyes watching as Kie, Sarah and Pope took seats, while JJ and John B continued to stand.

“I told you,” JJ scoffs, “We should’ve gone south, man,” JJ jabs a finger towards John B, “Why does no one ever listen?”

“I get it! I get it, I understand,” John B tries, JJ shaking his head as he spins, gesturing a hand out to you,

“Obviously not! Not only did you let Rafe shoot Sarah, but he shot your sister! You better be fucking glad that bullet grazed her!”

“J,” You murmur, raising your own hand so he heaves a sigh, taking your hand while standing beside you, refusing to sit,

“I know my dad,” Sarah speaks up, “He’s going to have to choose between me and Rafe, he’ll choose me. I just need two hours,”

JJ raises his arm and let’s it drop to his side as Sarah moves towards the boat, your eyes watching, silently, as she leaves without another word.

“J, sit down,” You murmur, tugging at his fingers, so he finally sunk down next to you, head fallen forward with a deep sigh.

. . .

“So, how’d it go?”

As John B helped Sarah off the boat, JJ peeled the old bandaged from your thigh. Your small hiss leads him to whisper an apology, taking the roll of fresh bandages from Kie to unravel,

“You were right,” Sarah sighs, glancing over her shoulder where JJ tucked the bandages over one another, before rolling down your shorts, taking your hands to stand you up, “It didn’t work,”

“Welp, then that settles it, guys,” JJ snips, looking over his own shoulder to narrow his eyes at her, “Now y’all need to load up in the paddy wagon and get the heck out of Dodge right now,”

“Yeah, you’ll need the supplies,” Pope nods, “Then y’all will need to split as soon as possible,”

“Guys I think it’s too late,” Kie speaks, your eyes shifting to the side of the water, squinting at three police boats,

“They followed you here?”

“We gotta go,” JJ rushes, throwing your arm over his shoulders while his own loops at your waist, beginning to pull you after John B, who did the same with Sarah, “Go!”

“Oh my gosh,” You heave, looking over your shoulder in a panic, “We won’t get far- with two injured people-,”

“I’ve got you,” JJ breathes, following your eyesight to a man trailing behind with a gun, “We’re good,”

The group ducks behind a large tree, your body turning to press your back to it, eyes staring at two cop cars skidding to a stop in the sand, “Guys,”

“What do we do?”

“We’re not getting out of this,” JJ heaves, your eyes watching him pull something- his gun- from his pocket, “We gotta make a stand,”

“J, no,” Your hand grasps his shirt, fisting it, “No, that’s not the answer,”

John B rushes to grab JJs wrist, grasping the gun with his free to toss it at your feet, head shaking, “Listen to her,”

JJ looks at you, watching your foot shuffle to throw dirt over the gun, covering it, JJ side stepping halfway in front of you as Shoupe and several officers rushed forward, all heading for John B.

“No no no- stop!”

. . .

“They’re gonna kill him in there,” You tug your cardigan over your front, sighing. Your eyes glance across the outside of the courthouse, sighing as JJs fingers grasped your upper arm, keeping you next to him.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you and your family,” You hear a man, glancing over to see him speaking with Ward, “Thank God for the system,”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” You spit without thinking, JJs fingers tightening in warning as the two men looked over, “Of course you think the system worked because it was made to protect people like you,”

“He’ll have his day in court, a jury will decide,”

“He shouldn’t even be in court!” You pull your arm free, pointing to Ward, “You should, because you’re a murderer!”

“I know you’re upset,” Ward speaks, your eyebrows flicking up, “I know he’s got you all fooled, about this, about your father,”

“You know what really happened to my father, because you were there!” You step forward, JJ instantly sliding in front of you to grasp your arms, Shoupe behind you,

“No, no, get the fuck off her,” JJ jabs a finger to Shoupe, “Why don’t you go arrest a Kook for a change, huh?”

“You wanna get arrested? Get out! You need to go,”

“You’re a piece of shit Ward,” You hiss, “No wonder your daughters with us,”

“Okay, baby, you gotta stop,” JJ grasps your shoulders, spinning you around so Kie took your hand, “Let’s go,”

. . .

