#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

[lucagray813]

Shadow - Chapter 6

Title: Party Time

Rating: T

Word Count: ~10,000

Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Minor Characters: MK, DBK, PIF

Relationships: Macaque/Wukong

Minor Relationships: Wukong & MK, DBK/PIF

Summary: Old man Monkey King is not the life of the party that he used to be but a couple of drinks with some friends sounds just his speed. Turns out he's an exceptionally clingy drunk though.

Additional Tags: Developing Relationship, Acquired Disability, Slice of Life, DBK is called Niú, PIF is called Gōngzhǔ

CW: Anxiety, alcohol, drunken shenanigans, suggestive themes, brief mentions of sex, mentions of pee (not related to the mentions of sex 😅)

Link to AO3 Version

Chapter Navigation: First | Prev | Next

----

It wasn't often that MK visited the island anymore - maybe once a month, if that. But that was fine - he was a busy guy! Wukong didn't expect him to drop everything just to come say hi. He always kept in touch though - Mei still made sure to keep immaculate digital records of his many endeavours, heroic or otherwise - and MK always sent him on any particularly interesting or funny pictures or videos.

He messaged him just about every week, and called every once in a while, so it's not like he was a stranger but Wukong couldn't deny he had been near vibrating with excitement since MK had asked to come spend some one-on-one time with him on the island. Nobody else - just the two of them, like old times.

With Macaque around Wukong wasn't allowed to just live like a slob, although he would vehemently argue he'd never been that messy to begin with, but he did tend to be a lot more lax with appearances when it was just the two of them on the island. But with MK coming he broke out his formal Monkey King attire, made sure his glamours were in place, and that the house was spotless, ignoring Macaque's teasing all the while.

While there was certainly a thing or two that Wukong would always be able to teach MK, he really was his mentor in name only these days. They would definitely spar but it would be a friendly match rather than a training exercise. After that they would probably just explore the island and eat fruit as MK updated him on his life in person.

And he was right, everything had gone exactly as he'd hoped - MK gave him a real run for his money showing him what he was capable of, they then had some fun with a load of the monkeys who all wanted to say hello, and finally they had managed to shake off all of them to take a tour of the island while they chatted.

It had been a near perfect day and Wukong wasn't sure he'd been totally successful at hiding how giddy he was to have MK here. It ended with them both high up on Flower Fruit Mountain watching the sunset and that was when things took an unexpected turn.

MK looked a little guilty as he suddenly said, "Hey, so I've got something to confess."

Somewhat wary, he had responded, "What is it, bud?"

"I, er, sort of had an ulterior motive for asking to see you today. It's nothing bad! I promise! I just have sort of a big favour to ask."

While somewhat put out that MK hadn't just come here to hang out he couldn't deny that he was happy there were still things that he could apparently do to help him, "Sure. Lay it on me."

"Ok, so it's been a really nuts year, right? We had that big fight with the Capra Demon, we had that huge international team up to take down the Parasol Corporation, Sandy became a dad! Like, so much has happened! We met so many people, made so many friends that have helped us out and a few of us were thinking that we've earned ourselves the right to get together, cut loose and celebrate our successes!"

Oh, they absolutely had. MK had a list of achievements almost as long as his list of allies - he'd been part of some insane hero business just these past few months alone and he'd teamed up with some incredible people to come out on top. Wukong couldn't be prouder of him.

He grinned, "So, you're throwing a party?"

Now, he knew he wasn't the most sociable person in the world but for MK he'd happily put in an appearance just about anywhere. Hardly what he'd even call a favour.

MK oddly still looked a little nervous, but his response was enthusiastic, "We're throwing a party!"

"Good on you, kid. You deserve it. You just tell me where and when and I'll be there."

"Ah, well, you see, that's where this teeny, tiny favour I have comes in. So there's a lot of people to invite, right? From all over the world and, er, well, we were sort of hoping we could maybe have it here...?"

He felt himself pale slightly, "Here...?"

MK rallied, "Yeah! Not only is it big enough to accommodate everyone but it's neutral ground! Er, it be the case that maybe one or two of our friends have some complicated, long standing issues with each other's families and..." he coughed and quietly muttered, "the law." Before loudly continuing, "That would cross off a lot of potential locations and anyone else with this much space have some really strict rules and etiquette we'd have to follow so that strikes out Mei and Red Son's homes."

Oh no.

"And! And! Obviously, the island is amazing! The weather is amazing, the sights are incredible, and the food is to die for! Everyone would love to come here! For most of them it would be, like, a once in a lifetime event! How many people can say they've been to the Flower Fruit Mountain? Everyone's super excited about it!"

Oh no.

"I mean, obviously, I haven't told everyone it's a go! But once it got suggested everyone was really excited for it so I said I would ask you! We've started thinking about it though - we figured we could have a beach party and anyone that wants to stay the night can camp down there! And I know access to the cave for people you don't know is a no-go so don't worry about that. We wouldn't want to mess up your place anyway. Not that we won't tidy up after ourselves but, uh, yeah! So what do you think?"

His face was so hopeful and Wukong did his best to try and shake off the dread that was creeping up his spine, "That, er, sounds great! Couple quick questions though - how many people are we talking here?"

MK only looked more hopeful at the lack of an immediate no and excitedly explained, "A hundred? A hundred and fifty? Two hundred at absolutely max! You and Mac can obviously invite people too! We figured you might want to invite DBK, PIF and the Tailor Trio as well! And maybe Bǎi Hé if she's allowed!"

He did his best not to let his discomfort show, "How thoughtful... That's a lot of people though. That's the kind of event you need someone running..."

