#and then it got stolen again in 2015

[ray935sworld]

Deaged Alex angst:

2025 Alex somehow loses 10 years. His mind back in the end of 2015/ early 2016 horrors but suddenly he is at the ranch and he just panics and runs when he stands infront of Rossi because he genuinely thinks he's gonna go against him, physically or mentally.

Then he runs into Marc. Older. Over 30. Closer to 35. More scars. His face not as soft as it used to be but his expression still as soft and loving towards him. Even more. Marc sees his 19 year old baby brother and cooes and wants to cuddle him but Alex steps back. Because. Why are they at the ranch? Both of them? Why is Marc wearing some shorts and an oversized VR46 shirt?

He had just comforted his crying brother. He had heard him sob and cry, yell, asking to be dead. His older brother was at a serious suicide risk. And now he learns that this Marc had end up marrying the man that was responsible for all that. He find out that yes *this* is the same universe. All that happened. This was Marc's future. He was doomed to end up with the man that broke him.

He is angry, scared, so he runs.

He knows the ranch and it's surroundings. He had been there. With Marc. But even more with Luca. His Luca.

They had been dating, got together between stolen glances and soft moments of young love, they had promised to stay together against whatever but Luca broke up with him due to the tension between the families.

Alex runs and hides at the one secrets spot he knew. A small spot Luca showed him, the place where Luca went when the ranch and everything else became too much.

An hour or so later, Alex is still there. He knows he has to get back eventually, after all he had no where else to go and he had heard Marc scream and chase after him. He knew Marc was worried. But he couldn't face him - this version of his brother - yet.

Suddenly an older man approaches him and sits next to him. He looks up and wants to scream. He knows him. But now Luca is 10 years older. Suddenly Luca is older than him. He still looks the same. Just older. With a beard. He is even hotter to the young man.

Alex is still angry but doesn't run from Luca.

Eventually Alex asks what he needs to know. "Are we dating again?" "Yes" "Are you gonna leave me again once they break up? Will our relationship always be tied to them? To him?" "Alex, I... I have never regretted anything like breaking up with you."

Maybe they go back to the ranch, Marc close to running holes in the carpet, Vale destroyed from guilt. He had known he had caused the Marquez family a lot of pain. But actually seeing pure terror and fear in what was his brother in law and his brothers fiancés eyes was completely different. He suddenly sees the pain he caused.

At first Marc is relieved to know Alex is back and okay but then he sees how hesitant Alex is with him. He stays close to Luca, doesn't even look at Vale (they have a heart to heart later) but Marc? Alex is barely interacting with him, never asking him anything and Marc hates it so incredible much, he wants to cry

..... I think I have a new title for the summer wips

[dearstvckyx]

𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩 ─ 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙭 𝙫𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᯓ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ʜʏᴅʀᴀ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ x ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ / 40ꜱ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ x 40ꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʀᴜɴꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ 1943 — ʏᴏᴜ. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ. ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʙʀᴏᴏᴋʟʏɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. ɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜʏᴅʀᴀ, ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ… ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ, ʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ʜᴀᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ, ʜᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛꜱ — ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ? [requested]

ᯓ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ | ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ

ᯓ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ (ʟɪɢʜᴛ), ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ (ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ + ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇꜱ), ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (ʜʏᴅʀᴀ), ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋꜱ, ᴘᴏꜱᴛ-ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ꜰᴇʀᴀʟ & ꜱᴏꜰᴛ, ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ✧ ʏᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ✧, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ʙʏ ʙᴜʟʟᴇᴛ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

♪ “ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ” — ʟᴏʀᴅ ʜᴜʀᴏɴ “ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ…”

✦•················•✦•················•✦•················•✦•················•✦

2014 - Washington DC

The Smithsonian was quiet that afternoon

School field trips had already shuffled through. Most tourists were outside, sun-drunk and unaware of the ghost wandering the Captain America exhibit — the one who moved too silently to be a regular man. He stood there, dressed in a hoodie too big and sleeves pulled down low. His jaw was clenched. His eyes were locked on a black-and-white photo of the Howling Commandos.

And your picture was next to his.

That’s how you found him again.

Or maybe — how he found you.

Your footsteps were soundless, but he must’ve sensed you. His head snapped toward the echo of your breath.

And then his whole body stilled.

“…You,” he whispered.

You nodded. “Me.”

His lips parted, but no sound came out. His eyes traced your face — every line, every flicker of familiarity.

“I know you…. Right?”

“You do,” you said gently. “Come, I’ll help you remember James.”

⸻

2014 - Your Home

You poured the tea, hands steady despite the storm in your chest. He hadn’t stopped watching you—not with suspicion, but with something deeper. Something broken and aching and desperate to understand.

“I know you,” he repeated, softer this time, like he was trying to convince himself. “I know your voice. Your face. I know the way you move.”

You set the cup down in front of him. “You do,” you said gently, sitting across from him. “But not all at once. It’s okay.”

His eyes dropped to his hands, fingers flexing like he could wring the truth from his own skin. “I see flashes. You’re in them sometimes. A laugh. A touch. Something warm.”

He blinked hard, throat bobbing. “But I don’t know what it means. Why it hurts.”

Your own voice nearly caught. “Because you were mine, James,” you whispered. “And I was yours.”

He looked up then, a sudden, sharp breath pushing through his nose. You could see the fight in him—the push and pull between instinct and amnesia. His lips parted, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“We were engaged,” you said quietly. “Before everything. Before Hydra. Before the Winter Soldier.”

You paused and looked at him, trying to catch his eyes but he was more focused on the trees behind you.

You continued “Back in Brooklyn, before you and Stevie formed The Howling Commandos, Before you were drafted. We were each others, forever.”

His brow furrowed, and for a second you thought he might shatter. But instead, he nodded, once. Slow. “That feels right.”

He reached out, unsure, and your fingers met his halfway.

“I don’t remember everything,” he said. “But I remember you feel like home.”

⸻

2015 - Romania

You helped him disappear. Quietly. Efficiently.

A forged passport. Cash. A stolen ID. You had connections — old ones. Not many people questioned a woman who never aged and knew how to bend shadows.

You got him to Bucharest through back routes and whispered favors. You rented a flat above a crumbling bookstore with faded curtains and low light. It was cold and small, but he liked that.

It reminded him of nothing.

Which meant it didn’t hurt.

Bucky barely slept. He paced when you weren’t looking. He flinched at sudden noises. But slowly — slowly — he started to speak.

First about Steve. How he had to protect him, or when Bucky had to try to get him out more without Steve getting hurt or to sick. To seeing him after Steve became a super soldier and saved his ass. To Steve being the last thing he saw before he “died” and the first person saw after getting out of hydras control.

Then about his ma. How she would make him her special soup when he was sick. Or scolding him for annoying his sisters. He had you asked you about his family, and you had told him they lived a long time. His father went first, passing after being hit by a stray bullet between a criminal and the police. His ma next, she passed peacefully. At home surrounded by her daughter and you, she passed from old age. And then, Rebecca, his sister, your best friend. She passed from child birth, and soon after the baby had passed due to being early.

Then about the girl he used to dance with in Brooklyn, the one he was supposed to take to the winter formal but got deployed before he could.

Then about you. And when he remembered your laugh, he cried.

Not in front of you. He never would.

But you heard it. The way the floor creaked when he fell to his knees.

Early 2016 - Bucharest

One night, the two of you sat on the roof. It was late. The moon hung low, full and watchful.

Bucky was wrapped in a blanket, hair damp from a shower, eyes squinting up at the stars.

“How are you here?” he asked, finally. “How are you alive?”

You looked down, sighing into the cold air. “After you died,” you began, “and after Steve crashed the plane… I fell apart.”

You looked up at the moon, the only company you’ve ever had. “I stopped eating. Stopped sleeping. Wandered Brooklyn like a ghost. I don’t know how many months passed. Maybe a year.”

Bucky watched you, eyes locked.

“One night, I got jumped in an alley. I thought I was going to die. I was ready to.”

You smiled faintly. “But he didn’t kill me. He turned me.”

Silence.

You glanced at him. “I didn’t know what I was at first. Just that I stopped aging. Stopped dying. I could hear hearts beating two blocks away. The thirst came later.”

He looked away. “And you… stayed like this?”

“I learned to control it. I only feed on what I must. Never people. Never innocents. Just animals but like deer or bears, sometimes cows if there’s a farm nearby but I don’t eat them often.”

You added, quieter, “You think I would’ve lasted this long if I hadn’t learned how to wait?”

Another night. Rain fell softly on the windows. You were reading on the couch when he came into the room, half-shadow, half-moonlight.

He sat across from you. Knees bouncing.

“What if I turn back?” he asked suddenly. “What if the programming… comes back. And I don’t know who I am. And I hurt you.”

You looked up slowly.

“My James,” you said, voice calm. “I’m a vampire. You can’t kill me.”

He blinked. “That’s not—”

“I’ve been stabbed and burned and drowned,” you said, setting the book down. “And yet here I am.”

His voice broke. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” you promised.

You crossed the space between you and sank to your knees in front of him. Reached for his hands — still trembling, still strong.

“I’m not afraid of you, James.”

“You should be.”

“Then I should’ve been afraid of you in 1943. But I wasn’t. And I’m not now.”

He kissed you that night.

Not like a soldier.

Not like a weapon.

Like a man finally finding something he thought he’d lost forever.

And for the first time in decades, you felt alive again.

Part 2??

[biostris]

::Lord Betrayus x Reader Headcanons::

A/N: I already feel some judging eyes. I know the fandom for this show is probably DEAD as its final episode was posted in TWENTY FUCKING FIFTEEN (2015) but it was included with prime and I fucking forgot how much I loved this ghost.

CW: Mentions of toxic dynamics, love bombing etc.

He is a VERY greedy lover (in both sfw and nsfw sense). You have to leave? No you don’t, he’s forcing you to stay by his side. Think you can dodge his affections? How rude! He will kiss your face twice as much now. Of course since you’re the only person he respects and loves, he doesn’t want to chase you away so he abides by some boundaries.

Can be toxic at times. I mean, have you seen that tantrums he throws? Not to mention how he treats those twin Hiney Heads. Bad habits are especially hard to break when you’re so used to getting your way or people groveling at your wisps when you’re in a bad mood. His favorite is the cold shoulder because he feels it hurts the most.

When he seriously hurts you he panics. Once again, bad habits. He love bombs you, lavish gifts, unwanted affection, begging, the whole nine yards. He gets better about it, if you can say that? He takes notice at the discomfort at the expensive (stolen) gifts and tones them down in price to a lavish bouquet of flowers that wilt in the heat or a hand written love letter attached to a heartfelt apology.

Onto softer matters. He is surprisingly into PDA! He loves holding your hand, kissing your knuckles and neck. And of course he is careful, his clawed fingers are sharp and so are his teeth.