“I’m gonna testify under oath,”

Your eyes can barely stay open at this point. Curled on the couch on the patio, your halflidded eyes watch Sarah pace, “I was there! I just need to get in contact with my sister,”

“Sister?” JJ grumbles, your shrug light as his fingers trail across your bare legs.

“Wheeze was the only one who knows Rafe wasn’t home that day!”

“Wheeze?” JJ questions,

“I don’t know what else to do!” Sarah panics, “I got us into this mess, I have to get us out!”

“She’s right about one thing, we have to think of something,” JJ sits up, hand now grasping your calf,

“And do what? Kidnap Shoupe?”

“That’s not actually the worst idea, Kie,”

“It’s not?” “No!”

“That’s actually the worst idea ever,” Pope cuts, JJ jabbing a finger towards him,

“Okay, Pope, we’ve been doing everything your way, and how has that been going?”

“Okay so what’s your plan?” Pope stands, now nearly hovering over both you and JJ, “You’re gonna storm a jail, guns-a-blazing?”

“All I’m saying is that they have our boy,” JJ stands up, you sitting up to grab his wrist, warning him, “And we’re just gonna sit on our asses? No, we’re gonna do something about it!”

“We are not storming a jail. That’s not happening,”

“That’s fine man,” JJ mutters, “Sit in your comfy chair. Do nothing. I’m gonna see what I can do. Make something happen, even if I have to do it myself,”

“JJ,” You stand up, hand still ahold of his wrist, “Come with me,”

JJ fixes his hat onto his head, jaw rolling as he fixes your grasp to take his fingers, letting you pull him into the rain outside the patio. He allows you to drag him to the hammocks, your hand running through your now wet hair as you look up at him,

“JJ, we can’t do this again,”

“I’m trying to save him, Y/N,” JJs brows pinch, hair sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you, “Do you not want that?”

“Of course I do, but not in a wreckless way!” You speak loudly over the rain, hands now grasping his shirt at his sides, “I need you to think this through. Last time something like this happened, we got in a fight and nearly broke up. I’m not watching you do something like this again, okay?”

His head tilts back to look up, wet hair falling back as his chest heaves in a deep sigh. Your hands raise to his jaw, tilting his head down to you, eyes instantly closing when your lips press to his, his own hands pressing to your face.

“Are you calm?” You barely pull back, him instantly pulling you back against him, his grasp lightening as he leans back, eyes flicking between yours.

“I’m going to think of something,” You blink, JJ pressing a kiss to your wet forehead before releasing you, stepping towards his dirt bike.

“I love you,” You call, waiting for him to look at you, “I really do,”

“I love you too,” He breathes, fixing his hat, “Stay safe,”

. . .

“That’s a lot of wax on your board. Put too much wax, it’s gonna be slippery,”

“Are you telling me how to wax my board?”

“I’m just saying,” Pope raises his hands as JJ raises an eyebrow, “That’s a lot of wax,”

“Guys, chill out, please,” You heave, JJ looking at you upon a distanced honk,

“You hear that?”

You look over, sitting up straight in your chair to see the Twinkie driving up, your smile wide as you push to stand to your feet, “Nuh-uh,”

“Yuh-huh!” Your brother grins as he slams the door to the van, running up to embrace you, “Guess whose out of the clink boy!”

“Uh, they dropped the charges,” John B sheepishly grins, JJ raising his brows,

“So all that work, I did for nothing,”

“Oh, the most elaborate escape plan of all time?” Pope jokes, John B looking around in confusion,

“Wait, where’s Sarah?” At everyone’s pause, he looks at you, “Where is Sarah?”

“She went to see Wheezie last night,” Kie speaks, “She hasn’t come back,”

. . .

“So,”

You lift your head from the hammock you laid on, JJ stretched out beside you, opposite end, hand messing with the anklet on your foot, “He’s out, huh?”

“Yeah, he is,” You breathe, foot jerking when JJ tickles the bottom, your giggle light so he smiles,

“There she is,” He murmurs, grasping your ankle to tug on it, “C’mere,”

You sit up, shifting to turn around without rocking the hammock too much to knock you off, laying tucked against JJs side as his arm hooks around your shoulders.