Immediately MK declared, "Don't you worry, all we need is your permission and we'll handle everything from catering to accommodation! You won't need to lift a finger before, during or after! And, of course, we'll be super considerate of the monkeys and the rest of the wildlife! You know I wouldn't ever let any harm come to the island!"

Wukong didn't doubt that but the very idea of the island having one stranger on it, let alone hundreds was enough to make him feel queasy. And while he was weak in the face of MK's hopeful pleading, he still couldn't bring himself to just outright say yes.

"It all sounds great, bud! Really great! And trust me if it was just me, it would be a definite yes! But, unfortunately it's not! And I don't think this is going to fly with Macaque."

MK's wide grin at his initial positivity fell to a confused frown, "Really? How come?"

"Well, there's a few reasons but first and foremost he's super protective of the island!"

MK perked up, "That's why we're going to have a full proof plan to make sure no harm comes to it! Red Son was even talking about cordoning off the area of the beach we use with seals! Which I hear you're all about these days! You and Mac can check them over to make sure you're happy with them!"

Shit.

"That's some good thinking! But that's only half the problem. You see, Macaque isn't really a people person, or a party person for that matter - even if you could convince him nothing will go wrong he might just say no anyway because he's a big grump."

Macaque was going to kill him. He was surprised that shadows weren't already trying to skewer him for trying to make him the scapegoat.

MK looked at him doubtfully, "Macaque? We're talking about the same guy, right? Didn't he help PIF with that fancy ball or whatever a couple months back?"

Macaque had in fact helped Gōngzhǔ plan and host a rather formal dinner, reminiscent of the networking and displays of prestige from days of old, a little while back. He'd had a lot of fun with it as well - mostly because he was basically there to unsettle anyone Gōngzhǔ and Niú didn't like - but that sort of thing was all theatrics and performance and Macaque loved it.

Either way it did fly in the face of his assertion that Macaque didn't do people or parties. And he couldn't help but silently curse him for it. That was probably why he hadn't intervened yet - he was just watching Wukong struggle before he crashed and burned.

"Well, I mean, I somehow doubt you're throwing the same type of party, that's definitely a factor... But either way that happened far from home. It's different when it's on your turf. Look, I probably shouldn't say this but... this is his safe place, y'know? This is where he can let his guard down and not have to worry about something going wrong. Having strangers here, especially that many... I think it would just really stress him out."

MK scratched at the back of his neck, looking unsure, "I never really thought about it like that. I guess that makes sense? And I don't want to stress him out for no good reason..."

Instead of feeling victorious, MK's obvious disappointment was making him feel like a total heel. But god did he not want this party to happen. Torn, he tried to tackle the immediate problem of a glum MK.

He threw an arm over his shoulder, "Hey, don't look so blue. Let me talk to him about it. Maybe I'm being a little too overprotective here - I just don't want him playing tough guy about it is all. But maybe he'll be less worried about it than I think he will."

MK perked up slightly, "Is he on the island just now? Why don't we call him? We can talk through any worries he has together and then I can take them back to the drawing board." He stepped away from Wukong, hands coming up to cup around his mouth to do just that and panicked Wukong all but tackled him.

Hanging off his shoulders he quickly made up an excuse, "No, no, no! He's, er, ah! He's in a super bad mood today! Didn't sleep well last night, y'know? Just leave it to me. I'll talk to him about it."

MK looked sympathetic and easily accepted his excuse with a, "Oh, ok..." But never one to stay down for long he declared with determination, "In the meantime, I'll put together exactly what we have planned for him to look at! Tell him that we'll think of everything! We'll do whatever it takes to get him on board!"

Wukong patted his shoulder, "Good plan, MK! And... thanks. That means a lot. To both of us."

MK smiled at him briefly before a somewhat guilty expression came over him, "Man, I can't believe I didn't think to ask Macaque. I was so worried about getting you to say yes, I didn't even think about him... I really thought you'd be the one needing convincing."

He tried to scoff, "Pfft. Me? I'm the life of the party! And I can't wait to meet some of these new friends of yours that you've been raving about!"

He was laying it on a little thick but it seemed to reassure MK and the kid launched into a detailed list of all the people he thought Wukong would get on great with. He just did his best to smile and nod.

----

He was avoiding going home. After he'd bid MK a strained yet cheerful goodbye he had waited for the other shoe to drop but so far it hadn't come. It'd gotten to the point he was starting to believe that Macaque must have decided to take a trip off the island and hadn't heard his cowardly attempt to pass the buck.

He wasn't sure if that was better or worse. It had to be better, right? God, he hoped so.

So, tentatively he made his way home, taking as many scenic detours as was possible, until eventually even the monkeys were questioning his odd behaviour. And to be fair, circling the peach tree outside the house over and over again was pretty out of character behaviour.

If Macaque was sitting in the house waiting for him, there was no way he wasn't aware of what Wukong was up to. He forced himself to stop and take a breath. What was he even doing? What did he think was going to happen that he, Sun Wukong, couldn't handle?

He didn't let himself consider all the ways Macaque could make his life miserable. Instead all he allowed himself to focus on was marching up the stairs and through the front door - thinking about it was only going to give him time to stress about it. Better to face the music and get it over with.

He was stopped short however when he entered the house to find a small army of monkeys staring straight at him. Those closest to where Macaque was sitting on the couch were tugging on his clothes and fur and pointing at Wukong while chirping worriedly. Macaque did not look amused.

Wukong scowled at the monkeys as their concerns reached his ears, "I wasn't acting that weird. Really? Your first thought was that I was possessed? Wh-? No, I'm not drunk! Or sick! I was just thinking! People go for walks and pace when they think! They do!"

Not a single monkey believed him, none more so than the demon in the middle of them all. Wukong tried to shoo them away, "Look, all of you get out of here. I need to talk to Macaque and we don't need an audience!"