Calls you “My Queen/King/Majesty.” Love, Prince/Princess, Darling and sweetheart. I like to think that despite his disposition and tendency to throw tantrums he is a romantic. At least when it comes to his love.

He got a bit soft once you domesticated him.hes fond of you of course. Now he’s more content with ruling the netherworld, he may still be a bit hell bent on taking over pac-world but he’d much rather focus on you and your plans for the kingdom.

This was short but if people wanna see more of course I’m always happy to write more. I love Betrayus.

[eddiesheep]

Bro, Nintendo could NEVER make the Kafei side quest from Majora's Mask today.

(Just in case you're out of the loop, the Kafei side quest in Zelda MM is a storyline where a man called Kafei is cursed by the big bad of the game, Skull Kid, into being trapped in the body of a child only a few days before his marriage to a woman named Anju, and he's too ashamed to face his fiancée before he turns back and finds his sun mask that was stolen from him, which was supposed to be his wedding gift to his to-be wife.)

I can only imagine the chaos that would insue if MM was released today. I can picture the antis' reactions at the end of the quest where (SPOILERS) Kafei does get his mask back, but DOESN'T turn back into a man. The heartwarming final cutscene where Anju doesn't even question why her husband is now a child, she just kneels to his level and hugs him, just happy that he's there, and that he never abandoned her. Antis would be foaming at the mouth going "WHY IS SHE OKAY WITH THIS?? HE'S A CHILD! THEY CAN'T MARRY!! THIS GAME PROMOTES CHILD MARRIAGE!!!!"

You may argue, "but Eddie, MM got a remake for the 3DS in 2015, and still, no antis started a witch hunt for Nintendo then!" Which is true, nobody cared back then, but you have to remember! Most antis today are minors, and in 2015, they must’ve either been up to five to seven years old (give or take) or just come out of their mothers womb! They still didn't have the internet presence they do today, where they must be in their late tween years. Again, not to say that minors who are antis would be the only ones to find a problem with the Kafei quest, but I am 100% sure that they would be the ones to be more annoying/obnoxious about it with their death threats and harassment campaigns.

This is what's truly wrong with antis imo. They can claim to be "anti problematic" or "anti child endangerment" all they like, but what they truly are at the end of the day is anti art.

[fastcardotmp3]

“Eddie, come on,” Buck lets his head loll against the back of the couch, smiles like sadness and like melancholy. "We both know I already got my one.” Or: In bearing witness to each other's tragedies, Buck and Eddie become their own second chances. A slow burn series rewrite.

(all my friends) on ao3

i. (all my friends are) funeral singers

2015. It starts at a funeral in Santa Monica. cover art (7k)

ii. (all my friends are) broken promises

2018. “You’re the problem. Coming into my house and just— airing my business out for anyone to hear?” cover art. (26k)

iii. (all my friends are) witnesses

2019. "I'm glad it was you." cover art. (44k)

iv. (all my friends are) stolen memories

2020. “Listen to me, okay? You ever— ever— stop feeling safe? Buck, the moment you stop feeling safe again, first thing you do is call me. Understand? First thing.” cover art. (41k)

v. (all my friends are) scar tissue

2020.  “It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t get it entirely. The only person I’ve ever known that does is you, Evan. So let me have this, would you?” cover art. (50k)

vi. (all my friends are) dying stars

2021. “I don't feel safe.”  cover art. (78k)

vii. (all my friends are) second chances

2022. “I’m scared,” Buck breathes, mere inches between them, a whole lifetime between them, a shared tragedy between them, two. cover art. (69k)

tbc...

bonus: art by friends!

by @snowflake194:

picnic table

night by the pier

buck's keys

series covers (1-5); (1-6)

by @lennyjamin:

taylor kelly and the boys

lightning

#all my friends fic

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That

Usually I keep it casual (2)

Psychiatrist!Avenger!fem!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: The compound has been built, and training has begun. With the two of you living together now stolen moments are bound to happen.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 and w is 25, talks of depression, bit of angst, bit of fluff, talk of vo*it (once towards the end)

A/N: The moment between R and W is taken from the moment in WandaVision where they go through Wanda's memories so R is taking the place of Vision and says his lines in that moment.

June 21st 2015

The new Compound was finally built and all of the Avengers moved there to live and to train. You got a new office looking similar to your old one and before you could start moving your things in it was time to start training the new recruits.

Captain America and Black Widow prepare to train the new roster of Avengers, consisting of Falcon, Wanda, War Machine, and Vision.

You stand just off to the side of Cap and Tasha. "You ready to finally show off your powers?" Cap asks you as you smirk, cracking your neck to either side. 

"Oh Cap, you know I was born ready.” you tell him as your eyes glow purple. 

"Alright, line up!" You call out. The new recruits line up. "I have a simple task for you four, move me from this spot." You tell them and you hear Sam chuckle. 

"You deal with our emotions, how hard could it be to move you?" He asks. 

"Thank you for volunteering to be my first victim Sam!" You smile. "Please front and center. The other watch as Sam tries to move you in any way, but can't. Even using his wings he can't. Then Rhodey tries and still nothing, Vision attempts and you don't budge. You look at Wanda. "Well?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow up at her. She has this soft look in her eyes almost like a baby deer.

"I don't want to hurt you." Wanda says her being the only magic user besides you currently on the team. 

"Oh sweetie. You could never hurt me. Go on, hit me with your best shot." You tell her, her eyes and hands glow red as she unleashes attacks on you as you swipe your hand up, a purple force field looking much like Wanda's own magic comes to protect you. They all look at you in shock. 

"Oh did we forget to mention something?" You hear Natasha's condescending tone ring out behind you making you chuckle, catching the attention of the newest members. 

"I think we did Tasha." You say pulling the collar of your shirt down, showing off the glowing purple stone in your chest, looking similar to the mind stone in Vision's head. "I have the power stone in my chest. Really I'm the best of both worlds. Brains and brawns. The stone gives me psychic energy manipulation, force field generation, disintegration of objects I touch, energy absorption, magic empowerment, and of course superhuman strength and durability.

The new Avengers stood in awe as you revealed the Power Stone embedded in your chest, their expressions a mix of shock and admiration. You could feel the weight of their gaze on you, but you stood tall, unyielding, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Wow," Sam exclaimed, breaking the silence. "That's... impressive."

You chuckled, feeling a surge of pride at their reaction. "Thank you, Sam. But let's not get too distracted. We have work to do."

With that, you motioned for them to regroup, eager to put their newfound knowledge to the test. "Alright, let's try this again," you announced, positioning yourself in the center of the training area. "This time, I want you to work together to try and move me."

The recruits exchanged glances before nodding in determination. Sam and Rhodey took to the skies, while Vision and Wanda focused their powers, creating a coordinated assault.

As they unleashed their combined efforts, you could feel the energy swirling around you, pushing against the force field generated by the Power Stone. But despite their best efforts, you remained rooted to the spot, a testament to the strength of the stone's power.

"Keep going!" You encouraged them, a grin spreading across your face as you felt the thrill of the challenge. "You're doing great!"

For several minutes, they continued their assault, each attack more powerful than the last. But no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't overcome the barrier protecting you.

Finally, with a triumphant shout, they ceased their assault, panting and exhausted but exhilarated by the challenge. "I... I can't believe it," Sam gasped, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Believe it," you replied, your voice tinged with pride. "With teamwork and determination, there's nothing we can't overcome. You guys are new to being a team. I'm sure you'll be able to take me on properly soon."

As the others caught their breath, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement for the future. With this new team of Avengers and the power of the Stone at your disposal, there was no telling what this new team could accomplish together. And as you looked around at your teammates, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them head-on, united as one.

===========================================================

The Next Day June 22nd 2015

It's late evening after you had roused yourself to get a snack you notice Wanda's door cracked slightly as you forgo getting a snack and decide to knock on her door. "Open." She says similar to you when the two of you first met. You open the door fully and smile at her, but she doesn't have a smile to give you back. 

She has Malcom in the Middle playing as she is sat on her bed, a grey tank top, mostly covered by a black sweater hanging off her shoulder and tight black leggings. She's sitting with her legs crossed, a pillow in her lap that's she's leaning on. "If now isn't a good time I can..." you trail off. She pats the bed next to her, still no smile, but you can read her well enough that she wants company, she just doesn't always know how to ask for it. 

She looks away, pulling her sleeves over her hands and even though they're covered she still keeps tugging at them with anxiety. You sit next to her mimicking her posture as you grab one of her pillows from behind us and crossing your legs. She finally attempts a smile at you for half a second once you've settled. Then turns her attention back to the TV where Hal gets hurt and you chuckle. 

"I only watched Malcom in the Middle when it was on TV, but I tended to find Full House, Fresh Prince, and The Nanny playing when I'd go looking for late night TV." You tell her. 

"You like sitcoms?" She asks and you look at her with a warm smile. 

"Yeah I do. Never got the chance to tell you though." A smile creeps onto her lips without her knowledge. You unconsciously lick your lips as you stare at hers. She always somehow managed to look perfect and maybe it's the repressed emo girl that you used to be, but her in all black, and her black nail polish she just so happened to be your type. 

"Y/N?" You're pulled back to reality by her voice.

"Hmm?" You ask. 

"I asked what's your favorite sitcom?" She repeats and you think a moment, you end up letting yourself fall back against her bed, staring at her ceiling.

"That's honestly hard for me to answer. I'm not good with picking favorites." You look over at her. "I always feel bad when I pick a favorite anything as if the others aren't good enough or something." You confess to Wanda. 

"What about like top 3 or top 5?"

"Hmmm…” You think for a few moments, going through the list of sitcoms you've grown up with, contemplating about each for no more than a moment. “Full House, That 70s Show, Seinfeld, Friends, Golden Girls, and The Office is probably my newest obsession." She smiles before letting a laugh pass her lips. You smile, biting your bottom lip as you do so because she's just so, "Beautiful." I end up saying out loud. She stops and you can see her face redden. You scramble up off her bed. "Shit sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry I'll leave!" You ramble and as you turn to run you feel her grip on your wrist. You look back at her, eyes glowing. 

"If we're being honest with each other Doctor I'd like to let you know I think you're quiet beautiful yourself." She admits to you and something about her calling you doctor sends your brain into a frenzy and you can tell she's hearing every thought going through your head and you can't find yourself to even be mad about it right now as you step back to her, grabbing her face and kissing her.

The moment your lips met, it was as if time stood still. All the worries, the doubts, the fears melted away, leaving only the warmth of her touch and the sweet taste of her lips against yours. In that fleeting moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you, lost in the intensity of the connection we shared.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of emotions coursing through you, a mixture of desire, longing, and something deeper, something you couldn't quite put into words. It was as if your souls were reaching out to each other, seeking solace and understanding in the midst of chaos.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you found yourself gazing into Wanda's eyes, searching for any sign of regret or hesitation. But all you saw was warmth and affection, mirrored in her gaze.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have—"

But before you could finish your sentence, Wanda silenced you with a gentle touch of her finger against your lips. "Don't apologize," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with emotion. "That was... unexpected, but not unwelcome."