“What’re you thinkin’ ‘bout, pretty girl?” JJs lips press to your forehead, resting there when you exhale through your nose,

“How we can’t seem to catch a break,” You murmur, hand twisting his t-shirt mindlessly, “Ever since Dad went missing, we’ve just been running. And now that Limberys involved it doesn’t seem to be getting any better,”

“We’re gonna get a break soon,” JJ speaks, tilting his head to rest overtop of yours, “And I mean hey, when’s the last time we sat in this hammock, hm?”

“Yeah, I have missed this,” You slide your arm across his chest, before he twists, facing you. Your hand reaches up to comb his blonde hair from his face, the back of your hand brushing across his cheek. “I love you, JJ,”

JJ hums, head leaning forward to kiss your lips, hand reaching for the back of your head, “I love you, too, baby,” A peck, then two, and you giggle as he continues, moving to kiss your cheek, “So so so much,”

“J!” You cackle, JJ rolling to hover above you, the hammock rocking against his movements, “J, we are gonna fall if you don’t quit,”

“You’re just too irresistible, baby,” JJ leans down, your hands cupping his neck to hold him still, “Can’t get enough of you,”

You allow his teeth to dig into your bottom lip, hand sliding up your flowy shirt to graze your rib cage, inching to your chest,

“Guys!” Kies shout startles you to lean back, looking over in alarm as JJ sits up with his hands at your hips, “We gotta go, Wards at the dock.”

[honeybee-bard]

Snippet Sunday

Nobody tagged me but I'm doing it anyways because I've written about 30k words of this fic in the last like five days and I'm excited to get as much of it out there as I can. The first few chapters are already up and can be found here if you're interested!

You approach Shadowheart before you go back to Astarion. What you’re about to do is going to get you teased terribly, but it feels worth it, given the situation at hand. “Shadowheart, please don’t question it right now, but do you have any healing scrolls?” You ask her nervously. “I do have some on hand, just in case, but I’ve barely cast anything today. I can just heal you now, come here,” she insists, beckoning you to come sit with her. You stay where you are, chewing at your bottom lip. “No, I’m fine right now, I just…may need healing later, is all,” you say, hoping she gets the hint. She does not. “I’ll be here later, too. Why would you need a scroll? Unless you’re planning to get hurt?” She seems genuinely confused, and perhaps a bit concerned. “No, I’m not - well. Not exactly? Maybe.” Your eyes dart over to Astarion, and her eyes go wide. She breaks into a grin. “Oh, Wyn, you can’t expect me not to ask any questions,” she says with a smirk. You sigh and grab the bottle of red wine you’d had in your pack, stashed away in case an occasion arose. “I don’t expect you not to ask any questions,” you say, “but I will give you this in exchange for saving them until morning.” “It’s a deal,” she agrees, taking the bottle as she hands you a scroll. “But do still come to me if you need more than just the scroll, hmm? And do try not to let it get to a point of needing a resurrection scroll - I have one, but I’d prefer to save it for a real emergency.” “Thank you, Shadowheart, truly.” You mean it. She’s helping you - helping Astarion - more than she probably realizes. “I really am the best, aren’t I,” she hums, already opening the wine.

I felt like Wynlana (Tav) needed a friend, and as I write I find Shadowheart becoming that friend. This is from what is currently labeled as chapter 11 so it won't be up for a while, but I'm planning to update the fic at least once a week, likely on Wednesdays, so feel free to subscribe on AO3!

I tag @marlowethebard, and anyone else who wants to do it!

[lavendermoonlitskies]

Life updates that nobody asked for <3

Hi. So my life has been kind of hectic lately and it has been really hard finding comfort in anything, but I think I might slowly be coming out of that stage. I posted a little while ago that my dad might have cancer for the second time in his life and I was kind of falling apart at the thought of it, and now it has been confirmed that it is, in fact, cancer.