They simply parted around him, not at all moved by the direct order from their king. In fact, many of the little traitors were looking to Macaque for instruction. Who thankfully was merciful enough to do just that, "He's fine, he's just an idiot. Don't worry, I'll set him straight and then you can have a go at him."

Rude but unfortunately not a hundred percent uncalled for this time. The monkeys however did make their way out of the house via the windows, a handful of them sending reproachful chirps his way as they did so. He glared after them but he was quickly cowed when he turned to see Macaque with his arms crossed, looking at him expectantly.

Oh boy.

Not quite able to hide his nerves, he asked, "So... How much did you hear?"

The responding glare said it all. Sheepishly he asked, "Is there anyway I could convince you to take the fall for this? Whatever you want for being the reason this party doesn't happen, it's yours."

A very dangerous offer to make but there was the tiniest part of him that still held on to the impossible hope that he could get out of this somehow and he was willing to go all in.

"How about you start by telling me all about these issues that I have first?"

He tried not to fidget, "Do we have to?"

"How else would I convince MK if I don't know why I'm against it?"

Foolishly optimistic, he stepped forward, "Wait. Are you being serious? You'd seriously take the wrap for this one?"

"That remains to be seen. Get talking."

The rational part of him screamed that he was being lured into a false sense of security but everything else was ready to grab this opportunity with both hands. Or it was until he realised what exactly he was going to have to talk about.

Hesitantly he offered, "Ah, well, y'know, it's just... it's been a long time since we've had so many people on the island. Apart from MK and a handful of his friends it's got to have been, like, six hundred years? And he's talking about inviting hundreds of people. You, er, don't feel any sort of way about that?"

"I can imagine I'd feel more about it if I had deliberately isolated myself here for that length of time."

He cringed slightly but he pushed on, "Yeah, ok, harsh but sort of fair. But you feel something about it anyway, right?"

Macaque shrugged, "I have mixed feelings - any concerns I may have can be addressed through the planning process."

He latched on to that, "But you do have concerns! See! We're in agreement then! This is a bad idea!"

Really he should count himself lucky Macaque didn't lunge at him right then and there but his eyes told him that it had been a near thing. With a great deal of effort Macaque seemed to repress the urge to kill him and through gritted teeth asked, "Enlighten me on your concerns."

Not quite ready to delve into feelings, he started with the facts, "The island is a sanctuary - we can't just have anyone coming here! I know MK says they plan to keep it all to the beach but who's to say there won't be someone who wants to take a peek that will sneak around any borders!"

"And what? Even if they head further into the island, they'll never get into the cave. Your precious hoarding vault is safe."

"That's not what I'm worried about! You don't remember the issues with invasive species? It only takes one person to track mud from wherever they're from to seriously compromise our ecosystem! It took years to get on top of that banana weevil infestation! And don't get me started on the ticks! And that's just the unintentional damage they could do!"

He hadn't been too concerned about the actual island but now that he had started thinking about it the risks just continued to mount up, "What if one of MK's so-called friends is actually just someone who's using him to get to me! They could do terrible things to the island - try and poison the water supply, bring in some sort of disease, lay traps for the monkeys... The monkeys! What if they're poachers? What if they want a rare monkey pelt to add to their collection? Do you know how valuable they are?"

Macaque snapped, "I do know. I know it better than you ever will."

Wukong wavered. Poachers had been a problem ever since the world had been made aware of their little paradise but very few had been willing to risk the Monkey King's wrath. That had all changed when he had been sealed away however and he knew Macaque had had a hell of a time trying to keep their home safe.

The island was huge and while Macaque's abilities were impressive he couldn't be everywhere at once, couldn't know what was happening on every square inch of it or keep track of every monkey. It was, understandably, a touchy subject.

His voice softened, "I know you do. I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I just want to keep our home safe. Opening the island up to the world, inviting people in... It was one of the worst mistakes I ever made."

And that was without even mentioning the wars and politics it brought with it. The hardships just being known brought the island and it's denizens was something he'd never forgive himself for and he'd spent centuries trying to make amends and restore balance.

Macaque sighed heavily and gestured for him to take his seat on the couch. Taking this as a sign he wasn't quite as mad anymore he did so as Macaque responded, "Wukong, we can assess any risk to the island and put protective measures in place. That's an easy stipulation to put to MK - he doesn't want anything bad happening either."

He looked down, "You can't plan for every single eventuality and in my experience if something can go wrong, it will."

"God, when did you become such a pessimist? No, we can't plan for everything but we can still take steps to ensure everything goes smoothly and we'll both be there on top of it all - we can keep an eye out for trouble. Two hundred people is well within my capacity to keep track of - as soon as someone wanders somewhere they shouldn't I can portal them straight back."

He frowned, "You shouldn't have to work security detail. You should be having fun."

"As if I wouldn't be keeping an ear out for trouble anyway but regardless I'm not going to be having fun if you're not."

Man, he didn't want to get in the way of everyone having a good time but he couldn't see himself enjoying this party and he might be able to convincingly fool MK and his guests but he wouldn't be able to fool Macaque.

The crux of the issue was, as ever, the Monkey King.

Once upon a time it had been a name he'd proudly called himself, a title fitting of his prestige and power, a role that he fully embodied. There was no pretense, it had never been a persona or an act - he had been the Monkey King through and through.

But that couldn't be further from the truth now and his feelings on it were conflicting and complicated to say the least.

These days he was Sun Wukong and most of the time that was who he wanted to be. Just a one of a kind stone monkey that kicked back on Flower Fruit Mountain with an equally one of a kind shadow monkey - it was by and large a peaceful existence and that was how he liked it.