You felt a rush of relief flood through you at her words, a weight lifted from your shoulders. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for something more between the two of you.

As we sat there in silence, the glow of the TV casting flickering shadows across the room, you realized that this was just the beginning of your journey together. There would be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome, but as long as you faced them together, you knew the two of you could conquer anything.

With a smile, you reached out and took Wanda's hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as if to seal the unspoken promise between the two of you. As the two of you sat there, bathed in the soft light of the TV, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, side by side, as partners, as friends, and perhaps, if we were lucky, as something more.

Wanda pulls you onto her lap after moving the pillow away. She pulls you into a tight hug and whispers, "I've been so tired recently. It's just...it's like this wave washing over me again and again. It knocks me down and when I try to stand up it just comes for me again and I can't-" you hear her voice cracking, her emotion shifting along with her aura as you rub her back. "It's just going to drown me." She confesses.

"No...no it's not..." you tell her.

"Yeah..." She lets out a dry chuckle and you pull back, letting your hands find her cheeks again. You stare into those deep green eyes full of sorrow and hope there comes a point where you can see them full of joy. You’ve only gotten small glimpses of happiness from Wanda and all you wanted was for those glimpses to last longer until there was no sorrow left. 

"No it won't, I won't let it. Not now. Not ever. Do you hear me Wanda?" You're searching her tear filled eyes to see if on any level she believes you because you could only hope that your words offered some solace to her feelings. All you wanted to do was take some of it away, even just a little so she wasn’t drowning anymore.

"How do you know?" Her voice is cracking and soft, it breaks you to hear her like this.

"Well it can't all be sorrow, can it?" She's searching your Y/E/C eyes now, your thoughts even. "Tell me. What is grief if not love persevering?" You ask, a small tilt to your head. Her dam finally breaks as she cries and you shush her, helping her through it. "I've got you Wanda. Always. I'll hold you above the waves. I'd let myself drown before I let it take you." You tell her softly. “I can help take some of it away, would you like that?” You ask her, her tear filled eyes looking up at you and nods ever so slightly, but still asks,

“Will it hurt?” Her voice cracks as you rub her cheeks with your thumbs, wiping the tears away.

“No darling it won’t it’ll make you feel lighter. I don’t do it often. Bad emotions are disgusting. I have to take them out of you and eat them which I’m sure sounds weird and I guess in a way it is, but for you I’ll do it.” She nods once again, clinging to you as you move your hand to her back, rubbing a gentle circle. You can feel the physical manifestation of the emotions pulling them apart from one another, only taking out the pain and grief, not all just enough. 

A black oobleck is pulled out threatening to slip through your fingers as Wanda pulls back to look. You use both your hands to keep it contained as you bring it to your mouth. You open your mouth as wide as you can, tongue sticking out as you let the gooey orb fall into your mouth and swallow. Your face contorts and a shiver goes through your body like when you take medicine you can’t stand. It tastes like vomit in the worst way possible and the main reason you tended not to do this. 

You feel Wanda cup your cheeks and murmur, “You’re okay.” and “Thank you.” As much as you hated it, you knew you’d do it as much as she needed. You lean in, placing your forehead against her own, nuzzling your faces together as you feel your cheeks dampen from her tears. 

“No more tears darling.” You whisper, feeling her smile against you. 

The two of you eventually make it up her bed, laying against her pillows, small soft kisses are peppered in between things. There are no more tears from Wanda through the night as the show continues playing as she falls asleep on your chest. 

As Wanda rested against you, her breathing steady and her grip on you relaxed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the turmoil and uncertainty that surrounded you two, in this moment, all that mattered was the warmth of her body pressed against yours, the rhythm of her breaths lulling you into a state of calm.

You gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, marveling at the serenity that seemed to radiate from her even in sleep. She had been through so much, faced unimaginable challenges and losses, yet here she was, still fighting, still clinging to hope.

And in that moment, you made a silent vow to yourself, to always be there for her, to be her anchor in the storm, to hold her above the waves no matter how fierce they may rage. Because Wanda was more than just a teammate or a friend—she was someone you cared deeply for, someone you would do anything to protect.

As the soft glow of the TV bathed the room in a gentle light, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, knowing that no matter what tomorrow may bring, the two of you would face it together, united in our strength and our love. And as you held Wanda in your arms, you knew that as long as the two of you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way.

[obaex]

dying to tell you - jj maybank

summary: after a normal beach day takes an unexpected turn, jj has something he needs to say.

word count: 3.7k

tw: 🦈

a/n: inspired by real events that happened to professional surfer mick fanning in 2015 - it is wild to watch!! (see above trigger warning before taking a peek!)

It was the perfect beach day.

You pulled off your flipflops and the bottom of your feet and your toes were tickled by the warm sand. You could hear the woosh of the waves rushing to meet the shore and receding again, a familiar melody. It was early, so the beach was quiet but for the waves and the occasional call of the seagulls flying overhead as the breeze kicked strands of your hair up around your face and made the seagrass in the dunes shake. You smiled to yourself - home for you was this place and the person next to you. You snuck a glance at JJ only to find the same smile on his face, his surfboard tucked under his arm. The beach, and its overwhelming sense of calm, peace, rightness was a love you both share. Your friends were running up ahead of you, dragging coolers, chairs and more surfboards, but the two of you hung back, walking side by side, enjoying the moment. JJ reached out and tangled his fingers lazily in yours and you squeezed back.

A few other locals dotted the shore and several surfers bobbed in the sizable waves. This part of the beach was a revered locals spot, tucked far enough away from the hotels and tourists to remain untouched by their noise and disruptions.

You helped set everything up before unfurling your large blanket, pulling off your clothes and collapsing on top if it, ready to spend the entire day squeezing every bit of sunshine and vitamin D you could into your skin. You loved the hot weather, the way the sun's rays baked ten times hotter off the glinting ocean, the way your skin would feel salty and sticky by the end of the day. You would live here if you could.

The boys were eager to get in the water, haphazardly chucking their backpacks and tearing off their shirts, John B and Pope making a beeline for the water as Kie chased after them yelling something about sunscreen, a lost cause. JJ eyed the water eagerly but his eyes wandered back to you, outstretched in his favorite bikini, the shape accentuating every curve of your body and the color amplifying your tan skin and bright eyes. He wrestled with his choice for only a second before flopping onto the blanket beside you, eyes glimmering mischievously as he reached for you. He couldn't keep his hands off of you on any day, but you looked so tantalizing he couldn't help himself as he pulled you into him and you giggled. His lips found yours and you were immediately lost in each other, lost to the world. Sarah took one look at you both and rolled her eyes. "Every time" she muttered to herself as she walked away to give you some semblance of privacy, wanting to be salty but secretly so stinking happy that the two of you finally got over the stolen glances and dancing around each other to go from friends to more than friends.

He tasted like peppermint from his toothpaste, salt and sunscreen as pushed his tongue in your mouth and you ran your fingers through his tangled blonde hair, a small involuntary moan escaping you at the feeling of his body crushed against yours, his muscular arms around you. JJ responded immediately, and without missing a beat, he lifted you off the blanket, and began walking back towards the Twinkie, never breaking your kiss. "JJ!" you laughed in surprise.

"Can't make noises like that without me wanting to do something absolutely indecent to you, sweetheart. M'taking you back to the Twinkie to spare everyone on this beach the show of a lifetime."

"We just got here!" you said, swatting him playfully on the shoulder. "The boys are waiting for you, we can pick this up later, promise." You pressed your lips to his cheek, sealing the deal.

With a resigned sigh, he placed you back on your feet in the sand, a mischievous smirk resting on his lips as his eyes searched your face, the flirtatious energy lingering but something deeper now running under the surface of his expression. He cupped your face, running a thumb gently over your cheek and his lips parted like he was going to say something. You looked at him inquisitively, unused to him being so serious. As he met your gaze, he stopped himself and smiled warmly. You wanted to ask, wanted to know what he was going to say, but as his lips found yours again, your brain scrambled.

You had been together for a few months but neither of you had said those three little words. Big words, really. You had felt them for a long time, longer than you'd even been together, but you were still trying to navigate this whole thing. Your feelings were overwhelmingly strong but what you had with him felt so special you didn't want to disrupt the balance. The words were on the tip of your tongue, dangerously close to spilling over, like your body's involuntary reaction to his proximity; when you fell asleep in each other's arms, each time you hung up the phone and every time he kissed you and then gave you that look, that smoldering, soul-crushing, heart-squeezing smirk that he was giving you now. And then he was off, peeling off his shirt, grabbing his board and running towards the water, leaving you breathless.

Kie and Sarah made their way back to you as JJ crashed into the waves. They shared knowing glances at you and made sneaky comments. They loved to tease you even though they were your biggest supporters. The boys could surf for hours and that was fine for the three of you, it gave you much needed girl time to catch up and discuss all the things the boys would roll their eyes at. You were comfortably seated in your chairs, facing the water and passing around fruit and snacks chatting idly as you watched the boys surf. They were spread far enough apart in the water to give each other opportunities to catch the waves. It amazed you to watch them surf. You didn't know a lot about surfing, but you knew JJ was good, very good. You could see it in his practiced confidence on the board and the ease with which he navigated each wave. You loved to see him so happy and in his element.

You had turned your attention back to Sarah's story when you heard a loud splash. You had been coming to the beach your whole life, your mind and body in tune with every kind of noise and this one was not one you had heard before. It wasn't the splash of the waves, the splash of children playing, the splash of a surfer at the end of their run, this was loud, aggressive... foreboding. Your eyes scanned the water fast enough to see JJ seated and bobbing alone on his board, his back to you as he faced the oncoming waves before his head snapped back to look behind him as a large fin crested the water.

You were on your feet before you knew what was happening. It was probably only seconds but it felt like a lifetime, like one of those dreams you have when you're running but don't actually go anywhere, your feet pounding the sand, your lungs burning as you shouted for John B and Pope, JJ never leaving your sight. JJ's eyes found yours momentarily before the large fin resurfaced and he got knocked off of his board and you couldn't see him anymore.

JJ didn’t think he could ask for a more perfect day as he bobbed in the waves, feet dangling in the cool water beneath his board. In fact, ever since he had gotten the courage to tell you how he really felt, heavily aided by beer, his friends, and an unrelenting pounding in his chest every time you were close to him, it was like his life had gotten exponentially better.