The good news is it’s localized, which means that in its current state, it’s a small tumor and it hasn’t spread, so all hope has not been lost, which is what I think I was really afraid of. Someone told me that the hardest part is waiting for test results and not having any idea what the future looks like, and I think that’s true because even though it was bad news, we are not experiencing the worst case scenario at this point. That could be set to change, but I would drive myself insane if I keep thinking about it like that, so I’ll try not to. He has a treatment plan, and that’s gonna go on for another couple months before they reassess and figure out where to go from there. I still have hope that it will go away, and I think it’s really important for me to hang onto that for my own sanity.

With everything going on, with all the crippling anxiety that goes along with it, I still have the urge to create. I’m not the best writer, I’m sure my work at this point is littered with mistakes and it’s clear to any professional that I am most certainly not, well, a professional. I know my writing hasn’t reached that much of an audience and I am so okay with that, but it brings me joy. I’ve always had little stories floating around in my head and this last year has been the first time in a while I’ve actually sat down and put it to paper (or perhaps more accurately to a google doc that’s never going to be printed on actual paper).

I know that the gap between the time I posted the first chapter of The Road Less Traveled (GO fic) and whenever I’m going to finally update it again keeps getting larger, but it crossed my mind again today and I remembered all my plans for it, and even though things in my real life look bleak right now, I almost felt excited for just a moment. It’s going to be slow, but I want to keep this story going, so I’m just going to have to be patient with myself.

In addition to that, I’ve been reading a lot of original novels lately and I feel inspired. I’ve never written anything that even comes close to a full-length novel, but I have this concept and I think it’s a good one. I’ve created characters, plotted stuff out, and even written a scene or two, so I guess I’ll just have to see where it goes. I think that this has kind of always been something I’ve wanted to do in the back of my mind, and with where I am in life right now maybe it’s as good a time as ever to try something new just because. I’ve let depression and anxiety consume me before, so even though this is a very real and very scary situation that could go in a lot of different directions, I don’t think I want to let myself do that this time.

November is coming up (sort of), and I know that that’s a really important month for writers, so I’m sort of getting myself ready for that. People are organizing NaNoWriMo alternatives, so I might jump in on one of those (side note: fuck the NaNoWriMo people for claiming that denouncing the use of AI in creative spaces is “ableist.” As a disabled person, that is a deeply insulting misuse of a word that is meant to shed light on the real issues disabled people face every day). I am an amateur, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, but maybe there’s something beautiful in someone who doesn’t have any “credentials” as a writer/artist/etc. just creating something because they want to.

[yennefer-of-vengerbergs]

Rant under the cut, just because i need to get this out of my system 😖Feel free to ignore if you want.

I'm tired. I've tried so much to keep a positive attitude about my writing, trying to improve on my own, trying to appreciate what little notes on here and hits on ao3 I got, but I'm so tired of spending so days or weeks writing and editing something only for it to ultimately flop and be ignored. It's why I took a break from it. But then I decided to start writing again, even trying my hand at a longfic. I was so genuinely excited to start writing it and actually finish and post the first chapter for it. I was so damn hopeful that maybe this time, I'd hear something about it from someone. And it just...fizzled out. No comments. Barely any hits. I appreciate the lone like on here and the single bookmark it got on ao3, but I still feel like shit. It's so discouraging to spend time and effort on something, only for it to - as far as I can tell - go ignored. I have no idea what I'm doing wrong here. Is my writing that bad? Am I just posting at the wrong times? I've tried mornings, I've tried afternoons, early evenings, late nights, nothing works, it's always the same, no feedback, no comments, maybe some hits and likes, but other than that, it just feels like I'm throwing these fics into the void. Don't get me wrong, I'm not expecting to be showered in praise for everything I write by everyone who sees it even in passing, I'm perfectly aware that my writing isn't the best out there, but I'd like to think it's not THAT bad. Still, it goes completely ignored most of the times. I can accept that for my oneshots, they weren't as developed, what with them having a named character, with a specific background and people just won't be familiar with whatever went through my mind for them. But that first chapter of my longfic? I was genuinely proud of it. I have so many ideas for that fic that I wanted to share and talk about. I do want to write down all the stuff I came up with for my oc, I want my writing to improve, I want to develop my oc as much as possible and I want a whole lot more for this fic than for it to just be as dead as it is at the moment. I know it's only the first chapter, and that maybe it can still change if I continue to update it, but I can't help but feel discouraged and sad because of how things started off for it (and just how it's always been for my writing). How am I even supposed to improve anything, if nobody comments or gives any feedback? How am I supposed to know if anyone even likes the ideas I have? And how the hell am I supposed to know if it's even worth writing and sharing it in the first place, if I can't even know if anyone is actually reading it? It's bad enough I have an absolutely thankless job where nobody bothers to say something as basic as good job to me, no they just throw more work towards me, but to start to feel that same (or at least similar) way about something that's a hobby? That's supposed to be my moment of escapism? It sucks. It sucks and I hate it and I don't even know what to do anymore. I just know that I don't like this lack of interaction at all and it makes me feel like shit and today was the worst for it (it's genuinely been on my mind all day and even had me tearing up on and off since I saw the lack of notes and barely any hits and the no comments this morning, that's how bad it's gotten). I honestly wish it didn't affect me this much, but it does.

