#and also it might (?) end up being the longest chapter anyway
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kateis-cakeis · 5 months ago
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what would you guys do if i didnt edit my latest fic and just went with it (once it is finished completely)
idk if i could do it but i dont wanna edit so badly
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tyrannuspitch · 1 year ago
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fairytale chapter one is finalised and i'm not allowed to poke at it any more :)
now i just need to uhhh do all of that again. And Again. how do multichapter people work
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pennyellee · 1 month ago
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
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pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader
genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
chapter warnings (preview only): minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, implied age gap, hoseok-sshi being tired of yoongi, …
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 646
release date: 7/12/24
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
author’s note: WELL AT LAST INNIT? Y'all I swear I’m as impatient to put this out but also so nervous. This is the longest chapter of Lacrimosa to this date and there is a reason. A lot is going to happen here and in part two. That’s why I decided to split this into two parts, and perhaps if this would be only one part I would have to write “the end” which I’m still not contemptuous with soooo yeah. But this has been such a long ride and looking at the almost 300 pages long document I’m sitting here like damn. The first draft of Lacrimosa can be traced back to 2021 and I can’t believe we are almost at the end of it all.
ANYWAY - for those who asked a lot about Y/N’s and Yoongi’s age gap, kudos for your patience. Also, I have another fic that is setted in the world of champagne confetti [now i’ll know if you’re actually reading these notes hihi] of which preview will come, probably this week too, or maybe the next one, again, very excited to push it out finally AND, yes to all of you if you’re still reading this note - CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI [now you just looked up to see what i’m talking about right] will come around as soon as i’m finished with UNI this year. If yall be good I can pull out a preview out of my sleeve for Christmas. SO, see you all on 7/12/24, the usual time :))))
previous NEXT
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….
“You don’t just do that without having something bigger planned.”
Seokjin’s eyes flickered to observe Yoongi’s reaction to their brother’s words. “He is right, Yoongi. She has always been emotional, and driven by her heart. But this—" He shook his head. “It’s different.”
Jimin shifted in his seat, looking between the men, the concern in his eyes growing.
Hoseok stood straighter, his expression softening as he spoke with conviction. “She had a choice. She could have walked away or stayed neutral, but instead, she chose to act. And what she did, Yoongi, was not just for herself. It was for all of us. For you. Do not dare to doubt her loyalty, when she worked hard to finally be contemptuous here!”
Jungkook, his voice quieter than usual, spoke up listening to Hoseok’s words. “She did what she had to do. And whatever her reasons are, I trust her.” His gaze met Yoongi’s. “You should, too.”
Yoongi’s expression hardened, trying to keep his emotions in check. His mind raced, the weight of everything that had happened in the past hours pressing down on him.
Taehyung’s voice broke through the silence once again, more serious than usual.
“She has changed—” Yoongi exhaled sharply, his mind still reeling. “I just need to understand why. Why now? Why this?” His voice dropped to a near whisper, the vulnerability slipping through despite his best efforts to hide it. His heart... his heart wanted to believe in her, wanted to believe she was doing this out of devotion, not manipulation.
“Of course, she has changed!” Hoseok’s frustration was bubbling at this point. "You were nine when she was born," he continued the quiet force in his voice, not backing down.
“Nine years, Yoongi. You have had that much more time to figure things out. To live your life, to become who you are now. She did not have that—” Yoongi’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. The truth was there, raw and unfiltered, and it stung.
“She had three pathetic years to enjoy what life can be and then she went to be your wife.” He took a breath, trying to steady himself. Y/N had spent so much of her life suffocated by the things that had shaped her, by the violence and manipulation that had plagued her existence long before she ever crossed paths with him.
The silence that followed was thick, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.
His voice was quieter than it had been, softer, as he spoke the words he wasn’t sure he was ready to say. “I just… I need to—”
“Even if she is plotting some grand escape, we will stop her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s head snapped up at the interruption, his eyes narrowing at Hoseok’s words. For a moment, Yoongi’s chest tightened, the idea of Y/N plotting against him threatening to undo everything he’d been trying to hold together.
He stepped forward, his hand resting gently on Yoongi’s shoulder, an attempt to ground him in the present. “You all are too busy doubting her, instead of trusting her.” Yoongi flinched slightly at the rawness in Hoseok’s tone. He had been too caught up in his own doubts to truly see the bigger picture.
“Maybe you are right,” Yoongi muttered, his voice low, almost to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling back to the surface.
“She is not running, Yoongi. She is not playing you. What is happening now is what happens when you have been given enough time to think.” Hoseok’s gaze softened, his expression becoming more contemplative.
For the first time in a long time, Yoongi allowed himself to take a breath, to breathe out the doubt, and let himself hold onto the belief that maybe, just maybe she was done fighting him for good.
“I genuinely hope that you are right, Hoseok-sshi.”
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coming soon
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©pennyellee. please do not repost
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
PS: Taehyung and Xiaoli 🤭🤫❤️
keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.
tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts - @seonghwaexile - @catlove83
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soaps-mohawk · 4 months ago
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The Cottage Part 2: The Interior
Okay this might need four parts since there's more photos in here than I thought so...yeah. Here's the interior of the main area. I'll put first floor bedrooms in the third part. I did some screenshots before I realized I should light the fire to make it more like it was when they arrived (and they'll be using that fireplace a lot) so some do have it some don't. It's arguably the nicest part of the house. Took me the longest and beat me up but I did it. I hope you enjoy! (Wish I lived here)
Also forgot to mention in the first post that I built in Brindleton Bay in the Chateau Frise lot which is occupied in game but I bulldozed and built there since it matched the exterior aesthetic of the cottage. You'll understand soon
Sims Builds Masterlist
Anyway, here's the main area looking in from the door, I tried so hard to get the furniture to match colors but the Sims makes it so hard. Also it's blue?? I am incapable of decorating houses in any other color so...yeah. I think it's because I started with a blue kitchen to match the inner thoughts and then the rest of the main area ended up blue to match so...you can imagine it any other color if you happen to have a vendetta against the color blue.
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Here's the dining area which you'll see a more close-up picture later. Also blue and white because...vibes.
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 Here's the area behind the couches near the door. Also very important but you can put two and two together there. Also not all of the lights are on all of the time, it's mostly just for screenshot's sake so you can see where there's lights, etc.
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Here's what's on the other side of the door. We'll get into those rooms in the next post.
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Here's a kind of aerial view of the kitchen and then one in the kitchen. Very important place, again you'll understand when reading chapter 37
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 Here's the dining room looking from the kitchen, and then a shot looking out the back door. Again, that's important and context in chapter 37 (you're gonna get so tired of me saying that)
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And finally a closer look at the patio. Set up how it is going forward for the time being, you'll understand blah blah blah.
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And finally a kind of POV shot. In the story there's more ocean visible than here in this shot of course (limited by the Sims) but they're like not right up against the cliffs looking down at the ocean. There's still a distance between the cottage and the actual ocean.
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Part 3 ->
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al-of-the-stars · 7 months ago
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Hellooooo i saw you Vassago one shot and i just love it!!!! I see that you really like writing about him and I'm starting to form a animation crush on him sooooo... I have a request!
Would you like to write a scenario where Vassago and the reader go out on a date? Like a "next chapter" from the your previous one in which they exchanged sinsegrams! We could see their messege dialogue and a date with them being cute! Also if you like to add, in the end of the date, the reader suggest they have ice cream and it's the first time Vassago tries one because of his warm nature and the fact that he never trusted Andrealphus to try one of HIS "products". FLUFF!
So that's the whole idea you i would love to see you write it. ONLY IF you want to. I love all of your work! Have a happy day!!!
Sugar-sweet Beginnings pt. 2: Stars and Sugar Highs
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Par 1
A/n: I LOVED WRITING THIS!! This is the longest foc I've ever written and I'm super proud of it! I kinda wanna write a part 3 later on lot gonna lie, but anyway, tysm for the request and I hope you enjoy! :D
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It was a calm night where no sounds could be heard but the wind rushing against the hellishly red leaves of trees. The darkness of your bedroom illuminated with the light of your phone screen showing a notification from Sinstagram. You pick it up and slightly squint from the bright light, giving yourself a bit to adjust to the attack on your tired eyes.
“You have 3 new messages from Vassago_goetia”
You unlock your phone and look at your chats
Vassago_goetia: Hello! This is Vassago, we talked at the gala last night.
Vassago_goetia: I was wondering if you're perhaps free tomorrow at 7 pm?
Vassago_goetia: If not, it's perfectly fine! There's this lovely park that looks the most beautiful at around that time if you would be interested in accompanying me. 
A soft smile found its way to your lips as you stared at the glowing device in your hand. You started typing a response, ignoring the quickening of your heartbeat and how hot your face suddenly started to feel in the usually cold air of your room.
You: I'd love to! That sounds super fun
Vassago_goetia: Perfect! I'll pick you up at 6:50?
You: that works for me
You: See u then!! :)
You held your phone to your chest “Wait, he ACTUALLY wants to see me?!” you thought to yourself. The wind from the open window blew your curtains revealing the celestial landscape of your side of hell, the same one that he might have been looking at right now. “Holy shit, I'm hopeless” The thought was too much to deal with and if you imagined him one more time, you might have just died right then and there. The stars and bright moon had also reminded you of something else important, the time, which happened to be far later than you should have stayed up to. You let out an involuntary yawn and sank down into the plush mattress and closed your eyes, wishing that tomorrow would arrive sooner. 
When the morning sun invaded your room, you awoke to an unusual feeling. You felt enthusiastic. The feeling hit you like a truck and left you feeling like a Disney character waking up at the start of their movie. You knew you liked the parrot demon but never could you have imagined that a simple date would have been this important to you. 
When the time came for you to begin getting ready, you began to feel more and more nervous. You tried pushing those thoughts away; after all, you had a bigger task at hand, make sure your date goes smoothly. You were interrupted by a knock on your door. You opened it to see the very same demon that had been haunting your mind. 
“Ah, hello, my dear!” He spoke with a smile on his face, “Are you ready to head off?” 
“I think so,” you feel your heart skip a beat as he offers his hand for you to take and places a soft kiss to your knuckles. 
“Might I add, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he says as he leads you away, hand in hand. 
The walk to your destination is peaceful with smalltalk and laughter. You try to steal the occasional glance in his direction, but little do you know that he's doing the same thing. Time flew and you arrived at the park, which was far more crowded than anyone would have guessed. You took a seat on a blanket in a more secluded section of the park. Conversation just felt so natural with Vassago. As time passed, you lay on the blanket, staring up at the stars.
“They're lovely, aren't they?”
“Truly beautiful,” he said, looking at you with love in his eyes as he watched you admire the night sky. This moment was perfect. The love you felt was so strong you were sure Cupid himself could feel it from all the way up in heaven. The mood became more energetic as you saw an ice cream stand with bright blue lights. Vassago noticed your interest in the stand and looked at it nervously.
“Can we get some ice cream?” You ask him with sparkles in your eyes, one that he could never bring himself to say no to.
“I'm not sure, one of the other goetia are in charge of ice and cold in hell and.. how do I say this in a way that isn't mean… he's a bit of a…”
“A bitch?” You finish his sentence and he hesitantly nods. 
“I don't exactly trust him,”
“Oh come on, please?” You try to convince him. He simply sighs and leads you to the ice cream stand. You order excitedly like a kid in a candy shop and he can't help but think that smile is worth it. You happily eat your ice cream on the way back to your house. Vassago hesitantly tastes the one he got, strawberry mango. To his surprise, he actually quite enjoyed it. The time got later and you failed to realize how tired you were because of how much foun you were having until you bid your farewells and flopped into your bed. However, all your sleepiness  washed away as you got yet another notification.
Vassago_goetia: I had a lot of fun tonight, if you would be up for it, would you perhaps be interested in going on another date sometime?
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butcherlarry · 8 days ago
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Weekly Fic Recs 87
I'm back from the mythical land of Ohio and I have brought with me fic recs! I'm changing up my format for how I make these too, I'll include the author's summary and bit of my own Thoughts and Feelings about said fic.
ALSO for all you Superbat lovers out there, if you are interested in joining a Superbat discord server, might I suggest the Superbat (every)week Server? It was originally for people to shout about their ideas for Superbat Week 2024, but since everyone was having so much fun talking about their favorite blorbos, we are keeping it running indefinitely. It's fun place full of talented people! Fic and art events are created (like Superbat Kinkmas and a winter gift exchange), watch parties for movies and TV shows are hosted (we also did a watch party for the new Superman trailer the day that dropped), as well as various other events (like Superbat PowerPoint Parties). You can also follow @superbateveryweek on Tumblr or on Bluesky
Anyway, on to the fics!
Fears Unfounded by OdosBucket @odos-bucket - Superbat, Batfam, Teen, 3064 words, complete.
Author Summary: Jason hasn’t really witnessed a lot of positive, healthy relationships between the adults in his life. Looking back on it he might be able to acknowledge that he was going to be mistrustful of anyone who was introduced to him as his new guardian’s romantic partner, regardless of who that person was. But at twelve years old all he knows is that he doesn’t like Clark.
Jason being protective of his dad 🥺 (and learning what weirdos people from outside of Gotham are)
Comfort by fishfingersandjellybabies @fishfingersandjellybabies - Superbat, Batfam, General, 1228 words, complete.
Author Summary: In which Damian has a nightmare, and his stepdad takes care of him.
Damian willingly cuddling with Clark. My HEART 😭💖💖
fast break by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Superbat, Explicit, 6323 words, complete.
Author Summary: Bruce's heat lasts approximately six days — that should be plenty of time for Clark to impregnate him, right? [Five times Bruce and Clark's children stopped them from making a new one, and one time they succeeded.] For Bottom Bruce Wayne October day 7: batfam cockblocking Bruce.
Omegaverse? On my fic rec list? It's more likely than you think! Also, the thought of Clark being cockblocked by Bruce's children amuses me to no end.
(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions @froizetta - Superbat, Teen, 89352 words, wip.
Author Summary: It starts like this. Clark Kent has a hopeless crush on a woman who's out of his league. Bruce Wayne has a newly-acquired kid he feels ill-equipped to raise. Superman is still finding his feet. And Batman has an unshakeable suspicion that Superman surely can't be all that he seems. Things can only get more complicated from there.
SO EXCITED about this fic, it's on the second to last chapter!! I have been thoroughly enjoying the identity shenanigans.
Modern Day Pen-pal Romance by lostinreeverie - Superbat, General, 8937 words, complete.
Author Summary: “Wait, what? You’ve been texting some rando for three—no, four—days?” Clark stuffed an onion ring he stole from her plate into his mouth to avoid responding. Talking to Lois about this felt like opening Pandora’s box. Her shock morphed into intrigue, her eyes narrowing like a predator locking onto its prey. “Four days of texting, and you didn’t mention it until now? This is officially the longest your love life has lasted. Spill.”
Or, Clark accidentally texts the wrong number and strikes a rather unusual friendship
More shenanigans, but in the form of a wrong number. And I love Clark's opinions on phones.
Blood and Honey by RedFive - Superbat, Explicit, 25003 words, wip.
Author Summary: A pod of orphaned killer whales are sinking yachts off the Iberian Peninsula and marine biologist Clark Kent is trying to figure out why their behavior has changed so drastically. Nothing could prepare him for the truth, however, or the strange twists his life was about to take when me meets a merman….named Bruce?
Love me a good merpeople fic and I love mershark Bruce.
Things Turn Out Okay by Anonymous - Superbat, Explicit, 37869 words, wip.
Author Summary: Clark utterly adores his family - Little Dickie is growing more and more by the day, and six-month old Jason is still his perfect baby boy. Bruce is slowly returning to Batman duties, and Clark is happy. Another unplanned pregnancy certainly shakes things up a bit.
Anon, I just want you to know that you are my hero and I would go into battle for you. This fic is also part of a series that everyone should read RIGHT NOW.
I remember the night of the Superbat Kinkmas 2024 by threekingbelt @sisaloofafump - Superbat, Explicit, 16 words, wip.
Author Summary: Fanart fillings of the Superbat (Every)Week 12 Days of Kinkmas Bingo :D
It has been a pleasure and delight to watch Sisa create all this beautiful art. You should all feast your eyes upon it.
Holy Wattpad, Batman! by SolaceInSpace @manufactured-pleasantry - Bruce Wayne, Batfam, Teen, 3356 words, complete.
Author Summary: “—ever touch her again, I’ll make you regret ever being born.” A voice recording of Batman was leaked online. Once again, the internet went too far with it. Once again, Bruce's children suffered for it.
This entire series is perfect and you should all read it. I fucking love it when Bruce has to deal with Internet shenanigans.
straight on by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Bruce Wayne, Unrated, 3250 words, complete.
Author Summary: Batman tries to access the Watchtower without his signature cowl and uniform. Identity shenanigans ensue.
I am a big fan of Res's outsider POV fics, and this one is FANTASTIC. I love Jenna, she is my hero.
6:32 by TheResurrectionist - Batfam, Unrated, 2371 words, complete.
Author Summary: prompt from tumblr: fic idea where for some reason Bruce (as Batman) has to pick up Alfred and Tim from a public event gone wrong in the Batmobile (Tim was poisoned) and it’s not an emergency but speed is of essence and this is, coincidentally, the first time Alfred has been in the Batmobile when it’s actually moving and he gets to see firsthand how absolutely insane Bruce drives without the need to obey speed limits. and Tim’s puking and generally displeased so Alfred spends the whole ride chiding Bruce to slow down, for god’s sake, only for Tim to chime in from the backseat, between heaves, that this is slow for him, Alfred—
Protective dad Bruce and crazy driver Bruce? Sounds like a perfect (and insane) combination.
For Some Desperate Glory by chasingfigments @chasingfigments - Batfam, Teen, 15355 words, wip.
Author Summary: The ringtone lets Bruce know before he’s even pulled the phone out that someone in his family is calling from a civilian line, which—given the current hour—should mean Alfred is calling. The caller ID displays Tim Drake instead. Threads of concern and apprehension coil through him, but it’s possible—something prevented Tim from heading out with Dick tonight. If he were sick, or injured, Alfred would have let him know already, but it’s possible something came up with school or his friends. Dick would be just fine handling a solo night in the Batman suit. There’s no proof that anything is wrong yet. Bruce takes a steady breath and accepts the call. “Hey, Tim,” he says as he unlocks his car. “I’m—” “Sorry,” a mechanized voice cuts in, and Bruce goes still, fingers curled around the driver door handle. “Tim’s not available right now.” -- Or: Instead of taking over the drug trade, Red Hood kidnaps Bruce Wayne.
Oh god, the layers of who knows and doesn't know what is insane and makes for a fun and suspenseful read! I always look forward to this fic's update.
Classical Conditioning by trash_asylum - Logan Howlett/Bruce Wayne, Explicit, 4571 words, complete.
Author Summary: Logan and Bruce play a fun game of cat and mouse or should I say bat and wolverine.
I've been dealing with Poolverine brain rot after watching the Deadpool and Wolverine movie (on top of the Superbat brain rot), so I got SO EXCITED I saw this Logan/Bruce fic. A mash up of my current brain rots (and some favorite blorbos)
Mr. Forgettable by Arwriter @eliemo - Poolverine, Mature, 40523 words, wip.