He stared into middle space as he ran his thumb over his lips, deep in thought at the feeling of yours pressed against them, and reveled in the fact that he could still taste you. He didn’t know how he went without you for so long, now he couldn’t get enough. He loved you. He knew he did, and he’d almost said it to you. Today, and about a hundred times now, including the night he first confessed his feelings. He knew it then. He’d known it for awhile. In truth, he was dying to tell you, dying to get it off his chest. He almost word-vomited it on a daily basis, when you curled into his chest as you fell asleep, every time you scrunched your nose and bit your lip when you were focusing, the way you looked at him when he kissed you, eyes glazed with desire for him. Goddddd, he thought. But a part of him was still insecure. What did he ever do to deserve you? In what realm of possibility could you love him back? He was deep in thought when heard a loud splash behind him that snapped him back to reality as chills ran down his spine.

He knew before he saw the fin. He had been in the water when other surfers spotted sharks, and he John B and Pope did occasionally get that unexplainable sense of foreboding that pulled them out of the water, the intangible surfer’s sense that something simply wasn’t right and the risk wasn’t worth it. That feeling washed so quickly over him now that it felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He turned to see a large fin breaking the water behind his board as a dark shape moved beneath him, and that’s when he heard you. He turned to see you running towards the water and met your eyes just as the dark shape crested the waves and he was knocked off his board, into darkness.

John B saw you running towards the water and his first instinct was to laugh. You weren't unathletic but he'd never seen you move that fast before. He'd wanted to laugh until he heard the tone of your voice as you called his name. It wasn't joking, it wasn't fun, it was pure terror and his brain began piecing the puzzle together as he saw Sarah and Kie running towards other people on the beach, calling them out of the water and as you pointed desperately at JJ. John B turned his head quickly enough to see his best friend, the one person that had been there through every high and every low alongside him get knocked off his board by a tailfin as a large shape loomed in the water and he crashed into the sea.

He could hear Pope shouting at him but his heart was pounding and the blood rushing in his head made everything sound like he was underwater. Pope was paddling towards the shore.

"We have to help him!" John B cried, his voice high-pitched with emotion, knowing already that their efforts would be fruitless. What were they supposed to do? As far away as he was, he was already shaking as he tucked his own limbs onto his board, like this thin piece of fiberglass would do anything to protect him. He had seen the size of that shark, they were fucked.

JJ swam quickly to the surface, his body pulsing with fear, trying to get a sense of his surroundings, wanting to know what was around him but terrified to find out at the same time. He crested the surface, searching for his board, for any lifeline before deciding it didn't matter and he needed to get the fuck out of there. He began swimming strongly towards the shore, but panicked at the idea of the shark attacking him from behind so he stopped and turned around, frantically searching the water around him, kicking his legs and trying to swim backwards. He couldn't see a thing. He was hyperventilating and as he tried to suck in deep breaths water filled his mouth, causing him to cough. He continued to swim backwards, his eyes never leaving the dark water.

You had never felt as helpless in your entire life as you did standing on that beach, screaming, screaming for JJ, for John B, for Pope, for God, for anyone to intervene as your eyes searched the water for him, stomach roiling and mind churning with the worst possible outcomes. When you saw his head emerge from the waves, you began to run into the water.

"What are you doing?!" Kie shouted, exasperated as she threw her arms around you to pull you back.

"I have to go! I have to get to him!" you shouted back, trying to wrench yourself from her grip as you gestured to the waves. Wasn't if obvious? JJ needed you. Your whole heart was out there alone, bobbing in the water alongside an eight-foot shark. You wrestled in her arms, eyes never leaving the water as you watched him swim, heart catching each time a wave crested and you momentarily lost sight of him. He looked okay? Could that be possible? Was the universe that good? That he could look death in the face and still come back to you? Suddenly he stopped swimming for the shore and turned around, looking back in the murky depths, trying to backpedal, to backstroke. Did he see something? Was it coming back?

John B and Pope caught up to you both and Sarah put her arms tightly around John B as you watched. The group was stone silent.

Finally, it was too much for you, you shoved Kie off of you and sprinted into the water despite her shouts and the gasps of the crowd that had gathered. You were about waist-deep in the rough current, getting rocked by each wave when JJ finally turned to see you standing there, wading towards him.

"N-NO!" he shouted, motioning you back, moving as quickly as he could to force you back into shallower water, but his limbs were sluggish and tired and the current tugged him deeper. "GET OUT OF THE WATER!" He shouted, surprised at the anger and fear in his voice. You jumped slightly at that, never having been the object of JJ's anger before, but you didn't listen, you didn't care. You needed to know he was okay more than you needed to be okay yourself. You met him in chest-high water, your body crashing into his. He held you tightly, he wanted to enjoy this moment, but his brain and his body were still tightly wound in survival mode as he tugged you forward with him, needing to get you to safety, needing to know you were okay more than he needed to be okay. He wouldn't feel good about that until you were both firmly on dry land. When you were in ankle deep water, your friends converged on you, pulling you both into a hug as the small crowd that had gathered clapped and cheered, murmuring with disbelief at what had just occurred.

Everything thereafter was a blur. The beach day was over, no one wanting to spend any more time here after what had happened. Your friends buzzed around you, packing up the coolers and chairs and walking back to the Twinkie. You didn't leave JJ's side, didn't bother getting dressed or picking up your blanket, you stayed tucked into him, with his arms wrapped around you and he couldn't have been more grateful for the feeling of your body pressed to his, grounding him, a constant reminder that he was safe. The car ride home was mostly silent, the radio scratching in the background as JJ sat hunched over, his head in his hands, your head on his shoulder. You caught John B's eyes in the rearview mirror from his spot in the front seat, where he shared a brief, knowing smile with you. He's here, he's with us, it said. It's going to be okay, and I'm glad he has you.

By the time you got back to the chateau the mood was shifting slightly. There was still a heaviness in the air, thick with all that could have been, but the fog was parting and JJ couldn't stand the tension anymore. "I'm sensing a real heavy vibe right now" he said jokingly. "I don't know about y'all but I could use a fucking drink" and with that everyone cheered and his face lit up in a smile.

The night passed in typical pogue fashion with beers around the bonfire. Everyone was eager to shed the events of the day and relax, yourself included. You joined in on the fun but kept one eye trained on JJ, tracing his every move with your gaze. You told yourself it was to make sure he was okay, but a part of you couldn't stop staring, afraid that if you looked away for too long he would disappear again under a dark wave. He hadn't left your side, a hand resting on your thigh, an arm around your shoulders or tugging you to sit on his lap. He was always handsy with you, but this felt different, like you were a lifeline, a buoy he didn't want to let go of. You were in his lap, your head resting against his with his arms around you, his fingers tracing patters on your leg when he nuzzled into your ear, pressing a kiss along your jaw. "Hammock?" he whispered and you nodded, smiling as you hopped off his lap and the two of you made your way to the secluded spot amidst catcalls and whistles from your friends.

He settled into the swinging fabric first, holding it steady for you to crawl in to lay beside him. Your bodies fit perfectly together as the hammock swung gently back and forth, your head tucked into his neck, your arm around his chest. You felt him breath a deep sigh as his arms tugged you impossibly closer to him and he planted a kiss on your head. You turned to look at him and met his eyes, midnight blue in the starlight as he looked down at you.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. A simple question that had ten other questions behind it.

He nodded sincerely but didn't say anything. You had been hoping for more. Hoping to talk to him about this. If he wasn't going to say anything, you were going to have to break the silence.

"Jayj, I-I was really scared" you said, your voice quivering a little as you spoke. "I'm so glad you're okay. All I could think as I watched you out there was what I was going to do if something happened to you, I was out of my mind."

"I gathered that when you were sprinting into shark infested water while everyone was running out of it" he said, smirking as he pinched your arm playfully. You could tell he was trying to lighten the mood and that maybe he didn't want to talk about this, but you didn't want to talk about it with anyone else, you didn't think they'd understand.

"I'm serious, JJ. I guess I don't know how to explain it, I don't have the words for it. It was more than just the idea of not being able to reach you, of losing you, it was the idea of all the things we wouldn't get to do together. Like never having another bonfire night or taking a ride on your bike, or w-waking up in your arms or g-getting to k-kiss you or --" you could have kept going but your tears bubbled over and JJ's heart broke at the sight of you unravelling in his arms. He was holding himself together as best he could and he knew you were too.

"C'mere pretty girl, it's okay, I'm okay" he said as he wrapped you deeper in his arms and your tears left wet marks on his shirt.

"I'm sorry Jayj" you said, trying to collect yourself. "I know I'm probably blowing this out of proportion--" and hearing you apologize was the last straw.

"-- You're not" he said softly. "I felt the exact same way." He sighed. He didn't want to relive it, like maybe if you didn't talk about it, you could pretend it never happened.

"Really?" you asked.

"100%" he replied. "When I turned and saw you before I got knocked off my board all I could think is how far away you were and what I would have to do to get back to you. I was going to wrestle that thing if I needed to." You both laughed at that. "But for real, I know what you mean, I had the same thoughts. Even though I was absolutely shitting myself, it was like flashes in my head of you and all the things I still wanted to do and experience together... all the things I should have said..." he paused and fidgeted a little.

"Hey, look at me" he said finally, putting a finger gently under your chin and tilting it towards him. He smiled and met your eyes, wiping a tear off your cheek. "If I was shark bait today, my biggest regret would have been not telling you how I felt, how I feel. I-I love you. A lot. A whole hell of a lot. I have since before we were together. You're the first thing I think about in the morning and my last thought before bed. You're the girl of my damn dreams Y/N and I never want to do life without you. You're it for me, gorgeous. Full stop. No one else." He said it with more confidence than he felt as it came pouring out of him, relieved to finally have it off of his chest.

Now he was desperately trying to read your response. She's smiling, that's a good thing, right?

Yes, you were smiling. Grinning from ear to ear as you listened to the boy of your dreams absolutely gushing over you. You were speechless for a moment, grasping at the words to say, words you'd wanted to say for so long.

"I love you too" you said finally, "So much, JJ" you were able to eke out before he crushed his lips to yours.

ps: sharks are friends and are so important to our ecosystem and our lil' planet! you are more likely to get bit by another human than you a shark (fact), more likely to die from ants, elephants, hotdogs and texting than a shark attack (also fact), and they only bite because they are curious, they do not want to eat you (also fact). so, be kind, be respectful, support sharks. #endrant

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @m-indkiller, @maybankslover, @sickyrat

[transman-badass]

Which Image - A Chzo Mythos fanfic

Title comes from the song Witch Image by the band Ghost. If there's interest I'll write more and explain to my followers what this game series is.

Apologies to the people who wanted to be tagged in this, Tumblr isn't recognizing your urls. I'll try to tag in a reblog. Also apologies to the British if my American ass screwed things up. I'll make edits as needed.

London, 2015

In between the crackling thunder, a young man screamed in agony, sweet as the music of a harpsichord.