I don't know. Maybe I should just lower my expectations more than they already were. Maybe I should just quit writing altogether. Or at least stop posting and just keep it for myself. In any case, it's a horrible feeling.

😞

[finnattack26]

Heya so i’m making this post to kinda make my boundaries clear. I didn’t think my fanfic would be getting as popular as it did lmao but i’m very thankful it has and for all the support I’ve received!

Any fan art of my characters is completely fine as long as nobody claims my characters as their own! I’m still not used to Tumblr so if anyone could give me advice on how to kinda start a tag list thing for fanart I’d appreciate it lol. I did try and google but…I’m even more confused than when I started.

I have no idea if this will actually be a thing like but feel free to make one shots, AU’s or anything like that for the Solstice Universe, just make sure to credit my account and the fanfic.

Regarding the weird chapter lengths i’m still trying to find my footing in regard to the pacing of the story. Chapters will eventually be edited and maybe even combined to lengthen them a little. I have the storyline mostly planned out, pacing is just a nightmare for me 😂

I want to thank everyone again for all of the support for this project and i’m excited to show more of my characters’ personalities!

If anyone has any better ideas for the name of the fanfic please give me ideas because ‘Hell Of A Ride’ is not going to stick :’)

My own artwork is crap but I’ll try and get a full body done of each animatronic so everyone can use that for reference when creating their own art!

I am continuing my studies next month so updates may be a bit all over the place while I figure out a schedule. I have one wrote down but depending on the amount of work I have to do that month, I may have to delay a couple updates.

Now here’s a little teaser for the next chapter:

[firstsprinces]

Thank you @anincompletelist for the tag this week! I can't wait for more of the dom!Henry/Alex you've got us begging for! I've been purposely saving the rest of bridesmaids so I can read it all in one go, and partially because I'm not ready to say goodbye to them yet!

We’re so close to this WIP finally being posted! This may be the last preview you'll get from this chapter. Below the cut, you'll also get a bonus share of this fic's title.

The radio announcer’s voice comes back in, breaking up in between his words as the signal Henry’s found seems to weaken, “if you are planning any kind of travel for this weekend, the Deputy Sheriff advises everyone to be cautious as the ‘Boxcar Bandit’ moves his way closer to our city. Policemen have begun to post these signs in businesses as well as passing around a sketch of what this twisted man may look like from an eyewitness who described him after spotting a suspicious-looking person rummaging through his pigs' feeding troughs late at night.” At the mention of the wanted poster, Henry twists around to reach into the pocket of his coat where he’d placed the paper the policeman had given him at the train station. He quickly unfolds it in excitement because he’ll finally have an idea about what the notorious outlaw may look like. When he opens the paper’s final fold, his eyes are met with the large bold letters spelling out ‘WANTED’ with a picture of a man wearing a black cowboy hat and a kerchief that covers everything but his eyes. Dark brows are furrowed on top of filled-in eyes, making him look deranged. Henry studies the way the man’s expression has been drawn because how could a witness describe the angry look in his eyes if he never approached him, especially if his face is covered and it had been dark outside? Henry wonders if this sketch will also be printed in the Western Observer, or if it already has been included in today’s edition. Surely, they must have because this is the biggest news story to hit the city since the railroad workers’ strike during the last war. Nobody’s going to bother with reading Henry’s column about the church’s fundraiser and bake sale when they can read the exhilarating update about the outlaw from the Southwest. He doesn’t blame anyone for wanting to skip his piece because it doesn’t compare to the increased fear about this criminal that could be heading their way. Henry doesn’t want to be a columnist anyway, but at the time it had been the only job available for the paper once he’d been granted entry into American territory. One day he hopes that he’ll be able to impress his boss enough so he can become a featured journalist and write and report on more newsworthy material that giving his short personal thoughts on things happening in the city or the surrounding farmlands. He doesn’t necessarily wish to be a reporter on politics and international affairs – partly because he has come to America from a different country and he will not tarnish his homeland just to please other people. He wants to travel and write about all the places he’s been, or maybe become an investigative journalist – just something with a sense of adventure.