He couldn't say he never dreamt of reliving his heydays as a legend, as a hero or as a king but they were nothing more than flights of fancy, just idle thoughts on a slow day.

Here, on the island, he was not the Monkey King. With the rare exception, of when MK or his friends were here, then he almost couldn't stop himself from falling back into the role. In some way, he did it because it was expected of him - that's who he was to them and to anyone beyond this island.

But it also just felt... safer to be the Monkey King. Which was laughable seeing as being the Monkey King had only brought him trouble but he embodied everything others believed him to be - fearless, confident, charming, untouchable...

He didn't hate being him, by all rights he loved being him but it wasn't the real him. Not anymore. And to put on the metaphorical crown for any length of time wore on him. He could do it but to put on the performance on the island to a crowd of hundreds? He could feel his stage fright start to fester at just the thought.

It was crazy to think he really had once been the life of the party - he'd flourished in the lively atmosphere, soaked up all the attention, overindulged in food and drink. It was crazier still that Macaque was now the one trying to convince him that a party would be a good idea. He used to hate the excess of obnoxious behaviour and noise.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had been a party literally anywhere else where he could just leave once he'd reached his limit. He could almost muster up some excitement at the thought of a little shindig at Niú and Gōngzhǔ's place with Macaque.

But a big party here consisting of all of MK's friends, most of whom he'd never met and who no doubt had plenty of expectations for the Great Sage Equal to Heaven? It sounded like hell.

Instead of saying this all out loud however he weakly asked, "You think MK would notice if we just sent clones in our place?"

Macaque regarded him for a moment, before genuinely telling him, "If you really don't want this party to happen we can just tell MK no. I'll even be nice and let you say it was a joint decision."

He groaned, "But he was so excited. I don't want to let him down. He never asks me for anything and this is nothing in the grand scheme of things."

He was being dramatic, what was one night of being a little stressed in the face of seeing MK so happy? The kid deserved to have a good time after all his hard work and he wasn't asking for much.

He continued, "You're right we can work through any security concerns and then anything else... It's only one night. Nothing I can't handle."

"Or, alternative option, we just ask MK to scale it down and only invite people he knows well. I'm willing to bet half those numbers were plus ones and at least a quarter were people he's worked with but never properly spent time with outside of hero business. A lot less to worry about if it's a party of, say, twenty rather than two hundred."

He really didn't want to compromise but he couldn't deny how much better that sounded but still that wasn't what MK wanted. Before he could argue however Macaque continued, a plan clearly coming together in his mind, "I bet we could almost skip the party altogether if we play out cards right. Picture this, when everyone gets here we give them a tour of the island and then drop them off at their party spot. We've put in an appearance and everyone gets to say they had a tour of Flower Fruit Mountain and met the Monkey King himself. Win-win."

Wukong tried to interject but Macaque just steam rolled ahead, "And hey, why not use this as an excuse to have a little party of our own? Invite Niú, Gōngzhǔ and maybe even the Tailor Trio for some drinks in the cave to distract you from what's happening on the beach."

That... actually sounded like it might be pretty nice and they should definitely do that sometime when it wouldn't deliberately clash with MK's plans, "We can have them around for drinks any time. We should do this for MK."

Macaque sounded annoyed as he responded, "You're the one that didn't want this party to go ahead at all. Why are you suddenly playing martyr?"

"I'm not playing martyr. I was just being dumb - I should have just said yes when MK asked."

Macaque made an aggravated noise as he kicked him none too gently, "Why are you like this? It doesn't have to be one extreme or the other. We can compromise."

"We don't need to compromise! I've got this!"

"Well, I don't! If you want to do this then you're on your own!"

He felt himself pale, "Wait. What do you mean on my own?"

"I mean, I'll fuck off to Niú and Gōngzhǔ's and you can go to this party by yourself."

"What? Why?"

Macaque had to be here with him, he needed him to be here. He needed is ears and shadows to reassure him the island was safe. He needed to have him here to have his back.

"I'm not going to sit and suffer through something if I don't have to."

How had this argument gotten turned around?

"Sit and suffer? You'll have a great time! It's me that'll be suffering!"

"You really think I want hundreds of obnoxious strangers in our home? And to have to socialise with any of them?"

"What are you saying? Before you were all for this and now I'm agreeing with you suddenly have an issue?"

"I know you're not this thick, Wukong. At no point did I say I wanted this to happen. I just wanted to understand why you felt the need to lie to MK. What is wrong with compromising or saying no?"

"Because it's selfish!" The sharp declaration caught them both by surprise and haltingly he tried to explain, "And I... I don't want to be selfish. I've- I've been selfish enough."

He looked away, his hands balling into fists. He didn't want to be selfish but he just couldn't seem to stop himself, it was always his first instinct. It was bad enough he hadn't wanted this party but he hadn't even owned up to it, instantly shifting the blame on to Macaque to save his own pride. What was wrong with him?

His master would be ashamed.

He turned back to Macaque at hearing him take a breath, "Look... Yeah, it was shitty to try and rope me into this but you're blowing this out of proportion. It's fine that you don't feel comfortable having people here, I don't feel comfortable having people here. The root of the problem here isn't selfishness, it's fear."

He sat with that for a moment. Weighed up how true that was. He didn't believe that selfishness didn't play a part but at the heart of it he was afraid, wasn't he? He was afraid of lots of things - history repeating itself, making the wrong decisions, disappointing everyone... But beneath all of that was his fear of the Monkey King and it was hard to say if he was more afraid to be him or to not be him.

Out loud he could at the very least admit he was afraid, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to try and put his fears into words.

He nodded slowly, "You're right. I... I am afraid but I don't want that to be what drives me."