Footsteps pounded like the rain through the stolen, repurposed corpse of a building. An office, once, now a shell like any other mortal body. Down the many stairs the footsteps carried, sneakers squeaking wet on dirty tile. Down the stairs and through the halls, she ran.

Why the persistence? Too late, far too late, to save her friend. But the young woman resisted the obvious. Dark of hair and pure of heart, he could not harm her yet. He watched the sweat drip down her warm brown skin, how she brushed the strands of hair from her face. Standing, kneeling, struggling, suffering.

He watched and he wondered. Yes, he did wonder.

It'd been a strange choice, to offer up an American for a sacrifice, but Chzo was not a picky god. This young woman could not have looked more different from her light-haired friend. But in her eyes, a desperate fire burned, and looking away proved a challenge.

That fire… She reminded him of someone. How distasteful.

Of course, of course, too late for her friend. She opened the door to strangers standing over the remains. Of course, of course, too late for her. The cult would spare her, when they caught her, he would ensure it…

They did not catch her.

They did not even notice her, too consumed with their own escape. The Ministry agents closed in, fortune smiling upon them once again. She fled, they fled, and it had all gone wrong.

He could've been furious.

He could've been.

Instead, he stood upon the old building, his shadow stretching long in the light flashing overhead. He stood, and he watched her race into the darkness, her parcel, their parcel, clutched to her frail body.

He watched, and yes, yes he wondered.

She reminded him of someone… Cabadath wasn't sure he liked that.

It'd been almost twelve hours before anyone realized the girl was gone. Far too late to save her life. The Order of Blessed Agonies worked fast. But so did Trilby.

The Order must've been desperate to prey on tourists. They had to have known who they were choosing. The accents on these kids weren't subtle. Five of them came overseas on spring holiday, bright eyed and oblivious. Three headed home tonight. The other two would follow in coffins.

“Trilby,” one of his supervisors said, “I know what you're thinking. Don't put yourself at risk to try and save this kid.”

“I'm already at risk,” he'd said. “What's a little more?”

“We need you alive - and so do they.”

And that was the thing, wasn't it? The Order wouldn't keep this girl, this Jillian Taylor Cortez, alive, but he couldn't say they'd do the same with him. Damned prophecies…

Her name was Jillian Taylor Cortez. She just turned 19. Mexican-American mother, British father. Got her middle name because the latter died before she was born, so said her friends.

She looked nothing like Simone Taylor. If she had, Trilby might've lost it again.

Twelve hours, they found the boy, or what was left of him. They'd followed the muddy footprints from the ground floor all the way to the altar. Trilby followed them back up, frowning. Pretended he didn't see the glances between the ones around him.

He had a hunch.

Just a hunch, but he'd been doing this for almost twenty years now. Just a hunch, he'd say later… but he'd been right before.

“Don't you dare!” Someone shouted at his back. “Damn it, Trilby! Get back here! It's not worth it!”

He ignored them, ignored the rain soaking his suit. Wasn't breaking the rules if nobody up top told you not to. Besides, he was just following a hunch. Just giving a quick check around the buildings. No harm in that.

No harm on her, when he caught her dead center in the light of his torch.

He stared at her and she stared right back, her eyes wide and hollow. The rain soaked her right through, plastering clothes to skin and hair to her cheeks. The bow in her hair, half undone. The fear in her eyes, too painful, too real.

Trilby raised a hand.

“Jill-”

She bolted.

“Wait! No!”

Trilby followed.

The kid knew how to run. Ran through the streets like the world was ending. Trilby kept up. He wasn't young anymore, he'd feel it for the next few days, but he kept up. So did the rain.

Only took a few wrong turns. She didn't know anything about the area - neither did he, to be fair. Was only a little bit of a surprise to find themselves in another alley, to come across the fence blocking their way. Was a very big surprise when the girl ran right for it.

“Jillian!” He shouted over the thunder. “Jill!”

Did she even hear him? She didn't stop. Lunged for the fence, one hand grasping the chain link metal. Trilby moved faster than her.

He grabbed her around the waist. She screamed. They both hit the ground, he let her go and she scrambled backwards. He shifted, sat up, looked her in the face again.

Terrified eyes, wide and wild. It wasn't just the rain soaking her cheeks, the spring weather shuddering her shoulders.

Trilby raised his hands.

“Jillian,” he said. “It's alright, Jill. I'm with the Ministry of Occultism. We're here to help you. I can't believe you're still alive…”

She breathed. She held the book in her arms tight. Book? He looked down at it. Heavy, large, leather bound. Some kind of writing on the cover.

Oh my God, he thought. Did she steal that from the Order?

Trilby looked up to her face again. Her eyes locked onto something over his shoulder.

Trilby jerked out of the way. The blade buried into the ground he'd stood moments before. Trilby moved, backed away as far as he could go, the blood draining from his face.

“Oh, hell,” Trilby said.

The featureless face of the Prince of Pain tilted towards him. Cabadath had not changed at all in the last twenty years. Bone chilling, even after all these years and all their meetings. Still ever the same, nine feet tall and dressed in black, the rain coursing down his long coat and leaving the fabric dry. The Prince straightened in slow motions, raising the four pronged scythe and resting it by his side.

Still the Prince stared at him, though he had no eyes to do so. He raised a hand and pointed to the girl.

Jill. She'd gotten out of the way just in time. Trilby couldn't risk looking away from the Prince for longer than an instant, Cabadath moved too fast, but she still breathed, standing against the fence. Her eyes, still wild, locked onto the terror between them.

Had Cabadath been chasing her too? The Prince had powers like no human ever could. Hallucinations were a favorite, Trilby knew that from experience.

The Prince waited.

Trilby took a breath.

“Jillian,” he said. “Give him the book.”

She did not move but her whole body shuddered with her breath.

“He's playing nice right now,” Trilby said, eyes locked on the Prince, “but he doesn't have to. You don't know what he's fully capable of, you've just seen part of it.”

Jillian did not move.

“There's nothing in that book that can help you,” Trilby said. “You don't want to get involved with this more than you have been. I don't know how you got it, but you need to give it back. Before he takes it from you.”

Her body shuddered. Jillian blinked, hard. The Prince did not move. He did not look away.

Her arms unlocked. She took another deep, shuddering breath. Holding the book in careful hands, she laid it upon the ground at her feet, and stepped away. And away. And away.

Trilby watched the Prince. He did not notice where the young woman moved to, until she stopped. Stopped between him and Cabadath, facing the Prince, her arms stretched out as if she could protect Trilby from the monster watching them.

Protect him from Cabadath. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at the thought.

The Prince tilted his head. His gaze shifted towards the girl. Trilby placed a hand on Jillian’s shoulder. Cabadath’s shoulders shook, as if in silent laughter. But of course, no sound came from the Tall Man. They were not worth the effort.

Turning away from the mortals, Cabadath stepped toward the book. He knelt, and with one long free hand, picked it up. Turning fully back towards the two humans, he bowed a mocking thanks. Trilby set his teeth, held Jill's shoulder as she flinched.

As the Prince straightened, he vanished. The rain poured down over them and the tension disappeared from Trilby's body. Cabadath truly was gone. For now.

Jillian sobbed.

Trilby's focus snapped to her again. Shit.

“Jill?”

She placed her hand over her mouth as the sobs shook her body.

“Cal,” she whispered the name of her friend. “Cal, I'm sorry.”

He couldn't think of anything to say. Trilby wrapped an arm around her and pulled out his phone with the other. How long had it been ringing?

“Yeah?” He said. “Yeah, I'm alright. Yeah, we're both okay. I found the girl, she's alive. It's… it's a long story. I'll explain everything back at headquarters.”

Trilby held the young woman against his body as he led her back into the light. He glanced uneasy at the roofs above them, expecting a tall shadow staring down, but only the rain waited overhead, the drops falling down between her tears.

[demigoddessqueens]

One more set of song asks. Same drill as before. Y/N reader and CR Bois

You got it!! 🫡

A/n - and you need to send me a happy request after this 😀 cause these were so sad

Masterlist 10

Vax looks at you and is so infatuated. Honestly he didn’t think he would be with anyone such as yourself despite the back and forth between him and Vex.

Will you or won’t you?

For the longest time, he believed that mantra too. It was so obvious how much you two cared for each other, but Vax knew his heart was more in it for you.

Defying Death one too many times and being tied to the Matron due tend to put a damper on the intimacy he craved to cultivate with you, but Vax was nothing if not determined.

Small confessions, stolen glances and kisses, moments stolen alone with you. If it wasn’t all in, at least it was a chance to be with you in this lifetime.

Even when you clung to him with tears in both of your eyes, Vax never had regrets for a second. No moment was ever too late if it was you.

If he could be given the chance again to be part of your admiration and affection, he would ask for it all over again.

[wei-ying-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

For those of you who don’t know, I decided to run the gauntlet of @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus, which is comprised of 9 units. I have completed four of the units (here is my queer cinema syllabus round up post with all the films I’ve watched and written about so far). It is time for me to make my way through Unit 5- Lesbians, which includes the following films: The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love (1995), Bound (1996), Water Lilies (2007)[finally got my hands on this one but I still need to watch it], Saving Face (2004), D.E.B.S. (2004), Set It Off (1996), The Handmaiden (2016), Carol (2015), Imagine Me and You (2005), Two of Us (2019), Rafiki (2018), and The Color Purple (1985). 

Today I will be watching

Carol (2015) dir. Todd Haynes

Summary: Aspiring photographer Therese spots the beautiful, elegant Carol perusing the doll displays in a 1950s Manhattan department store. The two women develop a fast bond that becomes a love with complicated consequences.

Cast -Cate Blanchett as Carol Aird -Rooney Mara as Therese Belivet

__

Dear readers, 

I cannot for the life of me tell you what it was about this movie that made it so difficult for me to start it but alas I have finally gotten here, finally watched it, and finally typed up my thoughts. Hilariously, this viewing was perfectly timed for the holidays because it is mainly set at Christmas and even if it wasn’t the extremely strong red/green color scheme of Carol and between Carol and Therese would have gotten me there anyway. 

Sorry to those of you who may have absolutely loved this movie, but I found it…okay? I definitely didn’t hate it or anything but it’s definitely not going on my list of favorites. I did enjoy how much of the film relied on stolen glances between Carol and Therese to be like “lesbian?” “lesbian?!” because that kind of subtle quiet signalling in the shoulder touches and the intense eye contact is what you are often forced to do for the sake of safety.

The other thing I did find to be really interesting and important to the narrative is the way in which Carol’s soon-to-be ex-husband is holding Rindy over Carol’s head to try to get what he wants. I think Carol is in a really precarious situation here because while Therese is lower class, and lacks a general amount of power, Carol has a chance of losing any and all access to her daughter because she refuses to be controlled by Harge’s desires. 