Here’s the bonus share of the inspiration board with the fic’s title! I’m aiming for this week, or Monday at the latest to start!! If you'd like to be tagged when I publish his to AO3, let me know!

I know you've been tagged alreadt @priincebutt but you're also someone who always tags me and I also always appreciate when you do! This tag is always open and I will be checking in with everyone's posts shortly!

[paper-bag-with-holes]

The End.

I don’t like to whine in public because it doesn’t bring joy around in a dark enough world, but I’ve had so much on the heart that I need to get it out of my system. I’ve been working on my comic Trifolium for 2 years now, and am reaching the end. Usually ending a webcomic means being freed and is something to be celebrated, but not this time. For my previous comics, I’ve known the joy of sharing this experience with readers who were excited to see the conclusion but were also a bit sad to know it was ending. It was the end of a journey we shared together. But for Trifolium, it isn’t. There is no one to be excited about the conclusion, to share the end of the adventure with. No one has been reading this comic after all (except for a few of my close friends). I have noticed it quickly, no one commented on the updates (except for my friends), no reaction on the illustrations because they didn’t know the characters, had no interest in them. I continued until I finished Chapter 4 and Interlude 5, after that I gave up on sharing my comic because I knew that no one was interested in reading it. I continued to draw it thanks to my friends’ support, but considered it something I was doing only for myself, so I needn’t upload it online. And for months, still no one was reading my comic, so I never bothered translating the text of the last chapters in english. Why should I waste time on this if no one is gonna read it? But then, as I am arriving at the end, working on the extra comic pages, I realized that the end of this comic also means its death. You know how nowadays, on social networks, a drawing has a lifespan of 24h. It might not be true for everyone, but for me it pretty much is. After 24h, the number of likes/retweets doesn’t change anymore, which means that no one is seeing it after that. The followers who have missed it have their timeline filled with other contents, the others will never cross the drawing through a retweet ever again. For my comic, the thing is people will know it exists as long as I post updates of the process (when I’m done with the sketching, inking, illustration) and maybe feel like reading it, but once it’s completed and I no longer draw and post anything for it, people will forget about it. And no one else will get the chance to find it and read it. It will be as good as dead. With the amount of new media coming out everyday, no one will dig in the site of a non-popular nobody a mere unknown webcomic that no one has ever recommended. So I asked on Twitter and Tumblr why my followers (people who supposedly like my art?) didn’t read my comic, with the hope that it might be something I could fix (like the not-phone-friendly format ? but in the end, that wasn’t mentionned as a problem…). Worse… I got people saying my comic is good, so the problem doesn’t come from it… Then WHY has no one been interested in reading it? If you tell me it’s good but no one is interested in reading it, it only got me more frustrated. I’d have prefered they say that the story is bad, at least I’d have understood why no one wants to read it. To me, it means that it wasn’t interesting enough to make people want to read it. I must be at fault in some way, because you can’t just say I had NO LUCK ??? Most replies were saying that they wanted to read it later, when they have time or stop forgetting. It’s not that I don’t believe them when they say this, but deep down, you know very well that you will forget again (because I do). And once I stop posting about it,  I’m pretty sure they’ll never think about it ever again. And if they do, will they really feel like reading a webcomic made by an amateur? When reading a published comic would at least guarantee some quality and possibly be less of a waste of time, in an era in which we don’t get much free time and have so much to read, watch or play.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not blaming anyone in particular, since “no one reading” means that it’s the sum of the personal reasons of “everyone” for not feeling like reading it. I think it’s not anyone’s fault, many friends I’ve been crying to just told me that’s how the internet is now. It can’t be helped. It’s not 2012 anymore, it was probably a mistake to not think about it. But can’t I also have the right to be sad about it for all the reasons I’ve written above? I’ve spent 2 years on a project that is just going to die literally. That’d why, the end of this comic is particularly painful, to the point of crying a few nights and days. This journey has been very lonely. And if by miracle, anyone comes across my comic and finds it interesting enough to read it, they’ll most likely not comment on it or take the time to write me a message if they enjoyed it. It’s an era in which there is so much “contents” that we just merely have the time to move to the next one. It feels like the artist behind it no longer matters (especially on sites like webtoon, where the readers would call me “author”…) and is only a machine. I guess drawing webcomics is over for me. I had planned a new project, but I think it’ll be wiser not to do it. I’m thinking of using the free time I’m getting back to find a sport I like, there are 20 kg I’d love to lose. 