Author Summary: Wade’s off the couch, moving slowly until he’s standing right in front of Logan. He’s eyeing him carefully, thoughtfully, like he can piece together a solution to whatever the hell is happening right now. “You’re not just doing this so you can get out of buying dinner, are you?" “Fuck you.” Or: Even if he can't quite place his face, Logan doesn't think he could ever forget Wade Wilson.
Every time this fic updates, I have to resist the urge to reread the entire fic because I love it so much (I fail each time, I've reread this fic so much). All the chapters have been from Logan's POV, but the latest one is in Wade's, which was Excellent to read. I am Super Excited for the next update.
The Subtle Art of Giving a Massage by Dorath3xplorer - Poolverine, Explicit, 5318 words, complete.
Author Summary: A minute later, Logan’s hands clutch so tightly at the sheets that his knuckles are turning white. Wade continues to squeeze and wring his muscles, using less skilled but much more powerful techniques just to get a reaction—Logan’s low grunt turns into an almost whine as Wade digs into a particularly sore spot; he does it again, harder, just to be mean, not expecting Logan to whimper, half-pleasure and half-pained as he jerks under Wade. Both of them go still. “Shit, Logan, are you getting off on this?” - Or: Wade asks for a massage, gives a massage, and gets a little more.
I am a big fan of pillow princess Logan. Give that emotionally repressed hairy man a good rub down (and dicking).
In The Midnight Hour by StrawberryNova - Poolverine, Explicit, 21631 words, wip.
Author Summary: "They did not really fuck in the Honda Odyssey, at least, in the conventional sense. The fight itself, that was a cathartic exercise, a release of aggression and hard feelings for both of them. That’s what he told himself, anyway. And what they did after that, it didn’t mean anything. It was barely more than what two teenagers would do on a third date. It was so stupid, so ridiculous, hardly even worth mentioning, let alone remembering over and over and over for three months straight. So why couldn’t he forget it?" or After an intense sexual encounter in the Odyssey, Logan tries to pretend it didn't mean anything. However, slowly, he realizes that maybe there's more to it than that. In the three months they'd been living together, Wade has made Logan feel a lot of things he's never felt before, both in the bedroom and beyond, and things he never thought he'd feel again. It's a getting-together fic fraught with pining, combined with Logan discovering a few kinks he didn't know he had.
I am also a fan about Logan discovering new and excited kinks he enjoys and not knowing what to do or feel about them (but Wade does).
Unexpected Encounters by RogueFroggo - Poolverine, General, 1969 words, complete.
Author Summary: “I expected him to be more…forward,” Scott said, breaking the silence “Especially with you.” “With me?” Jean said teasingly. Scott shrugged, “The other Logan—” “This isn’t our Logan, Scott,” Jean said firmly, “And besides, I think he’s very much interested in someone else…” Scott tilted his head confused, “Who?” Jean gives him a deadpan look, “Seriously? Were we not just in the same room for the past half an hour?” Or; Scott meets Logan for the first time and is kind of expecting him to flirt with his girl but instead this Logan is different and seems to have eyes for someone else.
An excellent outsider POV fic looking at Logan and Wade's relationship. I love how protective they are of each other 🥺
Snowstorm by sundazetales @sundazetales - Poolverine, Explicit, 6950 words, complete.
Author Summary: A snowstorm hits the city, trapping Logan and Wade alone in their apartment without electricity. Cue sharing a bed for warmth, drinking too much whisky, cuddling in candlelight, and…well, you’ll have to read to find out.
I am also stuck in the middle of a snow storm (blizzard warning yayyy), so reading this fic was a no brainer for me. Very cute and sweet 💖
Heat of the Moment by FinelyDressedSpacemen @finelydressedspacemen - Poolverine, Explicit, 11840 words, complete.
Author Summary: “My universe is different than yours,” Logan whispered. “Your biology’s a little different too. Think I’m just having a reaction to whatever that powder was. We didn’t have Interdites where I’m from.” “What, like you’re allergic?” “Sure,” Logan agreed. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He could feel the first stirrings inside of him, the first whispers of the need that would overwhelm him within days. .. After a mission gone awry, Logan goes into his first heat in twenty years.
A Poolverine omegaverse fic on my fic rec list?? It's more likely than you think! I am also a big fan of fics where Logan (or Wade) have omegaverse dynamics, but the other doesn't, but still learns how to take care of them during heats (or ruts).
crawl out through the fallout [to my loving arms] by Potrix - Poolverine, Mature, 6520 words, wip.
Author Summary: In Wade’s arms, the bundle starts crying in earnest. “No,” Wade chokes out, shaking his head, “no, I—no, no, no, no—” He puts the bundle down on the floor, stands on trembling legs, and flees. No one stops him. Logan, heart heavy and throat tight, goes to pick up the baby. [5 of his daughter’s firsts Wade misses out on, plus the 1 time he gets his shit together, steps up to the plate, and finally does the right fucking thing.]\
Logan with a cute baby. What more do I have to say? I am looking forward to the Wade interactions with the cute baby too :)
it's all in my head but i want nonfiction by obihoebikenobi @obihoebikenobi - Poolverine, Explicit, 21294 words, complete.
Author Summary: “Happy new year,” Wade murmured, bright reflection from the TV glowing in Logan’s eyes. “Should we kiss?” Logan said back, somewhere in the cacophony of voices and clinking glasses. What? “What?” Wade gasped because what the fuck? What the actual fuck? “What?” Logan asked back, lurching backward a little, clearing his throat, “I just–I thought–sorry.” Sheepish, stuttering Logan was not on Wade’s twenty–twenty-five bingo card, but here he was anyway, nervous fingers trembling against Wade’s thigh for a moment before he took them away. Logan stood haphazardly, placing a warm hand on Wade’s shoulder for just a fraction of a second, “I can wait. Another time. How about a hug?” Wade nodded, standing and shoving his chair back, launching himself into Logan’s hold a bit eagerly for his own liking, but Logan really didn’t need to see the heat rising to his cheeks. “Happy new year, bub,” Logan whispered in his ear. (Somewhere between sharing a bed, fixing their sleep schedules, and settling into a daily routine, Logan and Wade start dating. Too bad Wade doesn't know that.)
Oh my god, they are both so dumb. So, so dumb, I love this fic so much. Miscommunication my beloved.
Happy reading!
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yesimwriting · 2 years ago
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Final Girl - Part 8
Series Masterlist (updated chapters 1 -9 and extras) Final Girl Masterlist
A/N this took awhile,, but i always want to put my best foot forward bc of how much this series means to me, which means i work when i’m in the right headspace for it and have the time to invest,, which hasn’t been lining up too much recently 😭 anyways i see all the supportive comments and appreciate them sm!!
also keep in mind that my priority is not the timeline, like if you’re feeling like the month before halloween is the longest month of all time,, it’s bc i want to give them bonding time before the heavy murder stuff! 
Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at the Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s/
Chapter Summary: Y/n tries to get back to normal and work on her friendships, but there’s nothing normal about surviving a serial killer attack, and it’s no one’s fault her friends keep noticing. She’s navigating the start of dealing with her trauma while also trying to be a good friend, especially since Billy hasn’t been feeling like himself lately. In a desperate attempt to feel like a normal, healthy teenager, Y/n crosses a personal boundary. 
----
My mom has often told me that in many ways, I was born as an old lady. 
She’d always say it after I tried being responsible. Suggesting that she give herself a curfew on weeknights, or at the very least, call if she was going to be late. Reminding her that there’s a reason people gave her the side eye when she took a visibly underage me into R-rated movies. 
Now that I’m older, I guess she was right in a lot of ways. I wasn’t the kid-iest kid, if that makes sense, but there was one thing I was always good at: playing dress up. 
With a mom like Gloria, it would have been hard not to. For years, my mom’s closet basically had the same magical properties as Disneyland. I thought that that mindset might have just been nine-year-old me, but apparently not, because Tatum and Sidney have been looking through it like it’s life changing. 
“Okay.” Tatum picks up one of my mom’s shimmery wrap and tosses it over her shoulder. “It’s official, when I die, I want to be buried here.”
I look over in time to watch her observe herself in the mirror. “Then I hope you live for a very long time.” 
She wrinkles her nose.  “That better not be the only reason.” 
“Course not, you know I love you very much, Tate-a-boo.” I make a quick kiss-y face, and Tatum almost giggles before returning the gesture. 
Turning away from my mom’s dresses, Sidney smiles. “Please, for all our sakes, don’t let Stu hear you say that.” 
After the joke settles, I practically snort. “Good point.” I step a little further into the closet, refocusing my attention. The only reason we’re all in here is because I wanted to borrow a pair of shoes before going out to the nail salon. It was Tatum’s idea, and the state of my cuticles made me agree. My social hibernation has not been good to them. “Okay, these are the shoes.” 
Sidney steps out of the closet to give me the space to do the same. I slip on the shoes, happy with how they look with my outfit and their level of comfortableness. My mom rarely buys any shoes for herself that aren’t heels, so she ends up taking anything that’s remotely comfortable from my closet. 
“I want to stay here.” Tatum’s hand brushes against the sleeve of something cashmere. “Maybe forever.” 
“And leave your nail beds like that?” Sid glances away from the full length mirror that’s right outside of my mom’s closet. She turns her attention to her reflection, adjusting the fluffiness of her always, almost magically perfect bangs.
Tatum halfheartedly glares before stepping out of the closet. “You’re such a liar.” She raises a hand, studying her palm while walking out of the closet. “You told me they looked fine yesterday.”
Sidney almost smiles before throwing me a look. A quick raise of eyebrows that seems to say got her. “We’re gonna be late.” 
----
The first nail appointment after awhile always feels like willingly volunteering to get a bunch of paper cuts. It’s not overwhelming painful, just a little irritating. After feels nice, though, now that my nails look fresh and I know I don’t have to worry about having my cuticles professionally gutted for a little bit. 
And being around Sidney and Tatum is nice. Familiar in a way that’s still new. It’s weird in a good way. Like I could start throwing around cheesy terms like BFF and it wouldn’t even be dumb. It’d still be ironic, but I think they’d get the sentiment. It’s not that I’ve never had good friends, but this is different. A little more open.
Like right now we’re in Sidney’s room and we’re not talking about anything in particular, just going off of whatever comes up. I could probably say the dumbest thing in the world right now and it wouldn’t even feel unfitting or awkward. 
“...Shut up, he was not that bad.” Tatum’s trying to sound more upset than she is. Somehow Sidney found a way to tell me about Tatum’s first boyfriend. A total middle school romance--they even went to the 8th grade dance together and held hands and had their first kiss under the bleachers. Sounds cute enough, but according to Sidney he was a total weirdo. Even by 8th grade boy standards. “He wasn’t.” 
Sidney laughs again, the movement has her arm bumping into mine. “He tried to eat a live lizard because Stu dared him.” 
“No way.” I snort. “Your first kiss was with a lizard eater?” 
Tate sighs, dropping her head against the side of the mattress and crossing her legs on the floor. “Tried. It ran away and no one ever found it.” That’s still objectively hilarious. I can’t picture Tatum with anyone that out there, but then again, she is with Stu. 
Not that he reminds me of an 8th grade boy trying to eat a lizard, but he was the one that came up with the idea. “Maybe Stu ate it.” 
Tatum glares, halfheartedly shoving my leg as Sidney clasps a hand over her mouth to avoid laughing too hard. “I’ll ask him.” 
It’s strange to picture them like that. A little younger, growing up together. “So you guys knew each other back then and now...” 
She shrugs, “I don’t know...it just kind of happened. He was always hooking up with or seeing any girl with a pulse and I didn’t even see him like that until after--” She cuts herself off with no warning. “You know Sidney and Billy have a way nicer getting together story.” Tate snaps her head up to look at Sidney, whose expression immediately shifts. “Right, Sid?” 
Sidney’s eyes briefly meet mine. There’s a bit of uneasiness there that I don’t get. What could the end of Tatum’s thought have been? What could she have been about to say that might have been--oh. 
“Yeah,” she agrees, “Billy and I were hanging out for weeks--” 
“You can say her name.” My throat feels drier than it did a second ago. “I won’t freak out if you mention Casey. Promise.” 
Tatum’s eyes briefly shut. “That’s--” She doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. I’m right. Why wouldn’t she think I’d freak out? After the way I acted at that party. “No one would blame you if you did.” 
It’s easy to say that it doesn’t matter when you’re not the one that has melt downs. “Yeah.” 
There’s a brief stretch of awkward silence, the light mood now tainted by the exact thing that’s kept me away from my friends for so long. Maybe keeping to myself was about more than the safety of others--maybe I don’t want anyone to know what I’m like now. 
“It’d be weirder if you weren’t a little messed up about it.” Tatum hums the words with such casualness I can’t help but laugh, even when Sidney snaps her head to the side to give her a seriously look. “I’m serious, only a total psycho would be able to see that and jump back into things.” 
Sidney sits up a little more, “And you took the SAT a week after it all happened. You’re doing a lot better than most people would be doing.” 
I nod, glad that they’re at least good at pretending that I’m not a total mess. “Yeah, guess I’m just sensitive about it because I freaked out on Noel at that party.” Ugh. That’s been something I’ve been trying really hard to forget. “He probably thinks I’m a total freak.” My eyes squeeze shut at the memory of the party. I had been a total mess. I flip flopped on murder accusations like it was nothing and nearly ran to Casey’s house in the middle of the night. “He’s probably told everyone I’m a total freak.” 
“You don’t know that.” Sidney’s nice for trying to comfort me, but it’s not the best argument. She picks up on my expression because she then immediately tacks on, “Okay, let’s be logical--why would he do that?” 
“Why wouldn’t he after the way I acted?” Ugh. Every guy that knows him is going to think I’m a complete weirdo. This is what I get for trying to date. “And it’s not like he called after. He hasn’t even talked to me in class since.” 
Sidney’s eyebrows draw together briefly before her hands move off of her lap and land on her comforter. She pushes herself to stand. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” 
“Noel’s a total scrub. You’re better off.” Tatum stands too, scratching the back of her arm once. She approaches the bag she abandoned near Sidney’s door, “I brought that eyeshadow I was telling you about. The sparkly, blue one that makes everyone look like Baby Spice.” 
She exhales what’s almost a laugh and I find myself not being able to answer. That does sound like something I’d normally happily go along with. Even though Tatum tends to go for a more subtle look on the day to day, she has a solid makeup collection. Lots of trendy shimmers and bright colors that are fun to swatch and mess around with. But there’s something about the way she said it...breezed away from one topic to this.
And the way Sidney just got up like she was hoping that’d change something. I sit up a little straighter, trying to remember what it’s like to not feel paranoid all the time.
Sidney stops adjusting her hair and messing with her bangs in the mirror. “Or we could hold off on that and go to the video store.” Another change to a topic that normally I’d be all over. “I think Randy’s working, we could bug him a little and get something to watch later.” 
Okay, another thing I’d normally want to do. It has been a minute since I’ve gotten to annoy Randy, and the itch is definitely there. Maybe they’re just trying to be good friends and cheer me up, but they’re spitting out suggestions in a way that feels like they’re really hoping one will stick.
 “Are--do you guys know something about something?” Ugh. If this is my paranoia acting up, I’ll never recover. Why can’t I just go along with things? “I don’t know if it’s me and my head, but you’re acting kinda weird.” 
“No, we’re just--” Sidney’s eyes don’t stay on me, they shift over to Tatum for the briefest second. I blink and almost convince myself I’ve imagined it. “You’re not crazy, we just don’t want to stress you out.” 
I push myself onto my feet. “That is the worst thing you can say to someone you don’t want to stress out.”
Sidney’s eyebrows draw together like she’s worried. I almost feel bad for pushing. “Noel not talking to you isn’t an accident or your fault.” 
“Sid.” I snap my head in Tatum’s direction. She hesitates beneath my stare and gives in with a sigh, “Okay, Noel’s a player who brags about crushing girls’ virginities and breaking up with them the next day. He talks about every girl he’s dated like they’re some kind of car and there are even worse things written about him in the handicap stall of the second floor bathroom.” Tatum pauses, considering how she’s going to word what actually happened. “You’re going through a lot right now and that’s the last thing you need, and we were worried about you, so we talked to Stu and Billy and basically...got Noel to back off.” 
Oh my god. The embarrassment, anger, and shock are all fighting for dominance in my mind, but none of them overpower the other so the feeling is just really fucking bad. All I can picture is Billy and Stu talking to Noel like I’m some little kid or someone with brain damage that can’t make their own choices. 
“You guys suck!” I wipe at my face with the back of my hand, exhaustion cutting into my irritation. “Like really suck. I’m not some child that can’t make her own decisions.” Ugh--I can’t even decide how to react. “It’s not like I was going to marry him or anything.” 
Tatum watches me with a certain level of uncertainty. I don’t think I’ve ever snapped at her or Sidney before. “You’re not exactly a casual dater.” 
“Well--I-I could have been.” It feels awkward, almost reluctant, and I hate myself for it. She’s technically right. I’ve never casually dated, but I’ve never seriously dated either, so it probably wouldn’t kill me. “Either way, it might have been a mistake, but it was my mistake to make.”
“I know, Y/n,” Sidney breathes the words slowly, “We didn’t mean anything by it, it wasn’t like a whole scheme or anything it just--” She’s trying, really trying. “We wanted to help you.” 
I didn’t need help, I was fine. The genuine hint of worry in her tone keeps me from pointing that out. I just stare at her and then at Tatum. Why does it matter anyways? Everyone gets to be normal and do dumb things and have people they’re close with and relationships and all I have is the stupid ‘almost murdered’ label. 
“Why does it matter enough for you to--” I cut myself off, not sure what I’m really asking or what I mean. 
Tatum lets out a small sigh, the sound almost reluctant, maybe a tiny bit annoyed that she even has to talk about this. “Because you’re our friend,” she half shrugs like what she’s saying should have been assumed , “And we love you.” She presses her lips together briefly, “Duh.” 
Sidney throws a look in Tatum’s direction, “Yeah, we love you so much we were willing to risk you being super mad at us because we were worried.” Sidney pauses to take a breath. “We shouldn’t have done it behind your back, and in the future we won’t meddle.”
When I don’t ease, Tatum tacts on, “If it makes things any better, Stu’s normally a total guy’s guy about this kind of thing and even he thinks Noel’s a total creep.” She scratches the back of her wrist, “And those two never care about this stuff, so, boohoo, we all love you.” 
Okay, that doesn’t exactly fix things but it does take the edge off just a tiny bit. They all go way back, and that’s intimidating. And Tatum’s trying to be funny about it, layering on the sarcasm so that I’ll laugh. I hate that it’s almost working. “Well, as long as it’s just everyone being obsessed with me...” The joke feels like a bit of a betrayal, so I tact on something else, “I’m still mad, though.” That feels even weaker. I’m too in my head about all of it and still pretty embarrassed despite the fact that I didn’t do anything. It won’t last forever, but right now, it’s all feeling like too much. The safety of my bedroom feels miles away instead of the few blocks it actually is. “I think I-I’m gonna...” 
“No,” Tatum huffs, “It wasn’t supposed to be a thing.” She tilts her head to the side, silky blonde hair bouncing with the motion. “We haven’t seen you in forever and it was more Stu and Billy’s thing, they’ve been ready to start a thing with him since like the 9th grade.” 