And I appreciate the representation of the mental and physical toll that trying to go back in the closet and some version of conversion therapy takes on a person who is trying to pretend to be something they are not for the sake of maintaining a relationship with the people in their life that they care about. Generally speaking, I do not think it is unfair of Carol to leave Therese in order to maintain a relationship with Rindy. 

What is not fair, is leaving Therese in the middle of the night and having Abby take care of Therese after that. Especially after Therese has been illegally recorded having sex with Carol. Like I can see trying to put space between yourself and the person who you have indirectly harmed. But while I do believe that Carol has every right to break it off with Therese in an effort to maintain her parental custody of Rindy, and that Therese can be allowed to forgive Carol for that and re-establish a relationship with her later. I was honestly kind of mad at Therese for agreeing to try again with Carol after the way Carol left her. Because to me, that wasn’t fair to Therese for what she has lost pursuing her own feelings. Carol left her in the middle of the night, she went no contact, she maintained that boundary when Therese tried to check in on her, but the second that she has figured out a way out of her situation. When he’s allowed Harge to take custody of Rindy but with visitation rights, she thinks she can just go running back to the person she left hanging with the knowledge that she is a part of a fucking illegally recorded porn video that is just fucking floating around somewhere probably. 

I was really excited when at first Therese rebuked Carol’s proposal to start back over, and was disappointed when she walked that back soon after. Though, was I surprised? No. Getting back to what I mentioned earlier about the color-coding. Carol’s whole life was green. When Therese first goes to her home, Carol is wearing green, she has a “green present” for Rindy (the Christmas tree), the phone she uses is green, if I remember correctly, even her car is green. So when Therese returns home and paints her entire fucking apartment green what else was going to happen? Therese made her choice. And we reaffirm the ending when the other lesbian woman tries to approach her at the house party to no avail. 

Favorite Moment

Honestly, I think my favorite moment was Carol still affirming to Therese that she is interested in her and wants to be physically intimate, share a bed, etc even after the illegal porn recording. And I think I feel the same about Therese, still choosing to be intimate with Carol after the video. In some ways it feels like they are liberating themselves, and I like that they don’t run scared from intimacy or their lust/desire because someone is trying to hold it over their head.

Favorite Quote

“I love her”  “I can’t help you with that.” 

GET FUCKED HARGE. 

I do truly appreciate that Abby does not give a single fuck for Harge’s feelings. Because he is being kind of a massive dick. 

Score 

8/10

There was a lot a liked about this film. It had a strong visual message and knew what it was trying to say. I liked that the lesbians were still pretty unapologetic and that it did feel real, and I like that Therese didn’t run from her feelings for Carol and that Carol stood up for herself and her sexuality in the hearing. I do not want people to think that I am docking the film for simply struggling to hit play. There is a lot to like about this film. Also, Cate Blanchett being a lesbian is always a plus.

[irresponsibleink]

Born Again Put a Bullet in My Childhood

*Born Again Spoilers*

The return of the Man Without Fear not only broke my heart, it signifies the end of my childhood. The bullet fired by Benjamin Pointdexter went straight through its victim and into the last bit of nostalgia I held for my younger years. 

I was twelve years old in April of 2015. The concept of a streaming service was still new to me, and I expected the first Marvel/Netflix show to be reminiscent of a low-budget fan series. I was going through a lot at the time. My parents were getting divorced, my grandfather was sick with cancer, and my family was on the verge of being homeless. On April 10th, my father and I stayed at my grandad’s house. Grandad was at the hospital because his lung cancer had taken a turn for the worst, and I curled up on the worn couch as spring air filtered in from the open window and my Dad sat down with a grunt in the recliner. My Dad turned on the show and I was enthralled. 

I had never seen a superhero show that felt so adult, so real, so slick, and complicated and heavy. I related to Matt Murdock, someone who always seemed to have some sort of obstacle ahead of him. I related to Matt’s boyhood counterpart who was concerned about his father making the rent payments on time. I related to being small, consumed with the big mysterious world that can change at any moment with various levels of stability. I liked that Matt Murdock kept going, no matter how bad things got. 

Two days later, I was sitting in my bedroom late at night, watching the infamous episode “Nelson V. Murdock” on my Wii console, legs folded under me, chewing my nails as Charlie Cox and Elden Hensen cried on screen. I was still thinking about that episode the next morning as we drove to Grandad’s house. Later that day, the police called informing us that our house had been robbed. My TV and Wii console were both stolen along with all our other possessions. The drawers in my bedroom were pulled free and clothes were strewn about. Looking at my room, I felt naked. There were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle decals on my walls and I wondered if the thieves looked at them when they came into my room. I wonder if they felt bad about stealing from a child and I knew they probably didn’t. Two days after that, we were officially evicted. 

In 2018, I was an angry teenager. My mother was getting remarried and I didn’t like the guy. I didn’t like that we were moving or that I wouldn’t see my friends as much anymore, even though they didn’t feel like my friends at the time. Most of them treated me like shit because we were all young and unhappy about something. I was suicidal but I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling. I pretended to be happy all the time and that made it worse. The new season of Daredevil was the only good thing I had going on in my life. I coveted the episodes, watching one every other week, taking my time. When the series was canceled I was halfway through the season. I stopped watching it and I wouldn’t finish it until 2024. I didn’t want the story to be over. I didn’t want to say goodbye to Matt, Karen, and Foggy, my only real friends. 

Recently, I’ve been struggling with the concept of growing up. I’m twenty-two years old and I’m in a weird space where I’m not a kid but I also don’t feel like an adult. It feels like I stopped aging in 2020. I keep reminiscing, thinking to myself “Things used to be better,” even though I know that isn’t true. I’m in college, I’m in therapy, I’m on medication, and life is good. Yet, I can’t seem to move on from periods of my life that have passed. I find myself dreaming about my childhood home and places I lived in my teens. They’re always altered, mashed together like some fucked-up Winchester mystery house. 

For years I wanted Daredevil to return. The original series was the postmark of my adolescence. Matt, Foggy, and Karen did more for me during the worst parts of my life than most of my friends have. I wanted to see them again. It was so weird when I got my wish. Tuesday night, I assembled the best bar food I could find, spicy chicken wings, fries, mozzarella sticks, a big juicy burger, and three ice-cold bottles of Coors Light. I set my favorite Daredevil comics and Funko figurines around my television set and placed my fancy chair right in front of it. Seeing Matt, Foggy, and Karen together again was like a dream or a hallucination. And none of that compared to the shock of seeing Foggy gunned down in the street. Hand covering my mouth, food getting cold next to me, and my cousin crying on speakerphone, I watched one of my best friends bleed to death on screen. 

I’m a sensitive person and I tend to overthink. I like drawing connections, even if they don’t make complete sense sometimes. In the aftermath of the Born Again pilot episode, sitting on my chair and staring at the ceiling, I realized something: I can finally move on. In some odd, fucked up way, seeing my three favorite comfort characters together again, and seeing one of them die, has given me a sense of closure on my childhood. No TV show was meant to last forever. I’m glad the 2015 Daredevil series died a hero before it could become a villain, and I’m glad the new series is taking a different route.  Seeing a definitive end to the original series is permission for me to let go of my unhappy adolescent years and move on. I’m grateful for that, and I know that Born Again is going to make me cry more in the future. 

Tonight, I will drink to Nelson, Murdock, and Page and all they’ve done for a lonely kid.

Rick Stepp (irresponsibleink@gmail.com)

[tigereyes45]

20 questions with a Fanfic Author

I got tagged by 3 separate people on 3 different days. XD Thank you for the tags @illegalpaladin , @ncc1701ohno , & @kcscribbler ! 1.How many works on Ao3?

As of right now I have 420 fics posted on Ao3. There will be about 80 if I ever get around to moving the rest of my fics over from ff.net (but I've been saying that I'll do that for years. XD )

Fun fact the last fic I posted was on March 12th, so a day before I got tagged the first time.

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

1,150,568

Wow, I find it hard to believe that I've written that much since first joining in 2015.

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos

Meeting the Team - 426 Kudos - Star Wars

Plo Koon takes a youngling Ahsoka to meet the Wolfpack before they become the squad known by their fierce fighting techniques and unshakable leader. Back when they were first being organized into a lethal force for the Republic.

2. Greed or Fear - 348 kudos - Ducktales (2017)

Donald and Scrooge have a conversation about Louie's own fascination with money.

3. Leaving - 329 kudos - Klaus

Instead of Klaus walking off on his own, Jesper was there to see it. He wasn't about to passively let his best friend disappear, but what could he do anyways.

4. The Calm Before the Storm - 315 kudos - Merlin BBC

Morgana has taken over Camelot with the help of her sister and their undead army. Arthur, Merlin, and the others take shelter within an abandoned castle. There they lick their wounds, and make plans for the fight. Merlin decides now is the best time to reveal a hidden truth.

5. Escaping Death Yet Again - 269 kudos - Mass Effect Original Triology

Wrex was quick to search and recover Shepard. Now he works to keep her survival a secret as his people looked for the Normandy. There's just a few problems with that.

1. The alliance wants her and Hackett suspects she's alive. 2. The mass relays and most of the technology-based around them are no longer functioning. 3. Keeping her alive. Where's Vakarian when he needs him?

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Ao3 has 82 different fandoms listed on my written for list. If I'm not counting the catch all fandom titles (such as Star Trek, or Dragon Age - all media types) then I've written for 73 fandoms. Though I could have messed my numbers out somewhere along the way.

Right now I'm writing a lot for Star Trek (big surprise), Transformers (I adore Ratchet), and Dragon Age (Varric, oh my heart).

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! For the most part. Sometimes on a multi-chap fic I'll try to wait until I have the next chapter out before responding (kind of serves as a notification method when people aren't bookmarking the story).

6. Angstiest Ending?

Man this is so hard to answer. I write a lot of angst. A lot of character death, and unaddressed feelings. Well dear readers, which fic of mine do you think has the angstiest ending? (I have a feeling it'd be one of the star trek fics. Maybe not but it's a feeling.)

7. Fic with the happiest ending?

Happy ending, what's that? Haha, probably From A Distance's ending. It's a Mass Effect Andromeda (Sara) Ryder/Tiran Kandros fic about the two getting together, and guess what? They actually do! XD No sudden deaths, or unspoken confessions or anything. The two save the day, end up together, and are sappy enough that it truly comes across how the whole pathfinder team is family.

8. Do you get hate?

Yeah. Not as much nowadays but back when I wrote Game of Thrones and Star Wars often, I got a lot. Usually people criticizing me for not editing more, or for posting about a specific ship here and there.

9. Do you write smut?

Once again this timing is funny to me because I only began writing smut a year ago (and only for Star Trek). I actually posted my first smut fic on March 20th, 2024. It was a TOS Mckirk fic that was an AU about if Kirk and co ended up stuck on the Return of the Archons planet. You can read it here:

As Archons

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! Not often but I do.