[izloveshorses]

I'm in a bit of an in-between period rn of what i'm focusing on writing, so.... do you guys have any preferences what i work on updating next? (no promises, i cannot write on command/ i do not control what daydream we hyperfixate on etc etc but i can at least Work On what you guys vote for) so peruse the list of drafts here, some published, some not quite ready yet, and pick something that sounds intriguing.

propaganda under the cut if you want something a little more descriptive! otherwise you're welcome to ask questions/ leave your reasons in the replies :)

sleep on the floor: angsty road trip, modern au, etc. i made a whole gifset for this and a pretty banger playlist if i do say so myself.

notting hill au: anya is a famous movie star, dmitry is a nobody bookstore owner, and they cross paths randomly one day when anya is hiding from paparazzi, they hit it off right away, but dating is hard. just one chapter is up so far. i gotta decide on something that happens in the film i was thinking about changing but we could write some other things in the meantime

art heist au: unpublished! anya works at a distinguished gallery, a painting from her late parents' collection they thought had been lost in a tragic fire just recently sprung up into the public eye again, but it's being auctioned off soon and anya isn't happy about it, since she thinks it contains the secrets of what really happened to her family. dmitry visits the gallery in attempts to steal it, but she catches him in the act and they decide to strike up a deal-- if he helps her forge a copy, she'll let him have the original to sell once she does more research and sees if it actually ~contains the secrets~ she's looking for. it's about the intrigue, the drama, the mystery, the reluctant alliance turned romance. good stuff. as long as i can figure out a plot structure aslhkdf

post breakup/get back together fic: unpublished. slightly inspired by the song 'if the world was ending,' but instead of an earth quake it's a snow storm and talk of the world ending with the new year. set during new years eve, anya visits him for the first time since they broke up a year ago and Talk about things that happened, interwoven with some flashbacks of their relationship from beginning to end. i also made another banger playlist for this guy.

equestrian au: dmitry and vlad are show jumping trainers down on their luck, anya is the new stablehand dmitry finds sleeping in the stall with her ugly horse (pooka <3). but when vlad decides her hidden talent is worth sculpting into a refined show jumping career, the three of them team up to make it to the FEI world cup in Paris, where Marie Feodorovna will be watching and contributing to the winning purse. maybe anya will find the home love family she's looking for idk.

crazy rich asians au: inspired by the movie, but without the hazing and the drama and the angst, so it's mostly just a meet the parents au of a sort with some nice and fluffy established dimya. anya's sister is getting married and she wants to use the event as a way to introduce dmitry, her long time bf, to the family. dmitry is excited about potentially asking for the Family Ring (👀) and leaving new york for the first time to visit the homeland (would the wedding be in russia? or would they get married in the french riviera or something a bit warmer?) until he figures out just how wealthy anya's family is. he knew she came from wealth, but not quite to this extent, and gets a little insecure about it. shenanigans ensue.