"That doesn't mean you can just ignore it - that's why I'm saying we should compromise. We don't need to brute force our way through this but this also isn't something beyond what we can handle. If MK still wants to have his big party he can find somewhere else. I don't believe they couldn't sort something out with Niú and Gōngzhǔ. I don't doubt I could convince them if for some reason Red Son can't."

He was feeling swayed but he couldn't help but lament, "It's not what MK wanted though."

"So MK might be a little disappointed. Hardly the worst thing that can happen to someone - at the end of the day what he wants is to get together with some friends and have fun. He can do that on a smaller scale here and/or he can do it on a bigger scale elsewhere. He's not going to hold a grudge over it. Mei and Red Son might but who cares what they think?"

He laughed a little at that last sentiment before relenting, "Guess I need to talk to MK then."

Macaque nodded, "No getting around that. But we can hash out some proposals for him and then talk to him together."

It was crazy how effective the sentiment of facing something together was at soothing him.

He let himself flop on Macaque's lap, "I'm sorry I tried to pass the buck. I suck. I just didn't want MK to know I'm just an anxious old man."

He didn't believe he'd heard the end of projecting his issues on to Macaque but for the moment he seemed in a merciful mood, running a hand through his hair, "With a suitable amount of grovelling I might find it in me to forgive you."

He mock-huffed, "I was hoping for a "No, you're not an anxious old man, Wukong. You're totally young and hip and brave" - maybe with some swooning, a love declaration- Ow!"

Macaque pulled at his hair, "Don't push your luck. You're not out of the woods yet."

That was fair. He settled down and sank into the pleasant feeling of Macaque resuming his gentle ministrations and after a moment he tried to offer a sincere if not awkward thank you, "Thanks for putting up with me when I get all, y'know..."

Emotional, sensitive, stressed... The list was endless and while his gratitude hadn't quite been as eloquent as he would have liked, he was sure Macaque understood. He'd find another way to properly show his appreciation.

Macaque scoffed at his poor attempt before responding, "Yeah, well pretty sure it was my turn anyway. Just means you're up for responsible and supportive duty next. And god knows what you'll have to deal with."

For Macaque? He'd face whatever came their way.

----

As Macaque predicted, MK had been disappointed but after a bit of back and forth, that got a lot more dramatic once Mei and Red Son got involved, he had accepted the party of the century he had envisioned was not going to happen on Flower Fruit Mountain's shores anytime soon.

They had left him with the hope that perhaps it could happen one day, if smaller events could be held without anything going wrong then maybe they could build up to it and that seemed to soothe any ruffled feathers. Wukong hadn't quite been able to admit he had outright lied about being on board with the party from the start but he had stood with Macaque as a united front and he was very grateful to Macaque for allowing it.

For the immediate future however they didn't have to worry about any parties. Well, they didn't have to worry about any parties the kids wanted to have here at least. One positive thing that had come out of this whole debacle was the idea that they should try and have some people over for a get together. It felt like a nice easy first step for getting used to the idea of perhaps having a proper party one day.

Any nerves he had about this particular soiree were much easier to manage when he felt genuinely excited about it. He knew all the people coming and few of them even acknowledged he was the Monkey King - Chóu at this point just seemed to outright refuse to believe he was anyone of note outside of Macaque's "husband".

Which wasn't at all helped when she saw his humble little abode, thankfully he didn't have to listen to sarcastic comments about how fitting a palace it was for the supposed king for long as he ushered them onto the naturally formed balcony a short distance away.

It was the perfect spot - close enough to the house in case anyone needed anything and short of climbing up to the top of the mountain it had one of the best views of the island there was. Not to mention there was plenty of shade for those who preferred or needed it.

Everything had already been set up although he might have gone a bit over the top with the food and drink selection. He'd cooked and baked through most of the day yesterday to make sure there was plenty to eat, he'd dug deep into the old wine cellars to see what was to be found and squeezed a truly ludicrous amount of fruit juice. He was determined that he was going to be the perfect host - it was a matter of pride.

That and he really didn't need to give Gōngzhǔ any more reason to hate him. He was sure she only tolerated him for Macaque's sake and, y'know, given the hardships that he personally had caused her that was probably more than he deserved. But he was hopeful he might be able to improve his standing with her at least a little. Eventually... after a considerable amount of time and effort.

Shockingly however he and Niú on the other hand had made great strides towards reconciliation, with considerably less violence than he would have expected. In Niú's own words, they were different people, in a different world and clinging to the past would do nothing to serve them.

That's not to say he did not make it clear that any backsliding, on either of their parts, would not be met with swift and painful retribution. His relationship with Macaque was under particular scrutiny and while there hadn't been an explicit shovel talk, the message had been received loud and clear.

Since then the two of them had had a number of, dare he say it, pleasant interactions - they'd even gone hunting together once or twice with just the two of them. Running wild around the fiery planes of Niú's home was nostalgic in many ways but it didn't make him feel young and carefree in the same way that chasing Macaque did.

Not entirely at least, every once in a while he caught a flash of two young and power hungry demon lords that thought they were on top of the world. It was a heady feeling and it reminded him of how he and Niú had once become fast friends. Their territories far enough apart that they could bond over their ambition, rather than instantly being at war.

He found himself grateful that there were only fleeting glimpses of who they had once been. They had both once been known for their greed and their fury and while he didn't believe they'd ever truly rid themselves of those aspects of who they were, they were under careful wraps. Both aware of everything they had to lose should they ever be tempted to give into either.

He liked to think they both were much easier people to be around these days. Humility and wisdom, forced upon them through the consequences of their actions, made them much more considerate and thoughtful individuals. Not to say they didn't both have their quirks and bad habits but if nothing else they were better listeners.