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

Uhhhh, hmm. Not as far as I'm aware. One time I found one of my fics posted on a russian website. They had translated and reposted it but with a link to my original fic, so it didn't bother me. I don't think my stuff has ever been outright stolen.

I prefer if people ask first, of course, but so long as my work is linked and credited I don't really mind if people translate it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Actually yes! Multiple times! There was the one fic that was translated into Russian, and another when it was translated into Chinese. The russian fic was one of my Game of Thrones fics (if I'm remembering correctly), and the Chinese fic was the first Optiratch transformers fics I ever posted.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic?

Yes. Though I don't think either of them has ever been published.

14. All time favorite ship?

How could you ask me this? Don't you know this is the hardest question to answer?

Mcspirk, and Varric x Hawke, and Optiratch, and Janeway x Tuvok x T'pel, and Mariner x T'Lyn, and Cassandra x Jenkins, and so many many more. I have a different all time favorite ship for every different series, movie, and book I interact with.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have hope that I'll eventually finish all my WIPs.

16. Writing strengths?

Oh I don't know. I like to think that I'm good at invoking emotions within my fics. At the very least I hope I am.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

I am so bad at switching tenses out of nowhere. I think in all tense forms all the time in my head (and it makes sense to me) so I don't even notice when I do it in fics.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

I think when it's done consistently in a way readers can pick up on, then it's great characterization! I don't mind using a translator to know what's being said. However I'll never complain if the author wants to include what the word or dialogue is in the notes.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oban Star Racers. I wrote 3 fics for this series on ff.net before writing a tmnt 2012 fic.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

A Scarcity of Comfort is by all measurements my favorite fic that I've ever written. I am still so proud of this fic to this day.

I wrote it after watching Star Trek V - The Final Frontier because I was so upset that it was Sybok who hugged McCoy after the scene about his father. It should have been Jim & Spock.

It's not my most viewed fic, and no where close to being my most commented on, or bookmarked fic, it doesn't even have as many kudos as some of my other star trek fics, but I am so damn proud of it. Probably the best thing I've ever written.

----

I'll tag @nalascat , @fernisworm , @greeneyedwildthing , @yellowmagicalgirl , @jenksel , and @aerialworms in case any of yal wanna do it. :)

[4getfulimaginator2022]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I haven't been tagged, but I saw @fandomsbyladymelodrama do one of these a few months back - so of course, I wanted to give it a try. 🙃 Also, I haven't done any personal posts on here in forever. Time for a change!

How many works do you have on AO3? I have 18 works so far. And when it comes to ships, it looks like I have a "type." 😉

What's your total AO3 word count? Oh boy. 660K+ right now and growing all the time because when stories speak, I write.

What fandoms do you write for? Mainly Once Upon a Time (starting in 2013), followed by Game of Thrones (2024, baby!) and then that 1 Greek myth collection thingy. I was a die-hard Once fan back in the day and watched episodes religiously, so all the canon lore was seared into my brain until season 6 (when I dropped the show because the writing was so off the rails). Surprise, surprise - I haven't watched GoT in its entirety. Everything I know is through my own research, watching videos, reading, reading, reading, and the contributions of the wonderful Jorleesi fandom.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? All Captain Swan fics, in order from the most to the least: 1) Heart Bound 2) Only the Beginning 3) A Cobbler's Life For Me 4) Be My Angel, Be My Demon 5) Nevermore

Do you respond to comments? I try! I used to be less strict about replying to comments, but with my resurgence in fanfic after years of absence, I have replied to each and every one. Currently, I am behind on replies, but I will get around to it again. Soon.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oof. I don't do angsty endings because I will die on the hill that is Jane Austen: “My characters shall have, after a little trouble, all that they desire.” Probably my angstiest ending is in Trader of Hearts, which is a really dark fic. I do have a one-shot that is semi-angsty, though: Thinking of You.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? *deer in headlights look* I make it my business to give my beloved characters the happiest endings I can. Seriously. I don't know how to rank endings against each other, since the characters always end up together. I currently think my happiest ending is for The Old Curiosity Shop, my Jorleesi fic.

Do you get hate on fics? I have, but these were readers telling me how I should write my stories "the right way." I also have gotten spam comments. Overall, people are pretty nice.

Do you write smut? Hoo-hah! 😏 Let's count: I have 3 fics rated Mature and 5 fics rated Explicit. That's half of my fic repertoire. And when I do Explicit, it's ❤️‍🔥. Enough said.

Do you write crossovers? No. Not happening, cannot do, end of discussion.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Well... There was a scandal back on FF.net in 2014 or 2015? Websites were copying all fanfics to scammy websites or selling fanfics as ebooks. Not cool. I used to have all my content on FF.net, but now only my in-progress fics are there. All my fics are up on AO3.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, not that I know of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Hey, if someone is offering... But again, no. No one ever wanted to co-write with me. 🥺 But maybe it's because I'm sooooooooo bossy!

What's your all-time favorite ship? Oh crap. All-time favorite?! WHAT. I have to cheat here and say there's a tie: Captain Swan and Jorleesi. Emma Swan and Killian Jones had a long journey to love and happiness, both in terms of their individual character growth and their relationship as a couple. The more I learned about them, the harder I fell in love with them. It helped that the CS fandom was HUGE as the ship became canon, and Tumblr was so active then that #captainswan was all over the place. We were one of the largest canon ships for that show. Now, as for Jorleesi... Jorah Mormont's loyalty and devotion earned my attention and respect from the first, and then when I found out about his love for Daenerys and her repressed love affection for him, I was a goner. My 2 OTPs: both women are BAMFs who are survivors and warriors, while their guys value love above all and are willing to die to protect them (*sobbing for Jorah because noooooooo* 😭)

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Heart Bound. This fic... I love this fic. This is my Jane Eyre/Jane Austen fix. It's my 2nd period piece and I adore some of my prose in this one. It. Needs. 4. Chapters. To. Be. Complete. Can I do it? Yes. Do I want to do it? *cries* Of course I do but it's hard...

What are your writing strengths? Hmm. Some would say it's my prose, while others would say that I know how to channel emotion into my writing. I like to incorporate literature and historical references into my fics (historical AUs or not), so I think I've done well with that. I've also been told that my characterizations are fantastic and unique. You do notice that I'm not claiming credit for any of these observations, right? Usually, I believe my writing is awful and I could have done so much better. I have a hard time acknowledging my strengths. You could hand me an Olympic gold medal for Writing and I would still insist that it's all lies. My self-belief and confidence have not improved over the years.

What are your writing weaknesses? Dialogue. It's always dialogue. I want it to be realistic but my vocab gets in the way and it starts sounding like prose. Not good. But I am getting better! No way to go but up.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Maybe I'd do it, but it would have to be necessary for me to put in the effort. I don't purposely bamboozle my readers. 🤣

First fandom you wrote for? Once Upon a Time (of course *rolls eyes*). One Against the Wind is my ultimate period fic - pirates, the Caribbean, my tribute to PotC and pirate novels I've read. I created character backstory when there was no canon backstory. It's also my longest fic at 147K words. So proud of it and it still holds a special place in my heart. 😍

Favorite fic you've written? Ugh, no no no! I always, always say I cannot have one favorite because that is BORING. But okay, I will say that at the moment, it's The Old Curiosity Shop. I just did a full read of the entire fic and my heart absolutely melted. Adorable, heartbreaking, angsty, and so romantic. Jorleesi, I love you and I will die for you. You own my heart a thousand times over. ❤️

Fineeeee, I'll tag 5 people (no worries if you don't want to do this - completely voluntary fun and games here 💕): @ser-jorah-the-andal, @rileypotter17, @houseofthebear, @clarasimone, @thank-god-and-you

[synonomy]

Fanfic Author Interview

Aw damn I got tagged in something! Thank you to the lovely @imsiriuslyreading <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

27.

What's your total AO3 word count?

347,553

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Ignoring the non-Marauders stuff, my number one is For My Impertinence, a Wolfstar A/B/O Regency AU. 91k words - 2,355 kudos.

And my second to fifth are just all the fics in my Truly Two series lol. Also a Wolfstar A/B/O AU, wherein Sirius never went to Azkaban and is raising Harry with Remus. 45k words - 3,457 kudos altogether.

Do you respond to comments?

Always! Though sometimes it takes me a while. Years in some cases lol

The only time I won't is if you're one of those lovely people who comment on every single chapter (when the whole fic is complete). Then I'll usually just respond to the first and last.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I wrote unrequited love once. For my OTP at the time. Don't know what possessed me.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Nowadays they're all pretty sappy. At 32 I'm just about out of my emo teen phase, finally.

Do you write crossovers?

Nope. Generally find them cringe.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really. One anonymous comment back in like 2015. Then on FMI I had someone aggressively complaining about the background Jegulus because I hadn't explicitly tagged it (which is fair enough tbh), but they were complimentary otherwise. I don't think they're gonna like what I have in mind for the sequel heh

Do you write smut?

Oh yeah. Honestly the rest of the story is just foreplay.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Somebody told me (that you had a boyfriend) that one of my fics was on Wattpad (lol) once, but I couldn't see it myself without an account. Pissed me off though; I rallied the troops to harass them and apparently the person took it down. Again this was like 2013 lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

People used to ask me all the time if they could, but very rarely would I receive the requested link to a finished work. Although, to be fair, I sometimes wouldn't reply until like four years later, so... who knows? I think there's a couple linked to my stuff on AO3; if there's any others, they are posted elsewhere.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. I imagine I'd fall in love with the person I could do that with happily (I'm generally a control freak with my work)

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I can't say 'all-time' 'cause the times are always a-changin', know what I mean? Currently it's Wolfstar, but I have been equally obsessive about many other doomed gays.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I always think I'm never gonna finish anything. It's only when I'm literally in the last paragraph that I think maybe I'll have a chance this time lol. FMI was a huge fluke I think. Previously I always avoided doing chaptered fics because I was so certain I'd never finish them.

What are your writing strengths?

Uhhhhhh I guess I can do dialogue okay?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I overexplain. The 'show, don't tell' rule committed suicide because of me. Too many adverbs, too many commas, too much in general. I try reeeeally hard to be more subtle and succinct, but it's a constant process of reining myself in.

A fic is also never truly done with me. I'm still tweaking and formatting shit I posted like a decade ago.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I wouldn't do it unless I was confident in my ability to speak that language in that particular context in real life.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Jegulus as the focus (but I'll be trying my hand at that real soon, hoho!) Otherwise, Hannigram.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

Oh man there's this stupid little 4k smutty thing I wrote for bandom waaaay back in the day. And I like it mostly because I think I did really well at not being overexplain-y heh

This was really fun! Thanks again for thinking of me! I'll tag: @euripidestrousers, @theresthesnitch, @matildadaism ... I would do more but I don't know who writes and who doesn't lol BASICALLY if you want to do this consider yourself tagged!!!