More Stu and Billy’s thing? That almost makes sense for Billy, who Noel casually suggested could be a murderer. But Stu? Noel seemed to like him well enough. Maybe it’s a loyalty thing. I can see Billy and Stu having a bit of package deal friendship. You can’t hate on one without becoming enemy of the other. And with how generally protective Stu seems to be over his friends, it’d make sense. 
But still. I am not a bargaining chip or an excuse or someone that needs their approval on who I do or don’t date.
“Let’s do whatever you want to do and then if you’re still mad, we can invite them over and you can yell at them.” 
Tatum almost smiles, “You’re good at that.” 
That...feels a little weird. “I’m good at yelling?” 
“No, it’s like when you told off that reporter. One minute, you’re normal, but then, when you need to be--bam! You’re super bitch.” 
I laugh, this time it’s genuine. “Super bitch strikes again.” The exit is still close, and some nervous part of me wants to cling to the out. I’m not sure if it’s out of some form of fear or genuine anger or both. But I do want to stay around them a little longer and go take way too long renting a video just to annoy Randy. “If I get to pick what we do, I say we go bother Randy and get a movie. He’s had it easy for too long.” 
Sid half scoffs at my ominous tone. “How do you know?” 
"Knowing whether or not Randy needs to be annoyed is my superpower.” 
----
The video rental is surprisingly empty for early Thursday evening. Schools are out and it’s close enough to the weekend where normally there are more people stopping by to check out what they want to watch in advance. Today doesn’t reflect that. Good to know that my Randy distress radar is still in tact. 
There’s an older man adjusting the latest release aisle, changing out movies. He’s the only employee that I see as I scan over the store and a part of me nearly deflates. Sidney did say she thought Randy would be working and I have no way of knowing. Our friendship has also been a victim to my recent hermit ways, and it’s likely suffered more than my connection with anyone else. At least my other friends are in a couple of my classes or need to walk down the same hallways. Most of Randy’s classes aren’t near mine and we only share a study hall, which he often uses as an excuse to leave early in order to get to work. Meaning that most days I only see him during lunch. 
The door to the back swings open and behind a cart of VHS tapes, there’s a familiar face. Randy. I find myself smiling as I approach the counter he’s coming up from behind. 
“Excuse me,” he glances up, a bit of surprise causing him to raise his eyebrows, “I was wondering if you have a copy of Child’s Play 2, but not the original, the extended cut with the alternate ending, Sorority House Massacre, uncut, duh, and/or Fox’s original version of Clueless.” 
Randy blinks, unfazed by my bullshit. “I’ve been around you too long to fall for that last one.” 
I almost laugh. I can’t believe Randy remembers my rant about the developmental nightmare that was the original Clueless pitch. Fox wanted a TV show, but they got a movie instead, and that took way too long for no reason. I had talked about it a lot longer than I meant to the other day at school. “You caught it.” 
“Decoys are always more obvious than they seem to the person making them.” It feels like some kind of movie rule reference, vague enough for me to get how it applies but not so random I feel the need to ask. “So are you here to rent something or make my job harder?” 
“A little of both.” Turning my head, I gesture to where Sidney and Tatum are. They’re in the same aisle, backs to each other as they scan through options. “We wanted something to watch and Sidney said she thought you’d be working today.” I tap my nails against the counter. “And I had this feeling that things have probably been too easy for you.”
Randy’s lips turn upwards but it feels a little different than a smile. “Yeah, nothing but peace since you...” 
“Became a total paranoid PTSD recluse?” 
He half shrugs, “Jack Torrence.” I roll my eyes, a little relieved that Randy’s joking about it instead of pressing. It’s part of the reason he’s a good friend to have. “You’re feeling better, though, right?” 
Spoke a little too soon, but that’s an okay question. It’s not invasive, it’s just an offer. “Getting there.” 
Randy nods, taking in the answer for what feels like a little too long for two words. Maybe he’s feeling the honesty of what does seem like a cop out answer. I’m not over it by any means, but feeling better is a process that’s starting to work. “That’s good.” He pushes the cart slightly before pulling back to place. “You’re good.” Randy lets out a breath, tugging and pushing the cart again. “I mean--deserve to feel good and normal.” 
I grin at the stumble in words. It’s rare that we’re openly nice to each other instead of acting like little kids after one pulls the other’s hair. “I get what you mean.” 
His lips part, but no words come out. Randy’s eyebrows draw together as his mouth shuts. What is--a firm touch on my shoulder snaps the question out of me. My head turns and some kind of comment about being rude to people in line rises and immediately falls back down. Stu! And then I remember my earlier conversation and it feels a lot more like: Oh. Stu. 
It’s such an instant flip that for a second I don’t react. Stu pulls his arm around me in a quick attempt at a side hug, but I’m so stiff it’s more like being shoved into him. “Look who’s here.” 
Bumping into him is by no means new to me. Small town, same friends, some overlap in hobbies. But this time it’s different. I promised myself that Stu and Billy would get scolded for meddling as soon as possible, but I didn’t expect run into him in public. It’s like being a parent with a child that’s misbehaving in church. You can’t do anything but redirect until you get to the car. 
Stu drops his arm back to his side. “Thought you were doing something with Tatum and Sid?” 
“They’re over there,” I gesture vaguely with a tilt of my head, trying to seem casual. I might not be willing to get into the whole Noel thing in front of Randy and the suburban mom trying to settle a dispute between two kids who can’t decide which movie to get, but Stu probably is. “I wouldn’t look too closely, girls’ night movies might make you sick.” 
Stu misses by just a second. He does wrinkle his nose in a display of the kind of good humor I’d expect from him, but it doesn’t feel as natural. There’s nothing wrong about his reaction, it just feels lacking. Missing his usual brand of energy. “I have no issue with girls’ night movies.” 
Clearly, I’ve been spending too much time with him because I get the joke instantly. Now it’s my turn to cringe. “Why do I even talk to you?” 
“Because, buggsie, your life would be so boring without me.” The nickname does make my expression warp, but this time it’s more like trying to keep in a laugh than anything else. “If your only movie influence was Randy, you’d be a lot less likable.” 
Randy sighs. “Keep telling yourself that.”
The words are just a little too sharp. They’re good enough friends in some senses. Not two I’d guess hang alone together, but I like to think at the end of the day they like co-existing. That doesn’t mean they don’t bicker from time to time in a way that feels different than when Randy and I fight like little kids or Stu and I fight like an old married couple too lazy to get divorced. 
“No need to be bitter, dude,” Stu’s hand is back around my shoulder, “I gave you a whole five minutes.” That was a weird thing to say. Random, and not in a fun sort of way, but before I can ask, Stu’s pulling me forward. “You want to help me sneak up on Tay?” 
I throw Randy a look that hopefully communicates my level of confusion and some sort of see you later. “Uh...” Stu’s already turning like I’ve answered, “Sure?” 
When we’re finally closer to the shelves than the counter, Stu lets me go, his hand sliding down my arm a little before retracting. “So you go up to Tatum, talk to her, keep her distracted, and I’ll sneak up behind her.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He’s moving along so quickly and casually, but I’m still fixed on that last comment to Randy. It wasn’t banter-y and Randy didn’t say anything back, which feels a little weird. “That last thing you said, the five minute thing?”
Stu barely pauses, head tilting in a way that feels confused. “Oh. Gave him five minutes to make a move, but you know Randy, not a closer.”
It’s said casually enough that I could think Stu’s being serious, but there’s also a hum of sarcasm in there. And what he’s saying does feel too unrealistic to not be a joke. Randy and I are completely platonic, there’s no way he sees me like that. Plus, I’d like to think that if a guy I’m around that regularly liked me in any sort of way, I’d have at least somewhat picked up on it. 
“Shut up,” I shove Stu’s arm, “You’re not funny.”
He holds his hands up in defense briefly. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” 
It’s said casual enough that I’m finally given a second to think. The nagging voice at the back of my head is finally given the opportunity to remind me that I’m supposed to be mad at him. Or, at the very least, irritated until I can tell him off for trying to make decisions for me behind my back. 
“Interesting that you mention shooting you, be--” 
“Ouch,” Stu hums, a little too pointedly, “Thought we were all good, angel.” I press my lips together, staring at the ground to avoid giving him anything to latch onto. “I’ve been on best behavior. Minding my business, just here to check something out.”
I stop, a motion I think is subtle enough but Stu picks up on it immediately. He turns and grabs my wrist. The contact is sudden enough to force me to look up. Stu’s watching me, his expression seems innocent, and not in that pretend way either. There’s a hint of confusion behind his eyes. I’m not sure I entirely believe it, but I think it’s possible that what I’m mad about isn’t coming to mind. He has no reason to think I’d know about it. 
His hold is firm and oddly warm and bordering on distracting. 
“Stu,” Tatum’s cheery voice snaps the two of us out of our stand off.
He pulls away quickly, eyes falling on Tatum. “There’s my girl.” Stu pulls her into a hug and gives her a quick kiss. “Y/n was going to help me sneak up and surprise you, but she’s in a mood.” 
Ugh. Stu has a way of dismissing any type of reaction that doesn’t work for him as me being in a mood or pouting. “I am not in a mood.” 
“Give her a break.” Stu’s hands are still on her. “Y/n found out about the Noel thing.”My gaze instinctually shifts back to Stu. His easygoing grin falters. Tatum smiles at him with a coy look that I guess could be interpreted as some kind of apology. “Don’t get moody, she pulled it out of us.” 
It takes him a second, but Stu eventually eases off of her. He doesn’t look as content as before, but his expression hints at nothing else besides casual annoyance. “She can’t be too mad if she’s still hanging around you and Sid.” 
“I got to tell them both off already.” 
Stu turns, something smug tugging his face into an almost smile. It’s infuriating. “If that’s what you’re into, babe.” 
Tatum scoffs and halfheartedly smacks his shoulders. “You’ve been around long enough that I don’t have to apologize for him anymore, right?”
“Right.” 
Stu lets out a breath, “Geez, you two sure act like you love me.” 
I am so not in the mood to say anything nice about Stu in front of him. “Maybe if you minded your business a little more--” 
“Okay,” Tatum pushes herself into the budding argument and looks at me. “Save your energy for when there’s two of them.” Good point. If I yelled at Stu and Billy separately every time they messed up, I’d be yelling constantly. Tatum’s attention shifts back to Stu, “Is he around? Sid’s around the corner.” 
Stu shakes his head once. “Nah, it’s still early and he only said he might call. He’s been a little out of it.” 
Billy’s out of it? And out of it enough to not be around Stu for once? It’s not like they’re literally attached at the hip but a weekend evening where both me and their girlfriends are busy and they’re not hanging out together? That in itself hints at something being wrong. 
I think through the last I heard from Billy, but nothing particularly stands out. He might have briefly mentioned his dad but not in a concerning way. Not in a way that indicated he’d have to spend extra time with him or anything.
Billy has also been weirdly absent. No recent warning-less appearances at my window. Has he been going through something and I’m just too caught up in my personal issues to notice? God, this serial killer nonsense has turned me into a terrible friend. 
“He okay?” 
Stu’s eyes flit up to meet mine. “You might want to hold off on the scolding, but last time I checked in, yeah. Just all angsty, you know how Billy gets.” 
I blink. Last time he checked in. Maybe I’m idealizing their friendship too much, but I’ve always felt like they were looking out for each other. Closer than Stu’s current reaction warrants. Or maybe I’m overthinking things and Billy’s just taking some time. He doesn’t seem the type to want to talk about fuzzy things like feelings. 
“We were going to ask you guys to come over, but if he’s not up for it, that’s okay,” Tatum says, “You can still come by later, but I think you should check in on him.” 
Now I’m starting to feel antsy. Like I should go check in on Billy, but I don’t even know what that’d look like. The realization that I’ve never been to Billy’s house hits hard and with no warning. Whenever we all hang out, it’s at my place or someone else’s, and when it’s the three of us we go to Stu’s and sometimes my house. The thought rubs me the wrong way, like this one thing is pulling on the threads of our friendship. 
He’s one of my best friends and I can’t even say I know what his room looks like. 
“I’ll probably stop by soon.” 
That makes me frown. Probably. Soon. 
“Oh, that reminds me.” Tatum’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Dewey wanted me to give you a head’s up that he’ll be trying to meet with you soon. He wants to go over some....stuff.” 
Ugh, this again. I can’t escape it. “Yeah. He has my number, Dewey can call whenever, but the warning was nice.” 
Stu shifts back like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “He wants to talk to her again?” He’s more offended than I am. “What? It’s not like anything’s changed.” 
Tatum shrugs, “I don’t know. Dewey doesn’t give me the details.” 
“Unless they have new evidence, they shouldn’t be dragging her back into it just because they don’t know shit.”
I should tell him to drop it. That this is my business and maybe it’s time we establish some firmer boundaries, but I can’t get the words to form. The whole thing feels hypocritical. I should be annoyed, but I’m not because he’s saying what I can’t. 
It’s brief, but for a second it almost feels like Stu might be the closest to someone that gets what it feels like. The irony is insane, considering that there’s no way that empathy’s his strong suit. 
“I don’t know. It’s not my thing.” 
Tatum is understandably a little defensive, which is fair. Especially when considering our earlier conversation. This isn’t fair to her. “It’s okay.” The words feel like a flat cop out compared to Stu’s instinctual defense. “It’s not Tatum’s fault and Dewey was really nice about it last time--” 
“Last time? You mean when they ambushed you at the hospital before they let you take visitors?” 
My stomach knots at that. The feeling of waking up there, confused and unaware of what I’d just been through and then being made to feel like I was completely alone while Billy and Stu were waiting outside for me. “That’s not his fault.” A dry defense. “It sucks, but it’s for the greater good and it won’t take long.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or him. “It’s okay.” 
Stu half sighs. “I’m going to grab my movie and head out, maybe stop by Billy’s.” He tuns to give Tatum a brief goodbye kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you soon, Y/n. Make sure you get to yell at me before it builds too much.” 
At that, I roll my eyes but still wave him off. 
---- 
My eyes are on the phone again, staring down the extension on my nightstand like it’s keeping things from me. 
Ugh. This is ridiculous. I snap my attention back to the homework in front of me. Some extra credit for my math class. It’s an attempt at damage control because the test I had to take the morning after being attacked by a serial killer is seriously bringing down my GPA. Too bad calc has never been my strong suit. The distraction that is my inability to move on from what Stu said is definitely not helping. 
Even after Sidney, Tatum, and I left the video store, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Stu’s uncertainty and what Billy could be going through. Maybe Stu was playing down how much he knows because Billy didn’t want anyone else knowing. I could see that. Hope for that since the thought of Billy locking himself in his room and dealing with whatever it is completely alone tugs at my heart.  
I could call. He might not answer, but that’s okay. It might make me feel better to just do something and it’s not like I’ve never called him. There’s also the more extreme option of showing up to his place. I’ve never been to his house,  but he’s pointed it out before. Even though I physically could get there, that feels like too much. If I’ve never been over, it’s probably for a reason.
There’s also Stu. I could call him to ask about Billy. He’s more likely to tell me about how Billy’s doing than Billy. But that also feels weird for no reason. Again, it’s not like I never call them. 
I glance over at the digital clock on my desk. 7:56. Okay--it’s not too late. Not weirdly late. 
I stand before I can think about it too much, walking over to the phone. If it’s going to be distracting, I should just get it over with. Maybe having some kind of answer will make it easier to focus on things.
The phone rings about three times before there’s an answer. “Yeah?” 
“Hey.” Okay, that one word feels super awkward for no reason. “Hi--it’s um--” Be more normal. It’s just Stu. “It’s Y/n.” 
A quick breath that feels more like a laugh than it sounds. “Yeah, I figured that out.” Great, now he’s making fun of me. “I also know why you’re calling.” 
“Really?” 
I can feel his amusement over the phone. “You can’t stop thinking about me and want me to come over.”
I snort as soon as the words wash over me. What was I expecting? “You figured it out. This is a booty call.” 
Stu sort of laughs. “Yeah? I can be over in five.”
Pressing my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing, I sit up a little more. “Loser.” I reach over for a pillow and pull it on to my lap. “Okay, so actual reason, I was trying to do something for calc, so obviously my mind was wandering and thinking about literally anything else.” 
“Obviously.” 
My fingers brush the fluff of the pillow’s exterior. I brush the strands flat and then back into little spikes of hair. “And at some point, I started thinking about what you said at the video store. About Billy.”
There’s a brief silence, and then another one of Stu’s breathy-accidental-laughs. “Aw, you’re worried.” Ugh. “That’s cute, angel, I’ll make sure to tell him.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport.” 
My nose wrinkles at that, nails smothering my pillow’s layer of fluff. “Is he okay or not?” 
For a second, the only thing coming from the other side of the phone is the general static of someone’s movement. “Bossy.” I roll my eyes, but before I can tell him to spare me tonight, Stu continues, “Why didn’t you just call Billy?” 
It’s a fair question, which only bugs me more. “Because there’s no way to call someone and ask if they’re okay based on a passing comment without sounding insane.” 
I pinch the thin hairs of my pillows between my thumb and index finger. “And it’s less insane this way?”
Feels like it. “Kinda, yeah.” 
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Billy’s fine, he’ll be back to his usual levels of brooding soon. Promise.” I don’t know what to make of that, so I just focus on my pillow. “It might help if you called him tomorrow. Let him sleep it off for a little longer.”
That’s probably a good suggestion. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” My eyes drift back to the still open textbook on my desk. My mom is out with Wells so I can’t even use her as an excuse to not be doing this right now. I briefly bite my tongue to give myself a second to think through what I’m considering. “You um--are you doing anything right now?” Even more awkward. Great. “I could really use an excuse to not work on calc right now.” 
“Now it’s a booty call.” 
Being friends with him is so annoying sometimes. “I hate you.”
“Ouch,” a brief shuffling before he speaks again, “You know I love distracting you--” I roll my eyes. “But tonight’s--” 
“Shit, is Tatum over or something?” A hand flies over my mouth. Of course I’d call at a time where he had someone over and be a total mess. “I’m sorry.” 
Some more static before a response, “No, it’s--” He sighs once. “Billy’s here and he’s--” Oh. My embarrassment is definitely doubling, but there’s still some relief there. At least he’s not alone. “Maybe you should come over, help cheer him up.”
“You’re kind of an asshole for not mentioning that earlier.” I push the throw pillow off my lap and let my back fall onto my cocoon of larger pillows. “And it’s fine, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm him or anything.” 
“No,” Stu’s answer is quick but feels a little flat. Almost worried. “You--I think it’d be good for him to see you.” There’s still a bit of hesitance there, like Stu’s not telling me the full story. Maybe he can’t. “We rented a few movies and I think I might still have those sour gummy things you like.” 
I really do love sour gummies. “Is Billy okay with it?” 
“It’s my house, bug.” When I don’t say anything, Stu sighs, “Kidding. C’mon, he loves you.” I don’t know why I’m debating so much, it was my idea, but now it feels a little intrusive of me. “And we’re a lot more fun than calculus.” 
“Not a high bar you’re setting there.” Stu pointedly scoffs. “Okay--if you’re sure Billy’s okay with it, I’ll be over in a few.”
“Need to go ask your mommy?” 
I’m already pushing myself to my feet. “Shut up.” An ‘at least I have a parent that gives a shit’ nearly slips out and I just barely manage to bite my tongue. That’d be like reacting to a playful shove with a punch to the face. Besides, my mom’s not a factor right now. She and Wells are out to dinner with some friends. She left me with a 20 to order pizza and maybe rent a movie. “I can still not go.” 
Stu chooses to ignore the (empty) threat, “See you soon, babe.” 
I push open the door of my closet and search through it as quickly as possible. It’s not like I need to get dressed up to go to Stu’s, but my stained pajama pants from the ninth grade and practically threadbare tank top aren’t things I wear out of the house. Especially now that fall is making evenings a lot chillier. “I don’t get our friendship.”
“I keep you supplied with those awful sour gummies.”
I smile despite myself, grabbing something out of my closet. “That explains it.” Bending down, I pick up another article of clothing. “See you soon.” 
----
“There she is.”
Stu pulls me into a hug before I can think to react. He’s always so warm and everywhere. I think it has to do with his smell. It sounds weird but he’s so consistent about it. Enough expensive laundry detergent to drown out most of the usual teen boy body spray musk to a level that’s tolerable and sharpens the slight hint of weed that seems to cling to him. Even that is balanced. Subtle unless you know to think about it. But now it’s a little more overwhelming than usual...fresher. 
Like he just finished a joint. I stare at him for a second and while his eyes seem mostly normal, there’s a bit of a red tinge there. If it wasn’t for the smell of weed, I wouldn’t have noticed. “Are you high?” 
The corner of Stu’s mouth pulls up into an almost smile. He’s amused. “That’s a fun way to greet me.” I give him a pointed look. “Mmm...maybe a little.” Stu extends an arm, halfheartedly punching me in the shoulder. Instead of dropping his arm like usual, Stu relaxes his fist in order to squeeze the top of my arm. “What gave me away, angel?”
“With you, it’s always a safe guess.” He sort of frowns, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Kidding. You smell like a dispensary.” 
Stu squeezes my arm a little harder. “Judgy.” He tilts his head slightly. “And here I was going to offer you some.” 
“No one likes me when I’m high.” That’s true enough. I get all paranoid and clingy. Randy won’t even smoke around me if we’re alone just in case. 
He half scoffs. “Nah, that’s just for people that don’t know how to handle you.” 
Handle me? I’m about to give him some sarcastic answer, but when my eyes meet his, the reaction freezes over. He’s staring at me with a concentration that feels more prominent than his hand on my arm. I don’t know why, but I feel the need the redirect and break the silence. “Where’s Billy?” 
“In my room.” Stu swings a hand around my shoulder and starts guiding me forward. “C’mon, he’ll be happy to see you.” 
I should shrug Stu off of me, but it feels easier to just let him. Besides, there are other things to worry about. From the vagueness Stu’s been handling mentions of Billy with, I half expect him to be in a straight jacket or something. “He--he does know I’m here, right?” 
The only answer I get is Stu placing a hand on his bedroom door once we reach it. He releases me to push open it open. “Hey, feeling any better?” Billy doesn’t get a chance to reply before Stu continues, “Because I brought you a present.” 
Weird...and kind of objectifying, but in a weird way. It’s not so much the words, but the way he’s saying them. This is definitely an ambush. Stu pushes the door open all the way before I can really react. I still make a point of smacking his arm. “Don’t make it weird.” 
I turn my head towards Stu’s room. Billy is in there, sitting with his back against the headboard and he’s looking at me but there’s little recognition. It’s more like he’s seeing through me. I want to assume it’s part of some kind of side effect of being high, but I can’t quite get myself to dismiss it as something so casual.
Any fight directed at Stu evaporates into the air and morphs into this weird veil of tension. Not good or bad. Just heavy and full, bleeding through the room and into the hall where I’m still standing. 
“Hi,” it feels like an attempt at cutting through the harshness, “I heard you were feeling bad so I thought I’d come back and make you feel worse.” 
Billy’s eyebrows draw together slightly, like he’s considering how to react. He settles on a, “Yeah?” It feels smaller than the way he usually is. 
I swallow my instinctual reaction. “Yeah--things aren’t looking too good in Iraq and everyone’s getting too comfortable with nuclear bombs.” 
The corner of his mouth turns up into an almost smile. It’s not quite there, but the thawing of the icy layer behind his gaze is cracking. “Anything else?”
“I still think the Princess Diana divorce is kind of a bummer.” 
Stu sighs dramatically. “Of course you’re on her side.” 
“There is no other side, Charles is the worst.” 
Stu walks fully into his room and practically flops onto his bed. His head hits Billy’s calf and Billy throws him a dirty look before adjusting. “Charles is next in line for the throne. That entitles him to all the girls he wants. That’s just history.”
I wrinkle my nose and halfheartedly glare at him. “He’s also probably inbred.”
Billy sits up a little further, reaching for what I’m assuming is a joint. “Definitely inbred.”
The small vouch of support is strangely easing.
Stu tilts his head to look at me briefly. “You two deserve each other.”
“Don’t pout.” Maybe not my smartest joke, but it’s too easy to pass up on. 
He props his head up just to glare at me. “I can still kick you out.”
I roll my eyes and Billy wordlessly extends what he’s been smoking. Stu reaches for it absentmindedly and Billy moves his arm away. “You need to slow down.” 
Stu doesn’t protest, which has to be a byproduct of his easy high. I’m so distracted by that it takes a second for it to click. If Billy isn’t handing off the joint to Stu, he’s trying to give it to me...the person who’s going to be around their mom and a cop before the night’s over. 
“Can’t tonight.” I’m so going to get bullied for this, “My mom would know immediately, and then she’d kill all three of us.” 
Billy sits up a little more, not fully taking his hand back but relaxing it a little. Stu drops his head back down, accidentally landing on Billy’s leg. I suppress a laugh when Billy lazily shrugs Stu off. It doesn’t work, because Stu still glares at me as he curls into himself slightly. “You could stay over, sleep it off.”
Maybe Stu’s more high than I thought. I take a step forward, feeling awkward about the distance. “I don’t see how that helps the my mom killing us all thing.” 
“You could call her from my home phone, tell her you’re staying over at Sidney’s or Tay’s.” Stu doesn’t wait for my response before stretching out an arm in my direction. “Come here.” 
It feels a little bit like a trap, but at the same time, standing this close to the door is probably weirder than anything Stu’s going to try. I walk forward and sit down on the edge of his bed. Stu smiles lazily and adjusts so that his legs are on my lap. They’re long. He’s basically an arachnid. 
With Stu, a firm approach is usually best, but this seems harmless enough so I don’t kick him off of me. “You’re like a spider.”
He laugh-scoffs, stretching even further. “Like a daddy long legs.”
There’s a weird attempt at sultriness in his words. It’s so stupid I can’t hep the terrible laugh that comes out. “Shut up. You’re so gross.” Now I do want him off of me. He won’t move so I try dragging myself back a little. All that does is make me bump into Billy’s arm. “Sorry.” 
Dismissing my apologetic look with a short wave of the hand still holding the joint, Billy sits up even more, angling himself towards me. “You should be.” It’s sarcastic, but still oddly flat, like Billy’s putting work into being a part of the conversation.
Stu, clearly feeling forgotten, softly kicks his leg. “Your sobriety’s bringing old Billy Boy back down.” 
I lean back, ignoring the way my fingers brush against Billy’s. “I promise me being high would only depress him more.” 
“I like you high,” Billy muses flatly, “You get all jumpy.” 
I roll my eyes, trying to straighten to pull my hand back but Billy doesn’t let me get that far. His hand turns over and pulls his fingers between my own. It’s a casual enough attempt to pull me back into place, but his eyes are so quick to meet mine. There’s something almost nervous about the shift, and vaguely familiar. An uncertain, begrudging request for reassurance I’ve come to associate with people going through some sort of depressive episode. 
“That was one time,” I mumble, “And it was because you guys are assholes and didn’t tell me that it was extra strong.” 
Stu’s leg moves again, “It wasn’t extra strong, we just didn’t pace you.” 
“Either way--assholes.” 
Billy moves his thumb along my knuckles. “We’ll be nice this time.” He takes a deliberate hit and exhales the smoke in a way that lingers. I can feel the smell of it, a paranoid part of me thinking it’s already caught up in my hair and clothes and skin. Like my mom will just be able to tell already. Maybe it is already too late. 
And it’d upset her. She’s already worried enough about how I’m handling all the killer stuff, if she thinks I’m acting out and smoking she’ll probably freak. This also wouldn’t be the first time I did something like this and didn’t tell her...or the first time I stayed over at a friend’s house to sleep something off. 
It’s also objectively nice to be around them. Also, Billy’s whole slightly off thing is something I’ve definitely seen before. The familiarity finally clicks into place, a few memories of my mother from when I was younger. Bad ones, days in which things slipped through the cracks before my mom was diagnosed and started managing that part of herself.
“Even if you don’t smoke, you should call your mom...stay over.” Billy gets the words out stiffly, like some invisible force was trying to shove them back down his throat. “Keep me from being alone with that one.”
Stu lets out a sound that’s sounds a lot like a tired “fuck off”. The casual disapproval makes me smile.
Billy takes another, much shorter hit. I let myself observe the process. The way the smoke goes in, how he holds it in, and finally the way he forces it out. Billy wordlessly turns the joint around in a silent offering. I give in with an exhale and reach over. Billy doesn’t let me get that far, moving so that his fingers are almost to my mouth. I part my lips and let him hold the joint there as I inhale. He doesn’t give me long before taking it back. He runs his thumb along my knuckles. “Hold.” I struggle, but follow through. “Good. Now breathe.” 
I let it out with a slight cough.
“There ya go,” Stu mumbles, patiently dragging his leg up my thigh. “You’ll feel better.” I wish I had more experience with smoking outside of them. If I did, I’d have a reference point to tell me if Stu’s weed is actually extra strong or not. I’m sure what he gets is considered good shit, since he definitely has the money and tolerance. “You should call your mom before you get all giggly.” 
I openly frown. “I do not get ‘giggly’.” 
“Yeah, you do.” 
I’m not in an argumentative mood. Maybe it’s the atmosphere or the weed is already starting to cloud my judgement. I should call my mom, though. It hasn’t been that long since I left, which means she’s probably still out with Wells. It’ll be easier to just leave a message on the machine. She always checks when she gets home. 
Ever since the first incident, my mom keeps a cell phone on her that’s always on, but it’s still weird to both of us. I don’t have the number fully memorized yet, it’s written on a note held to the fridge by a magnet back home...a few blocks away. The cell phone isn’t exclusively emergency, but my mom doesn’t love portable technology. She thinks they’re tacky and breed rudeness.
I tap Stu’s leg, “Up.” 
Surprisingly enough, Stu listens, letting me go. I let go of Billy’s hand and reach for the extension on Stu’s nightstand. I quickly dial my number and leave a flat message. Staying over at Sid’s, have fun but not too much fun, love you and see you tomorrow. 
In a moment of straight forward association, I almost went with telling my mom I was staying at Tatum’s, but I have to talk to Dewey soon and my mom will probably be there and that felt like a potential loose end. 
Stu half snorts, “Love you and see you tomorrow, mom.” 
I shove Stu’s shoulder. “Shut up.” 
“Have fun but not too much fun,” Billy mumbles, a lot more subdued but just as teasing. 
Rolling my eyes, I move back to the edge of the bed where I was sitting before. “It’s an inside joke.” 
Stu leans forward and pinches my cheek. “That’s adorable.” 
The patronization doesn’t sit well and my eyelids feel heavier than they did a second ago. “I hate you guys.” 
“Clearly,” Stu breathes, reaching over and taking the joint from Billy. “Oh, Billy, forgot to tell you, Y/n’s supposed to be mad at us.” Billy tilts his head a little too far to one side like that’s news enough for him to be curious. “Tay told her about the Noel thing.” 
Billy feels imbalanced, head leaning one way and spine straight. His eyes harden over again. “Really?” He takes my hand again, this time a lot less softly. “Over that asshole?” I let him run his knuckles over my hand again, even though this time it feels a lot less soothing. “If none of your friends like a guy, that usually says something about the guy.” 
I’m sure there’s some kind of joke I could spin. Maybe about where he learned that one from. Get that from Cosmo? But the bordering on defensive look behind Billy’s eyes is overbearing and messing with my head. Stu is seriously in danger for bringing this up right now. 
“It’s not about the guy,” I manage, “It’s about...” All the points I had feel a lot less concrete under Billy’s scrutiny...or maybe it’s the weed. Or both. I swallow, dropping my gaze to my lap as I try to really think. Okay, it’s definitely both. “Timing and boundaries.” It feels fractured. “Like even if a guy totally sucks, you can’t go over my head about it.” 
Stu lets out a sigh, dropping his head onto one of his pillow’s. I glare openly. This is all his fault. Why bring it up now? Billy was just starting to act a little more like himself. “I don’t know what you see in him.” Ugh. It’s like he’s not even hearing me. “Especially with the way he talked about Casey.” 
That last part hits its intended goal. Stu’s staring at the ceiling, so I can’t see his expression, but he seems to take my silence as a win. I don’t know Noel as well as they do, but he did talk about Casey at that party and it wasn’t exactly kind. 
I squeeze what I can grab of the comforter like that will tether me here. It half works but it does nothing to ease the tightening in my chest. The memories mix uneasily with the start of my high. The dip of panic doesn’t suit the way my body wants to feel and it all blends together in a way that leaves me on edge and a little nauseous. 
There’s the sound of someone moving, but I barely pick up on it. Billy smacks the side of Stu’s head. “Too much, asshole.”
Stu throws Billy an offended look before craning his neck to look at me. I must look as off as I feel, because Stu does sit up. “Shit,” he pushes himself back, “Sorry. I didn’t think--” 
“You never think.” The words are pointed, but not completely angry. If I was feeling any better, I would’ve laughed. He slowly reaches forward and I don’t stop him from prying my fingers away from the sheets. “Your trip going a little bad?” I nod. “Don’t think about it.” Easier said than done. “You could end up like Stu the one time he smoked too much while watching one of those old horror movies where the special effects are basically held up by a string.” 
That cracks at the panic a little. “What did he do?” 
“Convinced himself that it was real and we were the ones that were off.” 
I almost laugh. “Actually?” 
“Shut up,” Stu sighs, a little bitter but not actually mad. 
Billy ignores him, “Actually.” He turns my hand over carefully before running his fingers over the thin scar on my palm and up my wrist. “So you’re already doing better than him.”
For a second, I let myself study Billy. The wisps of hair falling forward, the slight pinch between his eyebrows, his focused expression. Billy almost always holds himself with a certain tenseness. Whether that’s force of habit or natural to him, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why he gets along so well with Stu. They balance each other. 
“Are you...” I don’t know where I’m going with this. “Are you feeling any better?” 
His expression briefly clouds, pulling into something much more blank. He drops his gaze and for a second I feel like I might need to take it back. “Yeah--yeah, don’t worry.” Again, easier said than done. Billy clears his throat almost immediately after, like that will erase the fact that he actually responded. 
“Good.” It doesn’t sound overly positive, but he hasn’t convinced me. “I’ve missed you, a little.” That feels a lot more real.
Billy angles his head downwards, almost smiling. “Only a little?” 
“It’s not like you haven’t been around at all.” He traces an invisible line up my wrist. “Maybe more than a little, anyway.” 
“Aw,” Stu hums, his hand finding a place on my back. He leans forward and rests his head on my shoulder. “You two are adorable.” I’m not really given a chance to answer before Stu lets out a sigh that I feel against my neck, “Don’t be mad.” 
Honestly, I’m not feeling any anger. I’m a little annoyed at him and frustrated that I’m still not normal. That’s all there is. It’s too tiring to turn into anger. “’M not mad,” it feels like a confession, “A little annoyed at you, but not more than usual.” 
He breathes a sarcastic, “Haha” into my shoulder. 
With no warning, I start to unweave myself from them. I think they’re too confused to ask until I’m actually standing. 
“Where are you going, angel?” 
I don’t really know, so I can’t really answer. Stu’s room isn’t super familiar. I’ve been in here a couple times, most of them brief. I take a second to really take in the space. A lot of posters, the ones that aren’t directly bloody movie posters feature practically naked women and some combine the two. It fits him.
“Getting a feel,” I decide on, “You can tell a lot about a person based on their room.” 
Stu moves to the edge of his bed, grinning at my focus. “Really?” 
I move to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. “Mhm.” 
“You’re not going to like anything you find in there.” He places a hand on the front of drawer but doesn’t stop me. 
It takes me a second too long to realize what he’s getting at. By then, I’ve already taken in a cover of a magazine with a model that’s wearing even less than the girls on the posters, a box of condoms, a surprisingly neatly stacked set of polaroids, an old deck of cards, and a few random odds and ends all crammed in there. 
My nose wrinkles, but I’m too distracted by the polaroids to make fun of him. I can only see the top one, but it’s innocent enough, an accidental snapshot that sort of looks like a blurry person on a couch.  
“Polaroids?” I pick them out of the drawer and flip to the next one. A small lump that looks like a cat in Stu’s living room. Weird, I’ve never seen one in his house and he’s never mentioned having a pet. Maybe these are old pictures. Before I can snoop any further, Stu pulls the stack of photos away from me. “You’re no fun.” 
He rolls his eyes as he moves the first photo back into place. “You’re nosy.” I don’t say anything because I’m not so high that I’m clueless. This is a little weird of me, but I can’t help the impulse. “What if the next picture had been me naked?” 
“You take naked pictures of yourself and keep them in your nightstand?” 
Stu intentionally ignores my laughter. “You don’t need pictures for that, baby, you can see the real thing.” 
My laughter picks up again. “Yeah? Let’s go right now.” 
At that, Stu does crack a bit of a smile. “Let’s make Billy strip first.” 
“Deal,” I mumble through another laugh. 
Billy drops his head onto a pillow, “Fuck off.” 
I turn my attention back to the card deck and dig them out with my nail. “Any naked pictures hidden in here or am I good?” 
“No promises.” With that as my warning, I begin to shuffle the cards absentmindedly. “Why? You wanna play strip poker?” 
Ignoring him, I move back to my previous position on the edge of the bed. “Think I’m good.” 
I drag the nail of my thumb along the edge of the cards and focus on the sound of them. Billy nudges my knee with his. I look up as he extends his arm, silently asking for the cards. I hand them over without thinking much about it. Billy begins to actually shuffle in a way that would fit Vegas. 
He has to notice my mesmerized stare, but he says nothing. “Do you actually know how to play anything?”
My mom briefly worked at a casino when I was in the first grade and she’d have to bring me in sometimes, but I retained nothing. “Not really.” 
That starts something. A process that should have been short and easy. Billy trying to explain different versions of poker and Stu trying to trick me, but only sometimes so I couldn’t know to for sure not trust him. It’s a mess of laughter and a refreshing lack of angst. Every once in awhile, someone insists that a loser has to take a drag from a joint, so everyone’s progressively getting worse. I’m pretty sure Stu’s cheating somehow, but I have no proof and I’m too out of it to get any. 
It’s so lighthearted and genuinely fun that I’m fighting against the heaviness of my eyelids. It can’t be that late, but I’m already starting to feel drowsy. I’ve finally been given good cards, so I really need to get it together. “I won.”  
Stu scoffs, eyebrows drawing together as he eyes the cards I just set down. “No--that’s not--” 
“I won,” a yawn cuts my sentence in half, “Don’t be a loser about it.” 
Stu picks up all the cards, ignoring my protests. He’s already mixed me up a couple of times. “I can let you have this one, because you’re--” 
“Because you have to.” 
Billy turns his ankle, tapping his foot against my leg. “Don’t be mean about it.” 
That was nowhere near mean. “Dramatic, both of you.” 
Stu’s mouth falls open in a mock gasp as he continues to gather cards. I don’t know what he’s doing until he drops them all back into his drawer and shuts it. He then walks towards his dresser, pulls out a T-shirt, and tosses it in my direction. “After all I’ve done for you.” 
I pick up the T-shirt and fold it onto my lap but make no move to go to the bathroom to change. “I don’t want to go to sleep.” 
“You’re half asleep already.” Billy ignores the dirty look I give him. “Just change in case you fall asleep.” 
Stupid voice of reason. I scratch the back of my wrist and decide to give in. If for no other reason than the fact that Stu’s shirt is almost weirdly soft. Rich people must have access to different kinds of fabric. I reluctantly get up and find Stu’s bathroom.
I change quickly and take a second to make sure Stu gave me a long enough T-shirt. Thankfully, he did, so I don’t have to feel extra awkward about anything. I fold my clothes and bring them back with me. 
“Looks nice on you, babe.” 
Drowsiness hits harder without any distractions. I blink, unsure on how to respond. Stu’s always a flirt with everyone, but it feels a little weird to react to it while standing in his room at night in one of his T-shirts. “It’s the rich guy cotton.”
The corner of his mouth turns up. “And those legs.” 
“Shut up.” 
Billy turns onto his side, fluffing his pillow. “Go to sleep before he gets worse.” 
“Yeah.” The two of them look comfortable, all settled. “I’ll crash on the couch.” 
Stu props his head up on an elbow. “You don’t wanna do that. Living room’s creepy at night and you’ve smoked too much. You’ll get scared.” 
“I’m not 12.” 
“It’s safer here, you wouldn’t be alone if something happened.” 
Ugh, Stu can never resist trying to get me paranoid. “Nothing’s going to happen.” That’s what I thought when I was at Casey’s. 
“Just get in bed,” Billy mumbles, half asleep, “I know how this argument goes with the two of you.” When I don’t move, Billy sighs, “If I fall asleep and you get freaked out, I’m not helping.” 
Stu lays back down, “He means it. He’s an asshole when he’s tired.” He pauses for so long, I briefly think he might have fallen asleep. “...’S not a big deal.” 
True. It wouldn’t even be the first time we all fell asleep in the same bed. And Billy’s slept over in my room enough times for that to barely phase me. “Yeah.” 
I walk over towards the bed. “Drink water,” Billy mumbles the words with his eyes still shut. I look over at the nightstand and there’s a glass there that wasn’t there before. I drink a few long sips until Stu sits up to steal the glass from me. 
Rude. “Give me--” 
He downs the rest of it in a few gulps, “Go to bed.” 
I roll my eyes, but unfortunately do listen. Stu pushes me towards the middle, ignoring my surprised huff. I smack his arm before covering myself with his bed sheets. I barely get to reflect on how much of an asshole move that was before I fall asleep. 
----
A/n fun fact, there’s a moment in here where Y/n came superrr close to accidentally finding out who Ghostface is :) 
Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things @im-better-than-your-newborn @michibuni @bigenargy @marli-lavellan @mushy-mushroom04 @neenieweenie @lone-ray @the-ruler-of-death @andthevillainshallrises @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixbolik-bby @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @peachycupotea @my5tica1ien @agustdeeyaa @astrial @3ll0kittylvr420 @zoleea-exultant @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @finnydraws @slytherhoes @vxarak @xofeeeeelsxo @thewayiknowyou @yourslashersfinalgirl @winterridinghood @maggieleighc 
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farfromstrange · 1 year ago
Text
Do No Harm
CHAPTER SEVEN: Downward Spiral
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: After agreeing to go on a date with Matt, you start realizing the weight of your decision, and your thoughts begin spiraling. In a moment of need, you turn to the only close friend you have in Hell's Kitchen, hoping she can pull you away from the edge of the very steep cliff your trauma is trying to throw you into.
Warnings for this chapter: ANGST (the caps feel appropriate here), mentions of domestic violence, suicidal thoughts, allusions to a suicide attempt, allusions to sexual assault, mentions of being taken advantage of by a superior, (I guess you could say) mentions of hypersexuality, self-loathing, PTSD, some foreshadowing, mental breakdown, alcohol, Season 1 related plot (spoilers)
Word Count: 6.4k
A/n: Surprise! I'm posting early because I'm going to see my family this weekend, and after I had an epiphany at two in the morning and spent 3 days writing this, I got it done, and I'm actually quite proud of this (or maybe it's the caffeine). Anyway, heed the warnings because the topics of conversation in this are pretty dark. That's why I highlighted the angst. And if you haven't watched past episode 1 of Season 1, this might spoil some things for you. (Also, I have no idea how this turned into a beast with a word count over 6k. Sorry in advance.)
Read Chapter 7: Downward Spiral here on AO3
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You don’t know what came over you.
You typed in Matt’s number in a moment of weakness, and once you heard his voice through the line, you gave up on being careful. You gave up on denying yourself what you’re so desperately craving, and you abandoned all rational thought.
For him.
You promised not to get attached to someone ever again—let alone a man. You started a new life in Hell’s Kitchen to find your way back to normalcy. You took all the necessary precautions, and even though you look back at the shreds of your old life every day, you are never going back.
Two years. That is the longest you have managed to stay in one place ever since you left California. But you still haven’t found your way back into the real world.
You have been guarding yourself, afraid of having your heart broken, afraid of losing this chance at a new life, and afraid of the man who ruined you. 
Every time you close your eyes, you see his face. You hear his voice in the back of your mind. He’s everywhere, even when you don’t want him to be. 
It’s easier to put a wall between yourself and everyone else. A wall no one can break through, not even yourself. You trapped your soul for the sole purpose of keeping yourself alive after you made the hardest decision of your life. When you ran, you believed your life was over, but you have always been too much of a coward to end your misery. God knows you’ve tried, but even a trained doctor can’t fully understand death, and some things just don’t work out the way we want them to. 
Drunken one-night stands can’t possibly compare to a meaningful emotional connection, but they satisfy the need for physical intimacy. At least for a little while. It killed you; slowly, almost pathetically, but sleeping with strangers in dirty motel rooms did a better job than you ever could. 
For the longest time, you used sex as a coping mechanism. You let strange men use you because that is the only way you know how to be with someone else. You let them hurt you to feel something, anything because pain is better than feeling nothing at all. But when you finally got settled in Hell’s Kitchen, thanks to Claire, you stopped. 
You locked up your heart and threw away the key. You started to shield your body the same way you have shielded your soul. You retreated into a shell of restlessness and constant fear of every little sliver of hope you feel being taken away from you. 
You have nowhere else to run, which is why keeping a low profile is so important to you, but after two years, don’t you deserve to finally live? 
We don’t exist to just survive; we exist to live the life we were given. You are Olivia Clarke now, not the broken girl you left behind, but every time you think about it, his voice returns and backs you into a corner that you can’t escape from. 
Every time you see the scars on your body, all you want to do is rip the skin off your bones and feed it to the dogs. 
The men you slept with while you were running from your past saw you as a mere object, and you are used to being seen that way, but it was isolating nonetheless. They didn’t care about your scars, they only cared about what you could give them. They treated you like he did without lifting a finger. 
Even though you don’t do that anymore, it still weighs heavy on your wounded soul. 
Matt treats you like a person. He can’t physically see, but he still sees you. He sees you in a way no one has ever seen you before. And he is gentle, and patient, and—
You scream into your pillow. Your nose still hurts, but it is nothing compared to how fast your heart is beating. 
To you, Matt is perfect. You know that no one can be perfect, and you should be careful, but he makes you feel things you have long denied yourself. He makes you feel wanted. Desired. Like you can be yourself around him and still be worthy of his attention. Like you matter. And he has a certain way of being around you that makes you feel protected, almost. 
You don’t need protection. You have made it this far without a bodyguard by your side. You know how to fight your own battles better than most, but you can’t deny that you wouldn’t mind being saved by him. 
You wouldn’t mind those hands he always wraps around his cane to wrap around you instead. He can’t see your scars, but he can feel them, and as terrifying as that thought sounds, it also excites you. 
You’re treading dangerous territory, but God, he won’t leave you alone, not even when you’re trying to sleep. He could offer you a sense of normal that you have long missed. He could teach you how to be a person again. And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself be cared for by him. 
You roll back onto your back when you need to breathe, one of your hairs getting stuck to your lip. You let out an annoyed huff. There won’t be much sleeping tonight, you’re sure. Not when you keep thinking about tomorrow.
“You’re not fifteen anymore,” you mutter to yourself. “What is wrong with you? God!”
It’s almost too surreal to believe that this magnetic force of a man managed to retrieve some of your long-lost hope, and he only had to call you beautiful once for you to be completely smitten. 
When he allowed you to take care of his injuries on the first day you met, you didn’t think a person could be this guarded yet so vulnerable at the same time. He’s breaking under an invisible weight that must have been on his shoulders for years, maybe even decades. You’re painfully aware of other people’s feelings, and it wasn’t hard to tell that Matt carries a lot of unresolved pain with him. Always. He reminds you so much of yourself, it’s like staring into a mirror. Two broken halves of a whole. 
Your thoughts won’t stand still, no matter how hard you try. You’re stuck inside an invisible hourglass. Not even heaven knows what will happen once time runs out. You don’t understand why you’re overthinking this while, at the same time, knowing exactly why. And you hate it. 
There is a part of you that you can never get back. A little girl who grew up too fast. A girl who didn’t know any better. A broken teenager who wanted nothing more than to escape and live a better life than her parents could ever give her, and when she did manage to escape one hell, she found herself in a new quarter of purgatory built just for you.
You used to think that maybe you just bring the worst out in people, but after seeing the worst of humanity outside of your broken relationships, too, you’re not so sure about that anymore.
The fact that you don’t understand why you can’t stop your usually so intelligent brain from spinning out of control makes you want to claw at the walls of your apartment that threaten to cave in on you.
Part of you wants nothing more than to run and never look back, but you can’t run forever. This time, you wouldn’t be running from the Devil; you would be running from a fear of your own feelings. Human feelings. Feelings that have a high likelihood of recurring, and then you will have to run again. 
You can’t run from reality forever. It’s a different reality now, but it’s a better reality. That is a rational thought, but being rational currently has no place in your mind, so you’re spiraling, and all because a nice guy asked you out for coffee. 
You find yourself in a cab a few minutes later, wearing a pair of sweatpants, and an oversized shirt, with an untouched bottle of wine in your bag. Your worn-down sneakers are not the appropriate footwear for today’s weather, but you couldn’t be bothered to pick another pair. 
You’re aware that it’s late and maybe you should have texted, but you’re already here, and Claire told you that you could always come to her, even if it happens to be the middle of the night. If the rule still stands after she suddenly decided to stay at your co-worker’s place without a proper explanation, you’re not quite sure though. 
You knock. At first, no response. You knock again. The floorboards creak on the other side of the door. 
“Claire, it’s Liv,” you call out.
You can hear the exact moment the person inside the apartment starts to panic. The floorboards creak again, more frequent this time, and it sounds almost as if Claire is turning the room upside down. You raise your eyebrows. 
Before you can knock again, the lock finally clicks, and she opens the door. She’s more of a mess than you are, and that is put lightly.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Claire greets you. “What are you doing here?”
You blink a few times. “Hello to you too?”
She sighs. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, it’s just been a long night.”
“I can see that,” you answer. “Are you alright?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” She looks you up and down. “What happened to your nose?”
“It’s a long story.”
“No shit.”
“Yeah. Can I, uh, come in?”
She hesitates before stepping aside to let you in. “Sure.”
You take a quick look around the apartment. Nothing seems out of place. A bowl of cat food stands in the corner by the kitchen. The window in the living room is open, but it seems intentional. 
The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air. You’re not sure if your nose is betraying you as you breathe in, but the smell is familiar. Bandages, disinfectant, and salve. You don’t want to question it, but you can’t help it. 
“Did you hurt yourself?” you ask. 
Claire blows her nose behind you. If you didn’t know better, you would think she was actually sick. She shakes her head upon hearing your question, but there is a faint blush on her cheeks. 
“What makes you think that?” she retorts. 
“Oh, no particular reason. It just smells very… hospital-y. That’s why I asked.”
“I, uh, I had to put a bandage on my leg earlier ‘cause this stupid cat decided to scratch me after peeing everywhere.” She sniffs. “Had to clean the wound, that thing—“ she nods toward the cat sitting in the cat tree, “and then the apartment. Maybe that’s why.” 
You follow her gaze toward the little furball resting on his cat tree. You approach him, but Claire seems less pleased at the prospect. 
“Be careful. He’s pissed.”
“At you,” you correct her. “Also, you’re having an allergic reaction, and—if he really, honest-to-God scratched you—very probably an infection. Why are you even staying here?”
Your voice rises in pitch when you reach the sleeping cat. “Hello, you.” You stroke his fur. He only opens one eye to sniff you, but once he recognizes you, he starts purring. For a moment, you forget the reason why you even came here. 
Claire exhales loudly. She scratches her neck, her skin threatening to break out into hives. “It’s a long story,” she says. 
You glare at her over your shoulder, your hand still stroking up and down the cat’s back as he settles back into a deep sleep. “I’m worried about you."
“That’s sweet of you, but I’m fine.”
“You called out of work and told Shelly you were sick.” You straighten up and turn back to face her. “You’re not sick, Claire.”
She sniffs as if to prove her point.
“Your immune system is overreacting by producing Immunoglobulin E. The antibodies are traveling to the cells responsible for releasing chemicals into your body, causing you to get a stuffy nose and break out into hives. You’re not sick. You’re allergic to cats and sharing an apartment with one. There’s a big difference,” you state. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but you have to admit that, from where I’m standing, your behavior looks a little suspicious.”
“I’m going through some shit, alright?” she says. “And it’s a lot easier to deal with them here than back at my place. That’s why I called in sick.”
You don’t know what to make of her answer. It’s vague. You don’t like vague answers because they often indicate a bigger problem. It is one thing for you to deal with your demons on your own and refuse to talk about it with your best friend; it’s another thing entirely to keep a dangerous truth from the person you’re closest with, one that could potentially lead to worse consequences. If Claire were a naturally secretive person, maybe you would understand, but she isn’t like that. She isn’t you. 
She’s the only person who knows your entire story. She saved your life. You can’t imagine her keeping secrets from you that might end up hurting her. 
You dare to ask, “Are you in danger?”
She shakes her head a little too fast. “I’m fine, Liv. Really.”
“I’m sorry, but I have a hard time believing that.”
“It’s…personal.”
“Personal? Oh, my. Are you sleeping with Luke again?”
Claire stammers. The look on her face suggests that she didn’t expect you to jump to that conclusion. “What? How did you even–”
“Are you?” you repeat your question. 
The last time she slept with Luke Cage, she lied to you about it. She knew you would worry. It’s only natural for you to come to that conclusion now. Except that Luke is in prison, serving his sentence, and it doesn’t make sense. 
“How would I sleep with an incarcerated man?” Claire deadpans. 
“I’m sure you have your ways,” you say. 
“You’re grasping at straws.”
“That’s… true, but it’s coming from a place of love.”
She responds with a sigh. “I don’t wanna fight.”
You join in. You exhale, slowly lowering yourself down on the couch. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “Just tell me you’re okay, please.”
She offers you a gentle smile. “I’m okay,” she says. 
“Thank you.” 
You choose to believe her. For the time being, at least. 
The silence tugs at your brain cells. You obsessed over Claire’s situation because you didn’t want to face your own, but now that your thoughts have regained the freedom to roam and cause irreversible destruction, you start spiraling again. 
You reach into your bag. 
“You brought wine,” Claire points out. 
“Yep,” you say. The bottle weighs heavily in your hand.
“You need a glass?”
You unscrew the top. “No.”
She doesn’t listen. Claire makes her way into the kitchen, reaching for the wine glasses in the cupboard. “Does this have anything to do with why your nose is all blue and swollen?” 
You shake your head at her question. “That was a patient I tried to sedate. No, I, uh… I have a date,” your voice falls flat. 
The wine glasses move back into the cupboard. Claire turns around, her eyebrows moving up to her hairline. “Come again?”
“I have a date.”
Saying it out loud makes it real. Something so surreal cannot be real, but it is. You have a date with Matt Murdock. Your heart begins racing again, and you feel the same desperate urge to scream into the nearest pillow again. 
You take a sip of wine straight from the bottle. You have a date with a nice man who, for the first time in two years, made you see some resemblance of light at the end of this endless tunnel of despair, and the thought alone is terrifying. Because how are you supposed to live after just existing for the longest time? After you dedicated your life to the act of survival?
Claire steps out of the kitchen and in front of you. “Liv, that’s… that’s amazing!” she says. She sounds like a proud mother. Maybe she is. 
You want to shake your head, but you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than put the bottle back against your lips and take another sip. The alcohol burns down your esophagus into your stomach, spreading a warm feeling through your fragile body, and into your broken soul. 
“Or not,” she corrects herself upon seeing the expression you’re carrying. Your eyes are empty. “I’m confused,” She pauses, “Are we not happy about the fact that you’ve finally got a date after two years of being miserable?”
If she puts it like that, you feel even more miserable. Another sip of wine finds its way down your throat. 
“Okay, maybe you should put the bottle down. I’m sorry if I said something wrong–”
“It’s not you, it’s me.” You put the bottle down. 
Claire sits down next to you, but you get up before she can take your hand and look at you with that caring look she always gives you when she’s worried. You’re not even mad that she played your concerns down when you expressed them and now she is expressing concerns about you; you’re mad at yourself. 
She watches you. ���You have a date. That’s a good thing. It means you allowed yourself to finally say yes to someone interested in you, right?”
“No,” you shake your head. 
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer.”
You’re pacing over the creaky floorboards. “The last time I went on a date with someone was after my intern year.”
Her gaze softens. “You told me that,” she murmurs. 
“He took me to a restaurant,” you tell her. Your lip quivers as you speak, and your nails dig into your palms until they draw blood. You can barely feel it. His face is right in front of you. “It was a nice restaurant. He paid for me, even offered me his jacket while we were walking home. It was the best date I ever had. And then he kissed me on the doorstep before wishing me a good night.”
“I know. You told me all of that before. But you couldn’t have known that he would turn out to be who he turned out to be. He was your boss. He had no right—”
“That is precisely the problem, Claire!” your voice breaks. “The guy I met, he’s… his name is Matthew. He’s… he is so nice to me. He cares. He treats me like a human being. He… he’s respectful. He called me beautiful. I don’t even know how he knows that. He just… he was so nice to me, and I feel so comfortable around him. I haven’t felt this comfortable around a man in so long. I… I wanted to go out with him. I flirted with him, for fuck’s sake! And when I’m with him, I finally feel wanted again.”
“But you know who else was nice to me when I first met him?” you say. “Who was respectful? Who said I was the only real thing in this world, the only important thing in his life, and that he loved me? You know who made me feel safe and wanted, and who said he cared about me? John said that I was the most beautiful woman on this planet, and I fell for it because he was nice to me. He–”
“But that guy isn’t John,” Claire cuts you off. She raises her voice only slightly—only enough to make you stop and stare at her, tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re miserable. You’re a mess. It is truly embarrassing. But she doesn’t look at you any differently.
“Don’t you think I know that?” you snap back. 
“Liv–”
“Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. I’m 32, and I can’t sleep without a nightlight most nights because I wake up in a cold sweat. I can’t drop a glass without going into shock. I can’t look in the mirror without feeling his hands on me. Without feeling disgusting and worthless, and…” You can feel the shiver traveling up your spine from the thought alone. “I can’t exist without feeling like he should have killed me when he got the chance.” 
“Liv, I know you’re upset, but please, don’t say that,” Claire says, her voice gentle yet assertive.
“Why? It’s true. I wish he would’ve killed me. He took four years of my life that I can never get back. At least if he’d killed me I wouldn’t have to suffer now.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want you saying things like that.”
“You don’t get it,” you say. “Every time I look in the mirror, I want to vomit because I see what he made of me. I can’t even meet a nice guy and allow myself to like him without seeing his face and hearing his stupid voice in my ear, telling me—telling me that no one will ever love me, that he tainted me, and that I will never be free of him because I can’t exist without him.” You break into a sob. 
“And he was right, you know,” you cry. “I ran from him. I made the hardest decision of my life after years of living in his shadow, and I almost died. Because of him, I can’t trust a kind and respectful man who treats me like a person to actually be kind, and I recoil at the thought of someone being gentle with me. Something is seriously broken inside of me, Claire. Very, very broken.”
Claire opens her mouth, but all she can do is bear your tirade. She knows that if she speaks now, you will find another reason to shut her down. This is your pain talking. It’s a powerful avalanche set out to cause destruction on a global scale.
“With Matt, I—” you exhale. “I was myself around him for the first time since I ran away, and he didn’t shy away. I had hope, Claire. I felt like I could finally step into normal life again after settling down here, and I thought I’d have a chance,” you say. “But I just have to close my eyes, and John is right there to ruin everything for me. He is always right there, and I can’t fucking escape him. That’s the problem. That’s why I can’t be happy about this date because I’m fucking terrified. I can’t go through this again. I—I can’t give myself to someone again because there is hardly anything left of me. He took everything, including my ability to love another man ever again, and that thought is fucking with my head.”
You fall silent. The tears continue running down your cheeks, and you bury your face in your hands. Your knees are so weak. You don’t have it in you to hold yourself up any longer. You drop to the carpet, crying into your hands, but you don’t sob. You stay silent because your pain is so great, you don’t know whether to scream or shut down, so you scream internally and shut down from the world around you because you can’t face it. You can’t face Claire. 
The couch creaks. Her feet brush against the carpet. “He abused you,” her voice borders above a whisper. 
She kneels beside you, her hand reaching out—but not touching you. She knows what lines to cross and which to better leave untouched.
“What he did to you wasn’t your fault. He’s a cruel man with cruel intentions.” When you don’t shy away from her proximity, she finally places her hand on your shoulder. “You did the impossible. You survived. You’re here now because you chose to save yourself, and that is so admirable,” she says. “It’s been two years. You’re safe here, you’re not alone anymore, and I know it hurts and it is terrifying, but it’s a good sign that you want to feel more of what this guy made you feel.”
“But I can’t,” you choke out. 
“I know, and I wish I could help you, but I’m not a professional. The truth is, John may have made you feel like there is nothing left of you, but you’re not Olivia Clarke. You’re still you. You’re still…” Claire takes a deep breath before she utters your name. Your real name. The one you were given when you were born. 
The mention of your name makes you shiver. “She’s gone,” you say. “He killed her, but he left her body alive.”
“She’s not gone, she’s just buried very fucking deep. I mean, you said it yourself. You could be yourself around this other guy, and he took you for who you are. That isn’t Olivia, that’s you. And it’s such a good sign that you want to go out with him. That you like him. John hurt you, but he didn’t break you beyond repair. Please, you have to remember that.”
Your tears slowly subside. Her words finally manage to reach your rebelling mind through your ears. Even though everything feels like it has been wrapped in cotton, she manages to get through to you like no one else. It was a subconscious decision to come to her, but perhaps your soul knew something that you didn’t, and you can’t say that opening up didn’t help. 
The mess slowly subsides. Left behind is nothing but hot air, and the words Claire decided to share with you. 
You look up to meet her eyes. She smiles down at you. “I just… I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whisper.
“That’s why I think you should go on that date,” she tells you.
“Yeah, but who wants to sign up for a mess like me?”
“Seems like he does. And if he’s a good guy, he’ll like you regardless of your mess.”
“You know it’s not that easy.”
She shrugs. “I hate to break it to you, but you can’t pretend it never happened. And you can’t give John the satisfaction of putting your life on hold because of him. That’s just giving him what he wants.”
“I don’t want to give him what he wants,” you’re quick to answer.
Claire hands you a tissue, and you take it gratefully, wiping your runny nose and the salty tears stuck to your dry skin.
Her words stir something within you; even though you don’t want her to be right, she is. Matt may not deserve a mess like you, but if he’s truly a good guy, it can’t hurt to see if it would work between you. And when your past comes out eventually, there is a chance that he won’t abandon you. A slight chance, but a chance nonetheless. That’s a positive outlook you still have to learn how to adapt.
“C’mon.” Claire helps you off the floor and onto the couch. 
You reach for the bottle of wine instantly, but she takes it away from you. She screws the top back on and places it aside, far out of your desperate reach.
“This is not the answer,” she says, “talking is.”
“Can’t we talk and have wine?” you counter.
“Not when you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”
You sniff, wiping the remaining tears on your cheeks with the tissue. 
“We need to take care of you, and alcohol won’t fix your problems.”
Once again, she isn’t wrong. You let out a defeated sigh before dropping your head in her lap. 
A long time ago, you used to be an affectionate person. The fear of being hurt again, of someone raising their hand against you, took that away from you. With Claire though, it’s different. You know she won’t hurt you. She’s not that kind of person, and you can say that with complete certainty. 
Claire Temple is not a violent human being, except for when the people she loves are in danger, but only then. 
She gently brushes the hair out of your face and crumbles it into a messy bun at the back of your head. She wipes at your nose and the last of your tears before they can dry out your skin more than it already is. The past couple of days have taken an emotional and physical toll on you. 
You wince slightly when you notice how sore your nose is. It isn’t broken, but you still got hit. You’re not quite healed yet. A shiver rolls down your spine. 
Shaking her head, Claire gently removes her hand. “You always get yourself in trouble when I’m not around,” she mutters. 
You scoff softly. “Maybe that’s a sign.”
“A sign for you to be more careful, yeah,” she says. 
“Now, where would be the fun in that?” You try to joke, but your voice falls flat with the weight of your exhaustion. 
Claire offers you a chuckle, but it’s more of a pity laugh than anything else.
You sigh. You know that you’re not an example when it comes to the significance of making the right decisions. Not at all. 
“Did I ever thank you for saving my life?” you ask her then, breaking the silence between you in two.
She leans back against the cushions. “Once or twice.”
“Not nearly enough then.”
“I don’t know about that. I mean, if you hadn’t come into Metro General with your hand in a man’s chest cavity, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to help you. You chose to stay.”
“Well, I had my hand on his vena cava, so, letting go would have been unfortunate for the poor guy.”
“That’s true.”
“But if you hadn’t disobeyed protocol, risking your job by putting your trust in me, I wouldn’t have had a reason to stay.”
Claire looks down at you, and you meet her eyes. “That sounded a lot like a love confession,” she nudges you.
You roll your eyes playfully. “You wish.”
“Hey, I’d understand it if you were in love with me. I’m hot.”
She never fails to make you laugh, even when you feel like a truck has rolled you over and broken every bone in your body. That is one of the many qualities you value about her. She’s a good person with a good heart, and she is the kind of person you could trust with your life and she would always make sure that you come out on the other side unharmed, mentally and physically. 
If she hadn’t taken you under her wing, you’re not sure where you would be, but it surely wouldn’t be where you are now.
When your laughter quiets down, you nod. “I can’t argue with that. You are hot. If you weren’t my friend,” you say, “I’d ask you out.”
“And if I were into women, I’d say yes,” she says. 
“I appreciate that.”
“Speaking of dates though–” She stops when you sigh a little too loudly. Claire shoots you a stern glare before she continues, “Promise me you won’t cancel.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement. She wants you to mean it. You won’t lie; canceling your plans with Matt did cross your mind, but after Claire worked her magic on you, you can see a little clearer. The fog that kept your mind clouded has started to lift slowly but steadily. You’re no longer spiraling as fast as you have before. 
If you could wash your hands and wash him off of you, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem as it is, but you’ve tried. You have tried washing all memory of him off of your body, out of your mind, but he’s a resilient son of a bitch. John will always try to drive a wedge between you and a normal, happy life, the question is just if you will allow him to do so without even being near you, or if you will finally allow yourself to crawl out of the dark hole he tossed you into. 
You can’t do it alone, and asking for help is terrifying. You have spent the past two years trying to push through. Unfortunately, your healthy coping mechanisms won’t work forever. 
You sigh again, a little quieter. “I won’t cancel,” you tell her, your voice barely above a whisper, yet still so very certain. As certain as you can be, anyway. 
“Thank you.” Claire reaches for the wine bottle next to the couch. “You deserve to be happy.”
“Hm,” you can only murmur. 
“What?”
“What are you doing with the bottle?” you ask. 
“Drinking,” she says. 
“Now I feel betrayed.”
“You should celebrate the fact that you found a Matt, or whatever his name is, and not another Mike.”
You promptly sit up. “Hold up. Pause. Rewind. Mike, like your ex?”
Claire takes a sip of the bottle. A storm rages behind her hazel eyes. You have never seen her that conflicted before. 
“Is he the personal reason why you’re subjecting yourself to a constant allergic reaction by staying here?” you ask. 
The pieces slowly start falling into place. She nods. “Not Mike Mike, but yeah. It’s always the Mike’s.”
Your jaw drops. “I feel like you skipped some chapters there. You met a guy and you didn’t tell me? What–”
“He met me,” she corrects you. “I didn’t tell you because we’re not a thing. Let’s just say there’s a reason his name is Mike. That’s why I’m here.”
Claire takes another sip. You watch her closely, trying to catch her in a lie, but it seems like she’s telling the truth—or a version of the actual truth, but that still makes it true. She’s giving you as much as she can after you cried your eyes out to her. 
You clear your throat, lowering your voice. “But you’re not in danger?” you ask to clarify. 
She shakes her head. “I just have shitty taste in men, even if it's platonic, apparently. It’s like… I’m trying to exist, and then I find a stray cat in a dumpster, but the stray cat has been stabbed and needs medical attention.”
“But you’re allergic to cats and you’re not a vet?” you try to make sense of her analogy. 
When she lets out a sigh and nods, you figure you came as close as possible. It still doesn’t make sense to you, but when does anything? At least when it comes to romance and people’s love lives.
You decide to push a little more, “Did you actually find an injured guy in a dumpster?” 
She shakes her head. The reaction comes a little fast, but you don’t question it. “No, that–that was just an analogy,” Claire says. 
“And Mike is the stray cat in that analogy? But not your Mike, another Mike?”
“Yeah.”
“Dude, you’re frying my brain cells.”
“The single one you still have, or did you buy new ones?”
You try not to laugh, trying to look like you are genuinely offended, but your lips still curl up into a smile. “Shut up,” you mutter. You reach for the bottle, against better judgment, and take a sip.
Claire shakes her head. “What I’m trying to tell you is that, if he’s a good guy, you can’t let him slip away. You can’t let a good thing slip away and possibly end up with a–a Mike kinda guy for the rest of your life.”
“I know.” You look down at your hands, your broken fingernails, and sore knuckles from the constant scrubbing. “I just wish I could understand what he’s doing to me without questioning my entire existence.”
“Some people are just that enigmatic,” and she sounds as if she knows exactly what she’s talking about. 
You wonder about Mike. Not her ex-boyfriend but the one she mentioned. He sounds like he has no sense of self-preservation, and he may not even be a good influence. He reminds you of yourself, and that’s creepy—you don’t even know him. 
And then there is Matt, who is also so eerily similar to you, but in different ways. It’s more of an emotional connection. His heart is in the right place. And unlike the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, he doesn’t have a savior complex.
Why did he even come to your mind? His existence should not be playing into the equation. You brush the picture of his chiseled chest in that tight shirt away, or the way he looked even more dangerous with that smirk below the the mask. 
You hand the wine bottle back to Claire. If you don’t cut yourself off now, you will melt into a puddle of embarrassment. 
Your focus should be on Matt and Matt alone. You have to try. Claire was right. You can’t sacrifice your happiness because you’re scared—you can’t give the man who dedicated his life to breaking you and your confidence down the satisfaction of cowering in fear every time a man shows an interest in you. A good man. A man who could make you happier than he ever had. 
You won’t run this time. You will face the situation head-on. You owe that much to the little girl who dreamed of a life beyond the hell she grew up in, the same girl who was obsessed with finding her soulmate and still believed in true love. Above everyone, you owe it to yourself. No one else matters quite as much as you do. 
And for the sake of seeing what could be instead of wondering what could have been, you have to try.
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Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia
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lineli225 · 1 year ago
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MHA IS / NOT / ENDING IN 2024
Ok so, MHA is definitely having at least more 50 chapters at the very minimum.
MHA is weekly, and 2024 will have only 52 weeks, so that plus breaks, if it has 50 chapters, knowing Hori takes at least a break a month, it'd need around 65 or 70 weeks to be completed.
So it can't end in 2024, maybe MHA will end around February or March 2025... Perhaps even June!
But why I think so?
The final war arc started on chapter 343, so the current arc has 66 chapters.
This final arc is the longest arc in the series, as Hori's arcs got progressively longer each new arc, the longest arcs being 24, 41 and 54, from the first big arc, it basically doubled in size, it can double again.
But i think of the traitor arc as part of the final war, starting with the Sns chapter, which is chapter 329
So to me the final arc has 80 chapters so far to put it simple.
Also Hori wouldn't just cut the end dry, I can easily see a last, short, epilogue arc showing what happened after and all the changes in society and everything.
MHA won't end in more 15 chapters, we still haven't seen: Aizawa/Mic/Kurogiri, Sero's role, the tie up to Toga and Ochako, Hawks being the light of hope, Spinner's demise, seeing what talk Compress had with the heroes, Hisashi finally appearing(hori did promise it!), Hori did mention Class 2-A briefly showing up, tie the quirk singularity theory plot, AFO finally inserting his quirk factor on Tomura, AND finally, Tomura vs Izuku.
Tomura vs Izuku is probably not being quick, giving they are the main characters, and the grand finale, the greatest mess and also what needs more focus, In these 60+ chapters of this arc so far, izuku barely showed up, you can't have a 80 chapters only arc and your MAIN CHARACTER show up just 5 or so!!!
Considering Hori made almost 50 chapters of ONLY people fighting AFO and other stuff, I'm confident we will have at MINIMUM some 15 chapters of ONLY Shigaraki vs Izuku, he is saving these two for last, so I'm confident it won't be that fast AT ALL!
Honestly, I won't be surprised if MHA have more 70 chapters left, I can easily see this arc being over 150 chapters, like, come on, Hori didn't take his sweet sweet time only to half ass rush the most important part! Hori won't rush now that he toke so much care to build up the climax
Honestly i personally think MHA might even reach 460/480 chapters total, I wont be surprised if we reach 500 chapters either! (Each volume have 12 chapters, so MHA ending with a total of 47 or 48 volumes. )
Like- there is way TOO MUCH to be seen! The final arc is only on the half way but already been 80 chapters so far! And we haven't even got to the main fight!!!
Anyways, mark my words
MHA is ending in middle 2025.
Update/Edit: Just realized MHA will have only 33 chapters released this year and only 2 volumes
First chapter of 2023 was 377- the chain thus far
33 chapters of only fighting AFO, togachako and tododabi
Even If MHA have only more 15 chaps it'll still take half a whole year 😭 MHA IS SO NOT ENDING TILL 2025
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dragons-clause · 10 months ago
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The Dragon's Clause debuts tomorrow!
(3/20 by my calendar)
I gotta admit it's kind of wild to hype up a story release like this, but it's been fun, and I'm glad I decided to make a new sideblog for it, and herald it's start as well.
Chapter 1 will post tomorrow somewhere around 8am US-East Coast.
Until then please enjoy this map of the Nusjiro Empire - the continent where most (if not all) of the story will be taking place. Many thanks to the wonderfully talented and decadently sweet @mamaalpha who took my quick scribbles and turned them into a lush and beautiful map \o/
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Not every country will come into play (at least, not maybe? Honestly this might end up being my Longest Book Thus Far because of everything I have mapped out and everything that could happen afterward. I didn't mean to accidentally make a fantasy epic, I usually keep my stuff to 20-26 chapters, but this might double that ^^;;; ) but every Kingdom has been set in location and cast - how they interact with the story will remain to be seen.
But, also, it's me, you can expect plenty of banter, and plenty of smut. What's a good high fantasy story without loads of sex anyway?? XD (I kid, I kid, but also I don't cause I'm totally writing smut). Ah, no incest in this one though, at least not that I have planned right now.
Current cast list includes, but is not limited to:
The canon King of Lulusia The canon princess of Lulusia (in a non-canonical way) A non-canon prince of Lulusia Outlook III Didit Sterry Portgas D. Ace Monkey D. Luffy Monkey D. Garp Inazuma Koala Hack Eustass Kid Killer Dracule Mihawk Yamato Sanji Vivi Nami Marco the Phoenix Robin Zoro Law Franky Jinbei Kuma Karasu Moda ... and more \o/
Also check out my sketchy map I gave to Mama below the cut and see just how little she had to work with xD
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I adjusted the Capitals a little based on geography, but this was the original loose idea =3
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elialys · 10 months ago
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hey. as a fellow writer from niche fandoms and unpopular ships, can i just say i really appreciate you being upfront about how much lack of engagement sucks. really thank you. especially because it comes from someone like you who has a fair amount of engagement, but you know what? you’re right being pissed. i know i am. i come from fandoms where people are constantly yapping about lack of content yet none of them engage w/ each other. i ended up leaving bc i felt like i was screaming to a wall. and you know what? i haven’t stopped writing, just posting. bc why bother? so yeah, i AM writing for myself, and also keeping it from myself. idc if that’s petty honestly, like no, it doesn’t make me feel any better if someone out there might end up liking it one day if they’re being completely silent about it. fandoms aren’t supposed to be one-sided. i’m fine w people not reading my stuff cause they don’t like it. you can straight up tell me you hate my ship and i will be like. cool 👍 but when people do read and like your stuff and yet never say anything, that’s something that i don’t like
anyway sorry for rambling, know that you’re much appreciated. i remember you from my doctor who days and i wish i were in your fandoms so i could keep reading your stuff. ❤️
For the longest time I didn’t say anything because I realize that in a lot of cases, I’ve had what you’d call great engagement, and I’ve always been so thankful for the love my stories have received throughout various fandoms. But the decline is STEEP these days, and I have the hindsight of having been writing/sharing fics online for two decades, so I have a lot of 'data' to compare these days’ numbers to.
That’s the thing that has always gotten to me. NUMBERS. Being so, so aware of how many people click on our fics, and how few of them actually engage with a comment. Even at my most “popular”, I didn’t get more than 5% of my readers interacting with me; it felt like a lot because I had a lot of readers, so it meant more comments, but it still was only 5%.
Like you said, it’s this knowing that people are reading, that they are coming back chapter after chapter, yet they don’t bother engaging with us, even when most of us basically BEG in author notes for them to comment and make us feel less like word spewing machines and more like creative members of their online community. What really got to me this last month was updating my fic for The Last of Us, a chapter that got 1,000 hits in two weeks, and I got 10 comments for it. I was just…how the fuck are 1,000 people reading and only 10 of them bothering? Especially since that fic had averaged 3 times that amount of comments for months on previous chapters.
Every time I get disheartened by the increasingly shitty reader engagement, I tell myself that’s it, I’m done writing fics. But then I always go back to it a few days later because I actually LOVE writing fics. Like, fuck yeah, I do write for myself and actually enjoy it for myself (in a love-hate kind of writing relationship obviously 🤣). I do it because I am in love with the characters I’m writing about, and fascinated by their dynamics and relationships, so it’s genuinely a THRILL, and my biggest passion.
But the abysmal engagement these days is just…it makes me feel like shit, there’s no other word for it. Because I spend so much time and energy on those stories (because I want to and I LOVE to write), but as a fic writer, there’s always this part of me that’s excited to be SHARING it with the fandom. Because twenty years of this have gotten me used to at least some decent interaction, and feeling like I'm part of a community. But then the hit count goes up and the comment count stays low or nearly empty, and it’s just gutting. People just consume, consume, consume.
Honestly, GOOD ON YOU for still writing while deciding not to share with your niche fandom at the moment. I’m thinking I might do the same with the rest of my Tess & Ellie AU, because I want to see it through and finish it for ME, but I’m done spoon-feeding an apathetic crowd. I’ll reach out to my most loyal readers and regular commenters when the day comes, and give them a way to read the rest of the story, might even just post the chapters straight on my blog here like I used to do, but not on AO3, not for a goooooood while.
Maybe it is petty, maybe I am just butt hurt. But fuck it, it does hurt my feelings, and I’m the one spending hours of my life writing those things, so I’ll do it my way. And I will continue to call readers out, and ask them to step up. We are human beings, not chatGPT, we just want some appreciation for sharing our art.
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burninglesbian · 2 hours ago
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If This Book Exists, You're In The Wrong Universe review and ranting
Personal rating: 9.5/10
Ranking in the book series: Top 2
I think I liked this one more than the average person. It's difficult to explain exactly why, I just really enjoyed myself with this one. It's the longest book in the series, I think. I like mind fuck and this one was the greatest sex my brain has ever gotten. The time line of this book is da filthy but it still makes sense (?) At least I didn't notice any inconsistencies that usually come up with time travel/ time loop stories. Maybe Caitlin D. has noticed something. Anyway, further rambling down below.
The tone:
This one might be the perfect mix of all genres. I feel like the comedy-horror-drama ratio was pretty evened out here, which I quite enjoyed. It's portioned, though. You get a whole lot of funny in the beginning, mostly action and funny in the middle, maybe I'm just a pussy but the last act made my heart go ouchie at times. The horror was the disturbing kind, and I love it. Overall, it was very entertaining from start to finish.
The pacing:
The pacing wasn't perfect, but nothing was bothering me too much. The ending had, once again the problem, that it never seemed to find an end. It went on and on and on, but I didn't mind it. I also rather have 7 more chapters than ending the story with John's head mush and the city or [Undisclosed] vaporized, so I'm not complaining. All the characters get enough screen time, the tension never comes too short or too long, and the more emotional bits are long enough to get you invested but not too long to make you cry on public transport.
It also all came down full circle, even the most unsuspecting things coming into play again, later. (the fucking DO NOT OPEN cabinet in John's home, are you kidding?!)
The supernatural elements:
Xarcrax: The Xarcrax cult is obviously inspired by the red-pill contents, especially how young boys can be pulled into this non-sense because they crave a feeling of validation, community, and superiority (often times because people have wronged them and they don't get the comfort they seek, elsewhere) It's a nice mix of real issues adapted into this book, and it still fits in there well. And yes, Dave was right. The name is stupid. It's even more stupid once it's revealed how the name was created in the first place.
Magpie and Mr. Swallows: These creatures are very much THE horror element of this book. While not as terrifying as monsters from other books, it's still caused for some amazingly scary moments. Also, the idea of the beings being invisible except for the inside of their stomach is creative and quickly turns disturbing. The eyeball moments were da filthy!
The Time Captain: The fact that all this has happened once is introduced to us early on. Before dying, the Time Captain confirmed that the events of the book are their second chance to save the world. The concept of this not being their second chance, but their 100.000.000+ chance, is only revealed around the half way mark. Maybe even later. Revealing the concept of a time loop this late was honestly a great choice. It caused both comfort and concern. I'm all for happy endings but I'm always annoyed with time loop stories that just show that one time they break the loop and the loop gets broken for no damn reason. Not only do we see a failed attempt here but also a reasoning as to why it works the next time (and finally we know why it's called John Dies At The End. I didn't cry. And if you think I did, good luck proving it, asshole!)
The BATMANTIS???: Although we don't see the BATMANTIS??? as a creature in this book, it's highly implied that Dave transformed at least 3 times. One time in a "dream", hunting and feeding. One time when him and Joy were being attacked and he had to release the beast to protect them. Great fucking scene. We only see the lead up and the pay off, so there is still a certain mystery to the BATMANTIS??? but Dave is very fucking powerful when transformed. The decapitated head and the organs he puked out afterwards prove it. The last time he transformed is to presumably eat the asshole misogynistic twat of a father, bones and all. I couldn't say "slay" louder.
The characters:
Once again, beautiful human stories in-between this monster-action-flick. Dave is still far from perfect, but he has grown since book 3 (the bar was in hell). He has also become quite the action hero. Still chubby and a little bit damp, but damn, he can prove himself in stressful situations. In general, the whole team has improved so much over the years that you'd almost think they are professionals.
John is still funny and stupid but damn, did he pull on my heart strings this book. What kind of beef did he have with the universe for it to make it a rule that this manic sewer-rat of a man HAS to die?!
Amy is perfect. She's my angel, the love of my life, my hero, if anything ever happens to her, I will destroy this realm. I also adore that she is fully part of the monster hunter gang, without having the ability to see the monsters. It just proves how badass she can be because she can still keep up with the boys while "blind".
I also love the addition of Joy. It was interesting to let her stay in the background for most of the book and then have her be one of the main reasons why they can save the world. I also love her view on humans and why she loves them so much. All while she's still a bitch to John and the rest, I adore her so much. I noticed that she doesn't use her abilities often, even if it would make everyone's life easier. Her reasoning and fear makes it all very valid and immediately puts some depth into this character.
Bas was also a good character. I doubt he will appear in future stories, but he was a great antagonist. He was a realistic mix of well-taught magic user and amateurish teen. His love for his sisters and the obvious grief that lead his action makes him a sympathetic villain, who, at the end of the day is just another grieving boy who doesn't get the help he seeks.
Other aspects and bits that I liked:
-"Knife to meet you!"
-The first two pages are Dave's Ebay offers of cursed and/or magic items that seem pretty useless, but you just know supernatural nerds would buy.
-The "Prologue" if you can call it that reintroducing you to the gang and their shenanigans with a seemingly stand-alone mission was a great way to open the book, so readers who have had a long break between books could get a smooth feeling for the craziness again. The monster ending up being part of the bigger picture was even greater.
-No fucking way did we get another black-out situation. I expected another terrifying outcome as we got in book one. It just ended up being Dave from another universe watching the shenanigans and being bored so he skipped forward, causing their entire universe to skip forward as well?!?!?
-That ending? She ate and left no crumbs!!! (talking about Dave commiting cannibalism)
-Pool portals!
-Only in a John Dies At The End book can you have a figure appearing in your room at night, who is about to tell you the prophecy of saving the world... only solidify into the wall and die before getting to the most important parts.
-His name is Tim Kaplan. Gets referred to as Time Captain throughout the entire fucking book because John didn't hear his introduction clearly.
-The entity Xarcrax got named after a fucking portable cooler. Who the fuck comes up with this shit?!??!
-DA FILTHY
----
Other reviews:
JDATE | TBIFOS | WTHDIJR
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darlingpoppet · 14 days ago
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Fic wrap-up 2024
Fic Wrap-up 2023 here
I delayed posting this until the last possible moment because I was hoping I could get a bit more writing in under the wire so I could include it in the year total word count, but alas it wasn’t meant to be :’) I filled out this post with several more questions compared to last year, since I did see that year-end writing ask meme going around but I decided to be a bit of a rebel and just go ahead to answer all of the questions I wanted to answer. Hope that’s ok!!
Fics published this year/total words:
See No ****, Hear No **** — Patrochilles (6430)
Where The Dead Forget ch 7-8 — Patrochilles (27500)
In Full Bloom — Persenyx (2838)
(Pray, Love, Remember — Mobuhan - not yet on AO3)(3966)
Liminal Spaces ch 1-5 — PZA (32026)
My Heart’s Your Future — Patrochilles (3227)
(Closest To My Heart Jp ver — PZA - not yet on AO3) (17779)
Total: 93766 (AO3 only: 72021)
(I ALMOST published 100k this year I was SO CLOSE haha)
5 fanfics with the most kudos in 2024:
Closest To My Heart (317)
Flourishing Into Greatness (229)
Strain (227)
Pressed Flowers (216)
Where The Dead Forget (216)
Did this for all-time rather than just 2024 fics since I thought it’s more interesting. Flourishing and Strain have been locked in fierce competition for the number two spot for most of the year lol. WTDF is the only one that has fallen out of the top 3 since last year but it’s still in the top 5 and might surpass Pressed Flowers soon (probably it will once I get around to updating it lol.) I also think it’s interesting that all of my top fics have at least 200 kudos now and so that really means a lot to me that new people are apparently continuing to discover and enjoy my stories! 🥹🙏
Most popular fic this year
If judging by kudos, then it’s In Full Bloom (hooray, sapphics win!) If going by comments, then definitely Liminal Spaces (hooray, erotic love triangles win!) Both are perfectly deserving, I’m good with either one =)
Least popular fic this year
If judging by kudos only it’s My Heart’s Your Future but that’s kind of understandable since it’s a side story whose broader context is in a different, longer, multi-chapter fic. Yet I was pleasantly surprised by how much feedback it still received so honestly I can’t complain AT ALL. And if judging by comments, technically I received 0 AO3 comments for See No ****, Hear No **** but tbh the only response that mattered to me was my giftee’s, so no complaints there either =)
Fic(s) you completed this year
Five of them!
See No ****, Hear No ****
In Full Bloom
Pray, Love, Remember
My Heart’s Your Future
Closest To My Heart Jp ver
The fact that Liminal Spaces is NOT on this list kind of bums me out since I spent a significant part of the year working on it… but oh well, at least it was only because it was necessary for me to complete a different cool & fun project I wanted to do before a certain deadline. Time is a construct anyway, right? 🤪
Longest/shortest completed fic you wrote this year
My only completed fics this year were one-shots 😝
Longest: See No ****, Hear No **** (6430 words)
Shortest: In Full Bloom (2838 words)
Fics you’ll continue next year
Liminal Spaces, which I can hopefully finish off by late Jan or early Feb. I tried my hardest to get chapter 6 in under the wire for the end of 2024, but as of now it’s only half edited. It’s still extremely close to being finished though, I’m hoping to have it up before my holidays are over!
And of course I’m still working on Where The Dead Forget, which after LS I’m resolving to make my priority for the time being, even if it will surely continue to be part of my New Year’s resolutions for the next couple of years 😆
Favorite character to write about this year
Always Patroclus Hadesgame!! I feel like I got to write him a lot this year and idk his voice is always in my head in a way that isn’t necessarily the case with other characters I write, so it seems easier for me to figure out what he might say in a given situation. No matter the universe he’s always a bit charming and dignified, a bit acerbic, a bit sweet, and sooooo fun!
Favorite writing song/artist/album of this year
I’m pretty sure the Hades 2 soundtrack has been on constant shuffle/repeat since May… although I also spent a lot of the summer listening to my Liminal Spaces playlist. I’m planning to curate it a bit more and then share it sometime soon… possibly when the story is finished!
Favorite closing line from a fic in 2024:
I’m sharing the whole closing scene, because the reason I like it is this narrative payoff, and I enjoy the dialogue & pacing. It’s from the end WTDF chapter 7 so SPOILERS:
“Achilles was the commander of the Myrmidons... Phthia’s own crown prince… You were his own personal companion, were you not?”
Patroclus is perhaps more surprised by this information than he thinks he ought to be. And yet, simply hearing the words spoken, there is the sense that it is true—a truth so natural and plain it would almost feel dishonest to deny it. Still, Patroclus elects to act with restraint, yearning to know more, coveting any modicum about Achilles as he can.
“What makes you say such a thing, son of Zeus?”
Sarpedon inclines his head, perhaps finding the guarded tone of his response to be unexpected.
“I apologize. Forgive me for assuming, but… is that not the son of Peleus? Just there—“ He points to Patroclus’ left shoulder. Patroclus eyes strain to follow, uncomprehending.
“Pardon?”
Sarpedon smiles gently, his kind, dark eyes filled with something akin to pity.
“On your brooch,” he says. His tone is patient, delicate; as if speaking to a beloved relative who is losing himself to dotage. Patroclus is not sure it is something he appreciates, even if it comes from a place of kindness.
“On my— what?” The angle prevents him from seeing it properly, and so he unhooks the fibula, removing it from his cloak for a better look.
“It could also be a woman,” Glaucus leans over to say to Sarpedon. There is a sly smile on his lips, the tip of his winsome canine peeking through. “Perhaps it was the symbol of their cause—the promise of Helen’s lovely visage spurring all the Greeks to battle day in and day out.”
Patroclus laughs. He cannot help it.
How did he not notice it before? The brooch is made of fine polished gold, and engraved with the profile of a beautiful youth whose striking features are framed by lovely, long curls. He can easily imagine Achilles as the same person—older and wearier, perhaps; his shade the mellowing ardency of late summer, rather than the full flush of spring—but certainly just as beautiful.
Patroclus is still staring at the image—the only thing in the world that exists—even as distracted words tumble from his mouth, barely discerned by his own ears.
“I am sorry. I must go.”
Favorite opening line from a fic in 2024:
Kind of stumped on this one again this year because I feel like the ability to write banger, attention-grabbing openings is a weakness of mine. But I think if I had to pick one, it would also be from WTDF chapter 7:
Patroclus looks up at the sound of Achilles’ approach.
Achilles stops short, a few paces away from him at the top of the stone staircase, uncertain if he ought to come any closer. He assesses Patroclus’ mood carefully. There is recognition in his face this time, but it is impassive—whether Patroclus feels joy, annoyance, or nothing at all at the sight of him, Achilles cannot say. He wonders if this is what their reunion would have been like, had none of this happened. If only he had ever tried to imagine it.
Favorite line/scene you wrote this year:
I wish I was sharing some kind of beautiful and deep prose that says something profound about my OTPs in a way that makes the muses weep but unfortunately deep down I am just a simple gooner and I’m afraid the moment from this year that brings me the most joy is this one from Liminal Spaces chapter 3:
He brings a hand between Achilles’ thighs, his upturned fingers smearing oil all over his entrance until it feels slick and wet. He then pushes in curiously, using a single digit. There is resistance at first, but as soon as he gets past it, his finger quickly slides in all the way in without any additional effort.
Achilles moans at the feeling. He sits up on his elbows to clutch at Zagreus’ wrist, controlling his hand so that he can fuck himself with Zagreus’ finger. He makes Zagreus move in and out of him at a brisk pace, rolling his hips slightly, meeting the thrusts. He bites his lip, his face taut with pleasure.
“Holy shit,” Zagreus says, mesmerized. “I need to be inside you so bad.”
Achilles pulls Zagreus’ finger out of him, and directs the hand to Zagreus’ cock, now making him stroke himself, spreading the oil around. Zagreus squeezes himself, already trying to imagine what Achilles will feel like with Zagreus full inside of him. He shakes Achilles off to regain control of his hand, and then grabs Achilles’ hips, pulling him closer. Zagreus holds onto himself as he lines them up, starting to press in.
Behind them, the kitchen door swings open.
The sound of Patroclus’ footsteps stroll past, heading behind the counter. Zagreus hears the clinking of glass, and he turns to watch as Patroclus procures a wine glass from a high cabinet shelf. Patroclus emerges from the kitchen area, approaching them with the glass in one hand and the wine bottle from his room in the other. He hefts his weight onto the dining table before pouring himself a drink. He rests his elbow on a folded knee as he takes dainty sips from the glass, the other leg swinging over the edge. He looks like a king, settling in to preside over the bloodsport he loves; ready to play arbiter over the lives of wild beasts and of men.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” he says. “I just needed to retrieve my wine glass.”
“Come on,” Achilles says. “Hurry up and fuck me.”
The whole thing just cracks me up so bad!!! The mental image of Patroclus casually coming into the room and walking past where this dude is about fuck his boyfriend, taking his time to get a wine glass, and then the first thing out of his mouth is this really obvious statement about what he was just doing. Meanwhile Achilles is so impatient, because of course Zag had to stop and stare at Pat the entire time 😭 idk it is just extremely funny TO MEEE
Fic I’m most proud of in 2024:
I feel like I tried a lot of new things to challenge myself this year that I’m proud of: fics about ships I haven’t written before (Persenyx and Mobuhan), a multi-chapter fic (Liminal Spaces) with a more substantial, but still self-contained plot (and managing it to keep it pretty much within the word count I was expecting for it), and translating one of my fics based on Greek mythology into Japanese, which was really fun but also required a lot of extra reading/research so that I could do it properly… not only did I play Hades in Japanese but I also kept my Japanese translations of the Iliad and The Song Of Achilles close by and all three of them influenced my translation choices in various ways!
BUT idk, if I based my criteria on what I think is nicely composed prose as well as something I like going back to reread for myself, I actually think it’s See No ****, Hear No ****. I just enjoyed the whole concept & challenge of describing the same erotic encounter from two different perspectives which are deprived of their sight and sound respectively, and how relying on other senses affects the experience for them in different ways (but also giving a reader the complete picture when they finish reading both.) I was amused by my own little inserted Easter eggs and parallels, and if you read them side by side, the events more or less lineup (because I actually did write them physically side by side from one another!)
A fic you didn’t expect to write
My Heart’s Your Future. Its existence is definitely a case of the story evolving as I write it… I keep looking for more opportunities to insert references to classic/influential vaporwave songs as I write Liminal Spaces, and what happens in chapter 5 was always in the outline, but I wasn’t sure what music would be playing, other than the fact that it would have particular nostalgic/sentimental value for Achilles & Patroclus. And once I figured out what it would be, I wanted to explore that a bit more, especially since LS is from Zagreus’ POV so he often doesn’t understand what’s going on in A&P’s little world :) It’s just a bit of a bonus if someone read chapter 5 and was confused, or wants a bit of context going in. Or it can just be for anyone who wants a quick fix of Patrochilles banging… because I mean who doesn’t want that?? (Don’t answer that.) :3c
Fics you wanted to write but didn’t
Oh god lmao… there was this one pza fic that I was getting off the ground in a fit of inspiration and literally as I was typing in the document, Hades 2 Early Access dropped and distracted me away from it completely 😂 and then a couple of days after that I was made a group leader for an event at my kid’s kindergarten so it was a one-two punch to not only that fic but also I wouldn’t get any writing done at all for the next month afterwards 💀💀💀 Hopefully I can revisit it again sometime next year!
Something you learned this year
It’s actually ok to split up chapters more, they don’t have to be so long… it’s easier to edit and easier for people to read :)
(But will I take this to heart? Unclear.)
Current number of wips
Number of wips already published and currently being serialized: 2
Number of unpublished wips: uhhhhh I have 12 additional projects in my scrivener program… whether the docs are blank or have decent progress made on them, who can say 😂
Any new fics to start next year
I have a fic due in a couple of weeks for this year’s Hades gift exchange event that I’ve already started working on, so idk if that counts exactly but it’ll certainly be my first newly published fic of 2025!
I think once Liminal Spaces is done, my plan is to just work on WTDF for a while until inspiration compels me to either complete one of my other WIPs or start a new one completely… and as a lot of you probably already know, inspiration striking for a new story is a “suddenly, at any moment” type situation. Who knows what I’ll have done by this time next year! I sure don’t! Kind of an exciting thought, though :)
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coraniaid · 10 months ago
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20 questions for fic writers
Thanks to @isagrimorie for the tag!
1 How many works do you have on Ao3?
14
2 What's your total Ao3 word count?
452,732
3 What fandoms do you write for?
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and technically Angel, I suppose, but not really), Mass Effect (but not recently)
I've also tried writing some Avatar: The Last Airbender and Farscape and Person of Interest works over the years, but nothing that I've finished yet.
4 What are your top five fics by kudos?
Coexist: Season 3 Buffy AU in which it was Giles, and not Jenny, who was murdered by Angelus in Season 2 [27 chapters; 277,084 words; various POVs but mostly alternating Buffy/Faith]
Last Year's Rain Didn't Fall Quite So Hard: Season 4 Buffy AU in which Faith wakes up from her coma having forgotten about killing Allan Finch and everyting that happened afterwards [one shot; 16,904 words; Buffy POV]
Together: Season 3 Buffy AU in which the Homecoming Dance goes a bit differently [one shot; 2,711 words; Faith POV]
Done: post-canon Buffy fic set a few years after the end of Season 7, with Buffy having mostly stepped back from being an active Slayer [one shot; 4,312 words; Buffy POV]
Mixed Signals: post-canon Buffy fic looking at Faith's changing relationship with Buffy since first meeting her [one shot; 4,919 words; Faith POV]
5 Do you respond to comments?
Not often or promptly enough. I try though: I really do appreciate the comments I get a lot.
6 What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Think this is a toss-up between two different canon-compliant Faith POV one-shots: One Girl In All The World and Calling.
7 What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Together is the happiest and fluffiest thing I can imagine ever writing.
8 Do you get hate on fics?
I don't think so? None that I can remember anyway. (I do use the block and mute features on Ao3 though, so maybe I'm just blissfully ignorant.)
9 Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
No. Just don't have the talent for it.
10 Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I don't have any published crossovers but I do have very vague ideas for a Buffy/Farscape crossover that I sometimes play around with in my mind. (Largely inspired by the joke of taking the couple of times Crichton makes references to 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' which his crewmates don't get, and pretending that they're right to assume he's talking about a person he knows rather than a TV show he used to watch.)
11 Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge (and honestly I'm not sure I'd want to know if I had?).
12 Have you ever had a fic translated?
If I have I don't know about it (and I would love to know if I did!).
13 Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No. I think it might be fun, but I'd probably have to change the way I write a lot.
14 What's your all time favorite ship?
Moya!
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I mean, look at her!
(Oh, okay, it's Buffy/Faith, if that wasn't obvious.)
15 What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I'd love to finish either of my uncompleted Mass Effect fics (the first and longest, Residuum, is actually fully planned out and has been for years: I just got stuck on writing a particular chapter and never managed to come back to it; I had a fairly detailed plan for Night Winds in Nos Astra when I posted the first chapter but then I decided I hated it and never figured out how to fix it.)
16 What are your writing strengths?
Dream sequences. Internal monologues. Foreshadowing. Planning. Quoting bits of canon back at the reader in hopefully interesting ways. Hopefully getting the characters' voices sounding reasonably accurate.
17 What are your writing weaknesses?
Deadlines. Brevity. Physical descriptions. Titles.
18 Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I haven't really thought about it much before, honestly.
19 First fandom you wrote for?
Mass Effect is the first fandom I submitted anything for anywhere online. I wrote some Avatar: The Last Airbender fic before that though (a long Azula POV AU that I would kind of like to come back to one day, though I'd probably have to rewrite it from scratch).
20 Favorite fic you've written
Realistically, I think popular consensus must be correct that Coexist is the best thing I've ever written (though I sometimes wish I'd spent more than a minute thinking up a title). It's definitely the work I'm proudest of, and I think it contains some of my best writing (and ... well, most of my writing, based on the numbers I just posted). But I have a bit of a soft spot for some of my earlier Mass Effect fics, which aren't incredibly polished but I learned a lot from working on, and for Last Year's Rain Didn't Fall Quite So Hard as well.
Tagging: @juanabaloo @beatriceeverytuesday @explosionshark @bodytoflame-ao3 and anyone else who wants to do this.
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reviiely · 1 month ago
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Fic Writer Review
Many thanks to @kings-highway for the tag! I haven't done one of these in a hot sec :P
More under the cut:
"How many works do you have on ao3?"
Well. In total, the number is 56. Five are from the account that shall not be named and 51 are from my main one. I only have 16 Haikyuu works but hey, I started like five months ago and that's already pretty good in my standards.
"Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?"
Oof. I've been writing for marvel for ages but the top spot is a Haikyuu fic.
a chemical change in the brain- 271 kudos
this was my second Haikyuu fic on my main and the reception to it was so lovely and it really made me want to continue writing for this fandom because everyone was so so sweet
2. The World We Knew (Over and Over)- 261 kudos
one of my favourite ones that I've written and the longest running project I've ever attempted to write and it took such a ridiculous amount of time like tell me how I managed to write 2k+ chapters PER DAY while going to school and replying to all the comments and not wanting to give up like wow did this plotline have a grip on me
3. 7 Minutes In Heaven- 242 kudos
aha the... the fic that made me contemplate never making out with anyone ever seriously and I really think I might just... never do it because the way I described their tongues touching each other... shudders and shivers down my spine... it was an absolute nightmare to write but everyone was really nice and I got a new friend out of it so
4. pretty- 221 kudos
my one and only kuroken centric fic and it's like my third haikyuu fic ever and maybe it's just because I posted them in the summer but they were up there pretty quick actually but I don't have much to say about this one lol
5. "Tell me where it hurts."- 202 kudos
ahhhh the fic that started it all. literally the fic that made me begin my sunglasses series that I've heard praised so much and made me fall in love with writing all over again
"Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?"
Yes! Because I have no life and I love talking to people. Also I didn't used to but once I started writing more consistently, I also started replying more consistently. Mostly for sunglasses and the other stories. It really helped that I had returning commenters lol.
"What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?"
Uhhhhhhh. Ummmm. I guess it would have to be Out of Time or The Next Big Thing because those are both MCD, but both aren't angst angst I don't think? Out of Time's ending is technically a happy flashback and The Next Big Thing is a canon death but from the perspective of different characters after being twisted by my au... I guess it's up to the readers lol. I don't usually write angst but (shameless advertising) I'm writing this Iwaoi fic where some death happens and that counts as angst, right?
"What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?"
Shit y'all, all of my fics have happy endings (sans the MCDs)(one is an AU of an AU that I wrote to appease a fan and the other one gets brought back to life and gets together with his crush so like)... I don't know. My kagehina maybe. 7MIH. Take your pick. All of my Haikyuu fics have happy endings I think. My marvel stuff is a little iffy but I wouldn't read them anyway just for quality reasons.
"Do you write crossovers?"
Uhhhhhh... (checks my fandoms) no. Unfortunately, my brain doens't like to imagine cross-media (aka novel to tv series for example) crossovers and the ones that I could cross over already have too much going on (marvel). And generally... I don't really wanna.
"Have you ever received hate on a fic?"
Not that I know of. I've had spam comments and 'pls continue' comments but everyone in my works are pretty well-behaved and none of the fandoms I write for are active enough to be angry.
"Do you write smut? If so, what kind?"
... Looks away in minor...
................. yeah but just to be funny................... so crack... i guess.................
"Have you ever had a fic stolen?"
I've seen my stuff on random fic platforms but idk I don't care. Attention is attention and any publicity is good publicity or whatever.
"Have you ever had a fic translated?"
Nope but I've gotten comments in different languages once or twice that I had to put into google translate so I can respond exactly the same way as I do every single time!
"Have you ever co-written a fic before?"
Yes! One with my dear friend Anna a long time ago that we just kinda abandoned that I actually almost forgot about. And I'm listed as a co-creator on altruist but that's only cause I like formatting and I get a rush when I'm posting things.
"What’s your all-time favourite ship?"
Uhhhhhhh... daisuga...? They're the safest option to read usually and I'm more into them than most of the other ships I read (sorry to everyone who knows me from marvel but I don't read much from there and I haven't read much ushiten because I haven't been reading anything lately anyway)
"What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?"
Either the Funny Thing About Hope or Ushijima Wakatoshi Is Not Invincible. Planning both of those were so fun but my god I have not been able to get back into writing them. And also my aos rewrite but at least that one has a nice clean ending. Y'all can pretend that Wonderful World doesn't exist.
"What are your writing strengths?"
I talk a lot about nothing! But formatting, mostly.
"What are your writing weaknesses?"
I'd make a self-deprecating joke and say everything but I wanna be honest and say that it's probably anything physical whether it be the kissy-kissies or a fight scene. And volleyball matches, can't forget those.
"What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?"
I come from a writing background of Harry Potter fanfic so usually italics is fine for me. When I was younger and writing for Marvel (which was primarily Natasha Romanoff, featuring her fluency in multiple languages), I usually used italics and the script that google translate gave me, not the romanized version. Now that I'm older and having written for Haikyuu, I think it depends on who's saying it/ the perspective it's in. If I was writing in Peter Parker's pov and Natasha Romanoff said something in Russian, I wouldn't say what she said. I'd just say 'she muttered something in russian' or something like that. People can do what they want though and unless it's an important plot device I don't really care how I or anyone does it.
"What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?"
I was actually talking about this with a new friend of mine today! I want to write for Kyouhaba someday. They're so cute and I haven't been able to because I've been on a block and I gave my one idea for them to Iwaoi so. Yeah.
"What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?"
I don't remember writing most of my fics. Or any of them. Even as I check the list, I draw blanks. Whose fics are these? Not mine. I've never seen these fics ever in my life.
That being said, I really liked writing Dictionary, even if it's one of the darker things I've written. I also really liked writing to build a home because 1) that was a gift to my darling friend Val and 2) it was so cute and fluffy and daisuga and just asdfghjkdhsh
That also being said, I have high hopes for this iwaoi fic so maybe if I end up writing and finishing it, maybe it'll be my actual favourite lol
Thanks for the tag, and the next people I'm roping into this are: @bubbletealife, @sleepyricee, and internet wine aunt @gammacousin (sorry for the random tag lol)
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librathefangirl · 1 year ago
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i need to know about all of these fics NOW (no pressure take your time ofc ofc)
Wrath of a Captain
Moment of Rest (a Decade Too Late)
Hitmen!Demon bros AU
Galand exposes Meliodas' demon secret
How to Demon (Yes, Captain, This is Really Necessary)
Meliodas and the Kids AU #1
also never realized how silly i name my documents till now 😭😭😭‼️‼️‼️
Ahh hearing you excited about all these is making me excited to write them again (hoping to get back to writing more soon - october was a mess and a half :( but I have 2 whumptober fics that I almost finished that should maybe might be posted soon?)
Okay so...
Wrath of a Captain
Fun fact about this one is that it was one of (possibly the) first nnt fic ideas I wrote down when I first got into the fandom. Tho in what - 1-1,5 years? - I've still barely started writing it (oops). But not for lack of interest! I'm still excited about this one, I just haven't been able to specify the scenario enough to start writing (I keep getting distracted by other fic ideas lol).
To summarize the idea in three words: Protective Captain Meliodas.
And here's a rough summary I wrote for myself:
The Seven Deadly sins were a well-known force only fools would take lightly. Though faced with a captain that was small and short, and seemed the complete opposite of wrath itself, it was easy to underestimate him. But just because the captain didn't get angry, didn't mean he never got close. Especially if one were foolish enough to dare attack his team.
A Moment of Rest (a Decade Too Late)
This is a fic I started this summer and then kinda forgot about (oh the art of finishing a fic before moving on to the next one). It takes place after the Capital of the Dead arc and deals with the aftermath of Sins being split-up for 10 years from King's perspective. Now, I can't remember, if it originally was supposed to be "Meliodas was alone for 10 years" angst or "Meliodas was alone for 10 years and demons don't do well in isolation" angst, but it's probably gonna end up being the second one now. Which means the rest of the Sins, while not knowing Meliodas' full story, knows he is a demon and how these past 10 years would have affected him because of it.
Here's a little sneak peek:
The princess had already retired into the Boar Hat, while Ban had simply settled for grabbing Meliodas and sprawling out on the ground. He wasn’t sleeping. His ease was a facade at best. King knew that he too was plagued by these past ten years, and the guilt they brought. It had never been supposed to go this far… Meliodas seemed dazed. A state hopefully only brought forth by the lull of sleep slowly claiming him. He wasn’t quite asleep yet though. To an outsider he might have seemed to be, but King knew him better. His guard was still firmly up, although slowly but surely being picked apart by Ban’s hand repeatedly running through his hair. Meliodas was curled up tighter than he normally would, yet at the same time more relaxed than King had seen him since before they were framed. His head was neatly tucked on top of Ban’s chest. Ear over his heart, no doubt. He’d always had a particular fondness of that, their captain. Easily soothed by the beat of a heart – by the beat of their hearts at least.
Hitmen!Demon bros AU
Oooh this one. thiiiis one! I'm still mostly in the planning stage for this one, but I can't wait until I get to share the full thing with you all. Like the name suggests, it's a modern (possibly slight futuristic) AU where the DK raised his sons as hitmen. It's gonna be a multichapter fic (probably my longest wip yet) and there will be lots of demon bros angst!
Fun fact, while the I had thought about this AU a bit, I wasn't necessarily planning on writing it at first. Then my mind provided me with this super angsty demon bros scene and an awful chapter cliffhanger, and well, now I'm invested. I need to know how this story ends. (If this sounds familiar, I did mention this once before).
Anyway, I have written the first 300-something words, setting up the angst before a jump back in time, so here's a sneak peek:
Perhaps one of the most defining moments in Meliodas’ life happened on January 29th the year he was turning 26. The day Meliodas found himself on a rooftop staring down his own little brother, a raised gun in both their hands aimed at each other. The only sound was the falling rain as the world itself seemed to hold its breath waiting for who would make the first move. At that moment, Meliodas had thought he had known exactly how the day would end. He had known it in the calculating part of his mind that he never could quite shut off, and had felt it in his heart that seemed to break every time he saw his little brother. He had thought he knew what would happen. He had been wrong. Everybody has a choice, but sometimes it doesn’t matter what you chose.
Galand exposes Meliodas' demon secret
Now this one I've shared a bit about before - partly to complain about my (still going strong) habit of stopping my writing in the middle of a sentence. Sadly, I haven't really made any progress since then. Mostly because I can't remember where tf the story was supposed to go (did I even have a plan?? I found the story aka the snippet of writing in a school notebook I hadn't used for months, so who knows).
Anyway! What I do know is that Galand fucks everything up on purpose, and is the one to reveal Meliodas' demon secret to the rest of the Sins. How the story continues from there, well, I'll figure that out eventually. For now, the last part of the fic looks like this:
It had all started with a confrontation with one of the Ten Commandments. Galand of Truth. He hadn’t even seemed to be looking for a fight – not in that moment anyway – King had noticed. He’d just been there to stir up trouble. Always playing games as usual¸ Meliodas had said. Well, games or not, Galand really had caused trouble. The demon had been quick to pick up on the rest of the Seven Deadly Sins’ surprise that Meliodas seemed to know him personally, and then deduced...DEDUCED WHAT??
How to Demon (Yes, Captain, This is Really Necessary)
This is actually a request/fic idea I got from a reader on ao3. It's also mostly still in the planning stage, having taken a backseat to my Febuwhump fic. But the idea is basically Melin giving a lesson on demons to the Sins with the (reluctant) aid of Meliodas. Or in other words, Merlin is sick of being (almost) the only one who knows how to keep Mel alive and will make it everybody's probably whether they want to or not. It'll also take place in the same AU as The Heat of the Storm (which means more of my demon thermoregulation, yay! - oh, actually, sidenote: I'm working on a post about that hc).
So, we'll have random demon lore/headcanons/stuff, some humor, and, of course, angst (probably more angst than should come from this otherwise humorous idea).
Meliodas and the Kids AU #1
The first of (at least) three fics taking place in the Meliodas and the Kids AU (aka Meliodas Adopts the Sins). In this AU, instead of the Sins becoming knights together way down the line, Meliodas ends up adopting/taking them in as kids* over the years.
Now, I use the term kids loosely here since neither King nor Gowther will actually be kids in the normal sense. But Gowther will be on his own for the first time and also still new to the world, and King, well, I still got some ideas for his relationship with Mel (and also, he is still significantly younger than Mel, so I say he still counts as his kid).
This first fic will consist of six chapters (one for each "kid"), exploring how Meliodas ended up taking them all in, and the dynamics of this mismatched little family (mostly the kids relationships' with Mel).
(Also Elizabeth is probably gonna be dead-dead in this AU).
Here's a sneak peek from the first (Merlin's) chapter:
When you find yourself stuck in time, it’s good to set up some rules for yourself, unless you want to lose yourself to madness. Meliodas didn’t have the luxury for madness. Madness was not going to solve anything. He would still be stuck here, unaging and undying, without an end in sight. Submitting to madness would also be admitting that the only purpose his life had left was suffering. An eternity alone in the human realm as a punishment for his crimes against the Demon King. His father was a huge asshole, okay? Meliodas was not about to give him the satisfaction of watching him break. So, he made some rules. The most important one was: do not get attached. [some other stuff not included in this sneak peek] Do not get attached. It was simple and important – and Meliodas had broken the rule before he had even made it.
(also I love your wip titles XD and will definitely send an ask for some ramblings of your own - but that will have to wait, I've got an 8am lecture in less than 7 hours and need to get some sleep, so Imma put a to be continued on the wip talk for now)
WIP Tag/Ask Game!
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