He was feeling a little bit soppy seeing Niú sat comfortably looking out over the island with a glass of peach wine. Niú was looking a touch nostalgic about it all as well. It had been a long time since he'd been a welcome guest here - it was... bittersweet.

Talking about the old days was always a bit of precarious activity - the risk of wandering into dangerous territory was high and even good memories could leave one feeling morose. Thankfully, the presence of Chóu, Mián and Chī helped them to avoid the worst of it. Especially when they had so many stories of the present to share.

All of them were tittering gleefully as Mián acted out how Macaque apparently behaved whenever Wukong made him a new outfit. They threw themselves against walls and twirled unnecessarily until they sat and posed dramatically before clearing their throat obnoxiously.

Chóu did her best to say her lines while wheezing, "Macaque... Why don't you... Don't you look lovely today."

Mián responded disinterestedly, "Hm? Oh, thank you." All the while they twirled their satin scarf, looking at it pointedly.

Chóu just about got out, "Are those new clothes?"

Mián stood and twirled this way and that, "Oh these? Why yes, my husband made them for me, by hand. Aren't they just stunning?"

Chóu was too far gone to try and respond properly, laughing loudly and with utter joy. Wukong was equally delighted and turning his gaze to Macaque revealed that he wasn't in the slightest embarrassed although he did look very amused, "You sure I don't usually throw in a handstand or a flip to make sure you can appreciate how well I can move in them?"

He was never going to let go of the fact that Macaque liked to show off something he had made for him. The pride he felt at this knowledge though made him feel a hundred feet tall. But despite puffing up in pride he still jeered, "Yeah, Mián! Commit! Do a flip!"

They flipped him off, "Like hell! Not all of us could get a second job in a circus, y'know!"

This, of course, set off an argument about who was the most athletic and thankfully it was early enough in their drinking that no-one was tempted to get too reckless with it. Chóu and Mián couldn't even do a handstand, although the former insisted she had been quite the gymnast in her youth. And when Chī had demonstrated an impressive string of flips and manoeuvres, Chóu had nodded, "Yup, just like that! I was a lithe little thing once!"

Honestly, it was hard to tell what to believe when it came to Chóu sometimes. He didn't doubt she certainly believed she had once been capable of Olympic level gymnastics but he had serious reservations about whether that had actually been the case.

When it came to the four remaining contestants rules had to be made - no powers, routines had to be restricted to a certain area and height and you only got one shot. It was the only way to avoid injury and collateral damage as they tried to one up one another. Honestly, it was hard to say who was the most competitive.

All of them loved to win and all of them were not above cheating in order to come out on top. Niú was surprisingly flexible for his bulk but he was the clear loser of the four of them and Gōngzhǔ while impressive was no match for a monkey. It was probably an added disadvantage that their fighting styles were more aligned to brute force than the fancy foot work that he and Macaque favoured.

Wukong had gone for a more is more approach. He figured the more flips he could fit in consecutively the more impressive it would look to the Tailor Trio, those were the only ones he could count on to possibly sway the vote in his favour - Niú and Gōngzhǔ were going to vote for Macaque no matter what he did.

He did hear some appreciative "ooh"s and "aah"s but he could admit he lost some points at the end for looking a little queasy - that many flips on their own would have made him dizzy but slightly tipsy he had some serious regrets. Macaque pat his back in a parody of concern before making his way to centre stage.

He grinned widely and took a bow before standing and changing his outfit in a flurry of shadows before a small orchestra of instruments started playing. A little band of shadows off to the side were playing on instruments Macaque had clearly pulled from inside the cave.

Aggravatingly, he had to give credit where it was due, he and the others had been focused purely on technique and impressive feats but leave it to Macaque to make a real show out of it. Everything was in time to the music and acrobatics were seamlessly strung together with dancing and poses in between them.

When he finally finished and took a bow it was to rapturous applause from the Tailor Trio and Wukong was torn between sulking and joining in. He was surprised when Gōngzhǔ slowly clapped before smugly noting, "Very impressive. A shame you'll have to be disqualified for using magic."

Macaque hadn't used magic for the actual performance but he supposed the music really did add to the spectacle. The question was though was he petty enough to jump in this bandwagon?

He pointed accusingly at Macaque, "That's right, cheater! You were trying to dazzle the judges! This was a test of acrobatics not showmanship! Disqualified!"

Macaque just grinned, "Disqualify me all you want but I don't think there's any denying whose performance you enjoyed the most. That's all the victory I need."

There was a great deal of back and forth over how to decide who was the true winner but it stayed on just the right side of vigorous debate to be enjoyable. He's not sure they actually came to a conclusion before they got distracted by other topics.

Macaque had continued to have the shadows quietly play instruments in the background and with the haze of alcohol slowly settling over him it took him a little too long to realise why that was an issue. He smacked Macaque's arm before he pulled out a handful of his own hair to form clones to take over the instruments.

Macaque's clones were not sentient like his, which meant he had to focus in order to have them play the instruments. No wonder he'd been nursing the same drink for the last hour. The live music was undeniably adding to the atmosphere but they could have easily gone and grabbed a speaker and played music that way.

Oddly, he still didn't seem to be in a hurry to drink anymore after that. Which wasn't a problem, of course, Mián wasn't drinking either but he didn't really have much time to dedicate any thought to it as he, rather foolishly, had decided that he was going to keep up with Niú who could put away a truly terrifying amount of alcohol in one sitting.

Gōngzhǔ was no slouch either but she clearly wasn't concerned with keeping up with them. Although she did get noticeably clingy as the sun went down - not with him obviously but she always had a hand on someone, increasingly however she was all over Macaque. Which was fine until Wukong had reached the point where all he really wanted to do was hang off Macaque himself and she wouldn't let him.

Thankfully, the situation never came to more than a glaring match thanks to Niú's intervention. Pulling Gōngzhǔ away and declaring it was time to head home. Macaque had looked greatly relieved and after many goodbyes and promises to do this again soon he had opened a portal for all of them to head through.

Once they had all left, it was like a switch had been flicked and suddenly he was extremely unsatisfied with the lack of physical contact. Nevermind that his head was already on Macaque's shoulder, or that he had an arm wrapped tightly around him, while his free hand played with their entwined tails. It wasn't enough, he needed to be closer.

Macaque just seemed bemused by his attempts to climb into his shirt. He stopped him with gentle but firm hands, "How about you let me tidy up first and then you can cling to me for as long as you want?"

He nodded along not really listening but once Macaque started to pull away he doubled his efforts to hold him closely as he whined, "Nooooo. Where are you going?"

Macaque laughed, "I should have gotten Mián to start diluting your drinks way sooner than I did. Just give me two minutes to make sure we don't wake up to a small disaster tomorrow morning because we left everything to the mercy of the monkeys."

That sounded vaguely like it was a good idea but he really couldn't understand why he should have to let go for that. Macaque could totally do both. He buried his head into Macaque's chest, "Piggy back."

"Ha! You wish. Here, let me make this easier for you."

Between one blink and the next he was inside the house sat on the couch and tragically there was no Macaque anywhere in sight, let alone in his arms where he was supposed to be. He leaned heavily on the backrest as he whined loudly, "Macaque!"

He pouted. He didn't know where Macaque was but if he didn't show up within the next thirty seconds he was going to have to go and find him. Why wasn't he here? He frowned and awkwardly tried to turn around to check the calendar in the kitchen - it wasn't a Void day was it? Hey, were those peach chips on the counter?

He stared at them long and hard before deciding, yes, he really did want those chips. He turned back around to ready to try and tell his legs to stand up when a heavenly weight landed on his lap and he looked up to see Macaque looking incredibly amused above him.

He threw his arms open wide with a delighted shout of Macaque's name before wrapping his arms around him, mumbling nonsense into his shirt. He drew back and pulled at the offending article, "Why are you wearing clothes?"

Macaque grinned, "Why are you wearing clothes?"

He looked downward to see he was indeed wearing clothes, he muttered to himself, "When did that happen...?"

He promptly began to wrestle with his shirt, it put up a good fight but Wukong had taken on thousands of more difficult adversaries than that. When he finally dropped his shirt off beside him, he was delighted to find Macaque's bare chest staring back at him and he wasted no time bringing his hands to Macaque's hips and nuzzling his head against it.

He was content for all of a minute before he complained, "Why can't we be closer!"

Macaque brought a hand to his cheek and directed his face upwards so their eyes met, "Closer, hm? How close do you want to be?"

The suggestive tone was completely lost on him as he all but winded Macaque as he trapped him in a bear hug, his head slamming against his sternum, "This close! This close but closer! Why can't I be, like, inside you?"

Macaque's mutterings of, "Well, you could be if you hadn't drank yourself stupid." were ignored as he realised there were yet more clothes separating them. He did his best to remove his trousers before he was momentarily stumped by the conundrum of having Macaque in his lap.

With no warning he stood up, grabbing Macaque and hoisting him up and holding him with one arm while his other tried it's best to free himself from his prison. He felt Macaque lean and elbow on his head with a sigh, "You know if you weren't currently struggling to understand how clothes worked that might have been pretty hot."

Ugh, boots. How was he supposed to...? Trousers around his ankles, he tried to bring one foot up to make an attempt at removing the stupid thing. For whatever reason though all coordination and grace seemed to have left him and he heard Macaque swear as they started on a crash collision for the floor.

For one nauseating moment he thought he might throw up as the shadows shifted around him but thankfully when he landed sprawled on top of Macaque on the couch he managed to swallow it down. He was quickly distracted by Macaque's laughter and he found himself staring up at him adoringly.

His attention was however snatched away by the feeling of shadow swirling around his legs and his face lit up as he looked down to see them remove his boots and trousers. He was even more delighted to realise that Macaque's were already gone. He snuggled against him, as he slurred, "Shadow powers are so good..."

He melted as Macaque gently scratched at his scalp, "You're so good... The best..."

Macaque chuckled, "I know. Close enough for you yet?"

Legs, arms and tail wrapped around him, with head tucked underneath his chin he hummed his contentment. No, wait..., "Mac, I need to piss."

Macaque removed his hand from his hair with a huff, "Then go piss then."

He groaned, "Don't want to move. Comfy. Really need to go though."

"What a conundrum. Whatever will you do?"

He was suddenly struck with the greatest idea any soul had ever conceived. He almost headbutted Macaque in the chin as he swung his head up to announce his brilliant solution, "Mac! You can do it for me!"

Macaque snorted, "I think you'll find I can't."

He brought up a hand to pat at Macaque's face with urgency, "You can! Shadow portal! Right here!" He gestured in the general direction of their hips, "Then I don't have to move at all!"

Macaque blinked at him before his face scrunched in disgust, "You are not pissing through one of my shadow portals!"

He whined, "What? Why not? It's genius! Just open a portal that I can put my dick through."

For a brief second, he thought Macaque had actually done it and then he found himself lying face first on to his bathroom floor next to the toilet. He groaned Macaque's name loudly in displeasure before he grumbled his way through the arduous process of picking himself up, pissing and then stumbling back to the living room.

He frowned when he saw it was empty but a shout of his name from the bedroom has him perking up. He all but collapsed on top of Macaque when he reached him complaining loudly, "Can't believe you'd do that to me... You suck."

Macaque huffed, "What happened to me being the best?"

Curling around Macaque and getting comfortable all sins were forgotten, he nodded, "Yeah, you are the best." He yawned widely, "I love you."

Macaque snorted, "You're a real Casanova, you know that?"

He was out before Macaque could even comprehend responding.

----

One serious hangover later and Wukong was ready to be caught up on any details that were just a touch too fuzzy for him to appreciate on his own. The first thing he did however was gripe about Macaque's lack of a hangover.

He had just shrugged, "I figured at least one of the overpowered old demons with a history of violence should stay sober. And the one that can portal the others into timeout felt like the sensible choice."

That was a pretty fair point to be honest but he couldn't help but feel a little put out, "Did you still have fun though?"

"Oh plenty. Always a good time when you get some potential blackmail out of it."

He racked his brain for any evidence that that ominous statement might apply to him when he thought he remembered something else, "Did I get into an argument with Chī over the best type of stitch?"

Macaque laughed as if he'd just remembered that himself, "You sure did. I don't think I've ever seen her so fired up - she was tapping so fast I was surprised you could still understand what she was saying. I'm not sure you actually won that one though. Mián had to pull her away before she could stab you."

What a sight that must have been. God, he used to be cool. People used to be in awe of him everywhere he went. And now he was being threatened with embroidery needles for being totally right about how he ranked different stitches. His younger self would never have seen that one coming.

Apart from that he and Niú had also gotten into a literal screaming match at one point - both convinced they had the better battle cry. Wukong snapped his fingers, "That's why I remember being in the middle of the desert!"

"Oh yeah. No way I was putting up with that. I brought you back after you had screamed yourselves hoarse."

After being filled in on the majority of shenanigans, he posed thoughtfully, "Hey, does Gōngzhǔ always gets so handsy when she's drunk? She was, like, all over you."

Macaque scratched his head a little awkwardly, "She can get a bit sappy but I think the touchiness was probably because you were there. I think she was just trying to keep you at bay. She gets a little protective. I'm actually pretty impressed she managed to be so civil but I think Niú called it just at the right time."

In hindsight, he realised at no point were he and Gōngzhǔ given an opportunity to talk one-on-one with each other and that likely hadn't happened by accident but they had managed to be part of the same conversations so that was good, right?

He tapped his fingers on the table as he asked, "Anything I could do that could make her less on edge around me?"

"Probably not... I wouldn't worry about it though. You've got me on your side and Niú has pretty much decided to let bygones be bygones so really all you can do is to keep not fucking up and one day she might sort of maybe feel neutral towards you?"

Wow. Aiming high there but that was better than hating him so he'd take it. He wasn't given much time to get caught up thinking about it when Macaque teased him, "Besides you're one to talk about being handsy. I don't remember you being that clingy a drunk."

He could only sit and cringe with embarrassment as Macaque took great joy in explaining his sudden abhorrence for clothes and his desperate attempts to be touching as much of Macaque as was physically possible. He was a tactile monkey, and he definitely did get worse when he'd been drinking but this was to a whole other level.

At least he hadn't done anything inappropriate? And Macaque didn't seem at all upset with him for it - quite the opposite in fact. And then he explained how Wukong had ruined the mood with his brilliant idea to use shadow portals to avoid moving in order to pee.

Macaque clearly expected sober him to agree it was gross but honestly he was amazed he had never considered it sooner, "Dude, that's genius! There's nothing worse than having to get up to pee when you're comfortable. You literally wouldn't have to move at all!"

Macaque was not impressed, "You're not using my shadow portals to cut out a thirty second walk to the bathroom."

Wukong accused, "There's no way you've never thought about this before now. Look, me in the eye and tell me you've never used your shadow portals to pee."

He tsked and looked away. And Wukong crowed victoriously, "I knew it! I can't believe you kept this from me!"

"For the last time you are not getting to use my shadow portals for this!"

They'd see about that. They'd long since passed the point where bathroom habits were remotely private affairs - Wukong was not going to let this go anytime remotely soon.

He let it go for just now though, "Man, what other applications of your portals have I not thought of?"

Macaque's face went suspiciously blank and suddenly the answer was very clear, "You've used them for sex stuff!?"

Macaque seemed to find the words "sex stuff" incredibly amusing but he didn't deny it. Both incredulous and a little embarrassed he stuttered, "What? I mean, how? Like, I get how you could use your, er, physical shadows to..."

The more he thought about it the more he realised how "useful" Macaque's abilities could be in the bedroom and his face only got redder and redder. Macaque looked all geared up to rock his world view before he seemed to reconsider, "Actually, I'm not sure you're ready to know."

"Wh-? What do you mean "not ready"! You think I can't handle it?"

He couldn't help but feel somewhat offended. He could handle anything that Macaque could throw at him. So what if he wasn't super experienced himself that didn't mean he would faint at hearing something a little risque - he'd travelled with Zhū Bājiè for heaven's sake! He'd heard more raunchy details than he'd ever wanted to know!

Macaque just grinned, "Actually, I think I'd rather hear your ideas for how my powers could be used."

He physically recoiled, absolutely ready to abandon this conversation because there was no way he won this one. He had never, ever thought about Macaque's powers being used in such a way before now and he wasn't really sure he wanted to. The few times he had considered what sex would be like with Macaque in the present it had been a tender, loving affair and that's the way he would like to keep it.

Morbid curiosity had been what had driven him to want to know more but he didn't want to play this game. So swallowing his pride, he coughed and looked away, "Er, maybe you're right and I'm not super ready to know."

He looked up at Macaque ruffling his hair fondly, "Yeah, I thought as much. Let me know if you come up with any less sexy ways my powers can be used. You might even surprise me with something I've not thought of."

He somehow doubted it but he did love a challenge.

[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.