[post-mortem-lullabies-a]

NAME: Lizard. Some shorten it to Liz and I'm on board with that but while I'm yet to stumble upon someone else using a nickname 'Lizard', I have seen 'Liz' before.

PRONOUNS: You have not reached the friendship lever required to unlock that info :p Seriously though, this is something I and Emil have in common, we use 'she/her' personally, but couldn't care less what others use for us, especially on the internet out of all places. You don't even know my real name! (except those who did PayPal with me because PayPal is a snitch >.>)

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S): Emil. She has been since her creation more than a decade ago and I foresee she will continue her iron grip on me for years to come. I might fixate over other muses - like Paper recently - but it usually goes away after a couple of days and they need to compete against her again till another spell of fixation comes around.

RP PET PEEVES: Overuse of epithets, and the time travels to reply to something that should have passed, but those are old and tired and while it's not a pet peeve I want to highlight something odd I noticed recently that got me worried: WHY ARE PEOPLE ASKING ME IF THEY CAN SEND ME IM'S OR ASKS? Has something happened in those 2 years I wasn't RPing on tumblr? What happened to the gleeful attitude of sending people you barely interacted with random stuff at 3am? YES you can send me stuff and it breaks my little cold heart that you feel the need to ask me in the first place! What tragedy has occurred that people now feel the need to ask??? Are we going to start asking if we can follow someone next?

So anyway, have a snack 🍪☕

EXPERIENCE/HOW MANY YEARS: I joined tumblr with Emil's blog on 14th of February 2014 and you can bet the only reason I remember the exact date is because it was a Valentine's Day in a Very Valentine's Day looking year. If it had been 2015 or 2013, I wouldn't be sure what year it was. I was pretty consistent for most of that time but then took about 2 years long break and came back this last December... And probably the only reason I'll remember the year will be because it was 2024, so exactly 10 years after joining.

FLUFF, ANGST, or SMUT: Action xD I have and will write all three of those but if you really want to grasp my attention with a thread, give me action. Let's make our muses have some specific goal in mind they are working together towards. Fluff and Angst are fun to write but only if our muses are close enough for it to actually matter and affect both of them. Not much point in me writing Emil's void state if your muse is not gonna care, is there? And I have a love-hate relationship with my smut writing: no matter what I write, it feels plastic and fake to me, but I want to get better at it and I won't get better if I don't write it. So yeah, Emil does one-night stands and I'm fine with writing them but... yeah, don't expect it to be good >.>

LONG/SHORT REPLIES: I can do anything, from one liners to novellas (I have written replies that were over 1K words). I usually mirror the length the partner gave me, but if they mirror me too, we probably will end up with multi paragraph length; something like 3-6 paragraphs.

BEST WAY TO INTERACT: Burst in like Kool-Aid and throw asks and IMs at me. Off with the 'but what if I annoy them?' BS. I post a lot of memes for you all to use and abuse. I post starter calls too - like them. There's a bunch of open starters that await replies and reblogs (but don't just leave a like on those; what am I to do with a like???)

BEST TIME TO WRITE: I like mornings the best but oh, guess what, 5/7 mornings are taken by my work xD I'm lucky enough to work a remote office job so I can sneak in a small reblog here and there, but yeah, can't really do much writing then >.> So I tend to write in afternoons; after I worked, ate and watched a video, or two.

Tagged by Stolen from: @riddlesnap

Tagging: You :p

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

David Horsey

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

June 11, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUN 12, 2024

“We’re producing more energy than ever before in this nation. We have the strongest economy in the world, and we are beating China for the first time in decades. More people went to work this morning in America than at any other time in our nation’s history. So I’ve got a message to Donald Trump and all his negativity and his whining: Stop sh*t talking America. This is the greatest country on earth, and it’s time that we all start acting like it.”

Pennsylvania governor Josh Shapiro’s words to Jen Psaki on MSNBC yesterday illustrated that Democrats are flipping the script on the MAGA Republicans. 

Since he decided to run for president in 2015, almost exactly nine years ago, Trump’s narrative has been that the United States is in terrible decline and that only he can “make America great again.” In his speech announcing his candidacy on that June day in 2015, he claimed that “our country is in serious trouble” and complained that China, Japan, and Mexico were all “beating” the U.S. and “laughing at us, at our stupidity…. The U.S. has become a dumping ground for everybody else’s problems,” he said before launching into the idea that Mexico was sending criminals and rapists across the border. “Our enemies are getting stronger and stronger…, and we as a country are getting weaker,” he said. “Even our nuclear arsenal doesn’t work.”

Trump claimed—falsely—that the nation’s gross domestic product was below zero, that the labor participation rate was “the worst since 1978,” that unemployment was between 18 and 20 percent, and that while Obamacare was “amazingly destructive,” he would replace it with something cheaper and better. 

Trump continued this theme of decline and what he called “American carnage” in his inaugural address. He described “[m]others and children trapped in poverty in our inner cities; rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape of our Nation; an education system, flush with cash, but which leaves our young and beautiful students deprived of all knowledge; and the crime and the gangs and the drugs that have stolen too many lives and robbed our country of so much unrealized potential.”

Trump initially seemed to blame inept politicians and bureaucrats for what he claimed was America’s decline, assuring the audience at his 2015 campaign announcement: “Well, you need somebody, because politicians are all talk, no action. Nothing’s gonna get done. They will not bring us—believe me—to the promised land. They will not.” But when then–FBI director James Comey refused to drop the investigation into the relationship between Russian operatives and the 2016 Trump campaign, Trump and his loyalists began to warn of a secretive “deep state” that was working to undermine Trump and, with him, the nation. 

Trump’s narrative that he is the true defender of the United States, under attack by dark forces, maps beautifully over white evangelical narratives of religious decline. Trump continued that storyline even after voters turned him out of the White House, insisting that a nefarious conspiracy of Democrats, undocumented immigrants, and foreigners stole the election from him. 

The House Select Committee to Investigate the January 6th Attack on the U.S. Capitol estimated that Trump raised $250 million in donations from supporters for an “election defense fund” to pay the legal fees to overturn the results of the 2020 election. But the Trump team never actually set up that fund. Instead, the money went to the Save America political action committee founded and controlled by Trump, and from there the money went to Trump loyalists and pro-Trump organizations.

And therein lies a key reason for Trump’s story of an apocalyptic America: describing the nation as a hellhole that only he can fix also maps over a common pattern of American grifters. So long as supporters send him money, he claims, they will be able to defend the country against dark forces: communists, Marxists, atheists, immigrants, pedophiles, feminists—just what the dark forces are matters far less than that they are a foil for the grifter. 

When Trump made that argument in 2015, it was not all that far-fetched. Economists estimate that the supply-side economics of the past 40 years had shifted $50 trillion dollars from the bottom 90% of Americans to the top 1%, hollowing out the middle class. Schools had been chronically underfunded, and the opioid epidemic, which began in 1999, was claiming more than 10,000 Americans a year (a number that has continued to rise ever since). And by weaponizing the filibuster and gerrymandering states, Republicans had made it extraordinarily difficult for Congress to accomplish anything that would address these issues.

When Biden took office, he was in the unusual position of signing executive orders to establish policies that were not unpopular, like Trump‘s, but that were extraordinarily popular. This began the process of showing that the government could, in fact, represent the people. 

Then, thanks to the election of Georgia senators Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff in a runoff election on January 6, 2021—that was the seismic shift of January 6, 2021, that is often forgotten—the Democrats continued to demonstrate that the government could work for the people. They passed the American Rescue Plan to shore up the U.S. economy after the pandemic shutdowns, the Bipartisan Infrastructure Act to rebuild roads and bridges and improve broadband access, the CHIPS and Science Act to promote semiconductor manufacturing, the Inflation Reduction Act to invest in climate change mitigation and permit the government to negotiate with pharmaceutical companies over drug prices, and the Bipartisan Safer Communities Act to close loopholes in gun purchases.  

Those changes have created a roaring economy with an unemployment rate that has just last month ticked up to 4% after 27 months below that number, with wages growing faster than the inflation that plagued the U.S.—and the world—after the pandemic eased. The highest wage growth has gone to the lowest earners, helping to cut the nation’s extreme wealth inequality.

That booming economy might be partly what’s behind another significant change: for all that Trump and MAGA Republicans still talk about Democratic cities as hellholes, the FBI yesterday released a report showing that violent crime in fact dropped by more than 15% in the U.S. during the first three months of 2024.  As Jim Sciutto of CNN pointed out today, “Murders fell 26.4% and rapes decreased by 25.7%. Aggravated assaults decreased by 12.5%, according to the data, robberies fell 17.8%.” In his own assessment, Biden attributed those dropping numbers to “putting more cops on the beat, holding violent criminals accountable, and getting illegal guns off the street.” 

On June 1, top sports talk host Colin Cowherd anticipated Shapiro’s pro-American stance when he pushed back on the Republican idea that the country is a dystopian nightmare. “[Trump’s] trying to sell me an America that doesn’t exist,” he said. “Stop trying to sell me on ‘everything’s rigged, the country’s falling into the sea, the economy’s terrible,’” he continued. “The America that I live in is imperfect. But compared to the rest of the world, I think we’re doing okay.”

Today, Biden pointedly illustrated one more difference between Trump and the real world. In the wake of his own conviction on 34 criminal counts, Trump has amped up his insistence that the Department of Justice is rigged against him and must be purged of nonpartisan civil servants and repopulated with his own loyalists. Biden today underscored his own respect for the rule of law. 

This afternoon a jury found Biden’s 54-year-old son Hunter Biden guilty on three charges of lying on a form required to purchase a gun in 2018 when he checked the “no” box that asked if he was “an unlawful user of, or addicted to,” drugs. That lie permitted him to buy the gun that he owned for 11 days. His lawyer argued that he did not consider himself an addict because he was trying at the time to end his drug dependence. 

The news made the Trump team rush back to their narrative. “This trial has been nothing more than a distraction from the real crimes of the Biden Crime Family, which has raked in tens of millions of dollars from China, Russia and Ukraine,” Trump campaign spokesperson Karoline Leavitt said. Echoing the false allegations MAGA Republicans have made about President Biden, she added: “Crooked Joe Biden’s reign over the Biden Family Criminal Empire is all coming to an end on November 5th, and never again will a Biden sell government access for personal profit.”

But there is no Biden family business, and Hunter Biden is not in the administration. President Biden has kept his distance from the case. Today he said, “I am the president, but I am also a dad. Jill and I love our son, and we are so proud of the man he is today. So many families who have had loved ones battle addiction understand the feeling of pride seeing someone you love come out the other side and be so strong and resilient in recovery. As I…said last week, I will accept the outcome of this case and will continue to respect the judicial process as Hunter considers an appeal. Jill and I will always be there for Hunter and the rest of our family with our love and support. Nothing will ever change that.”

—

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON