#and then they are almost always GOOD so I can never delete them or refuse 😩😩

[rinhaler]

Okay so I’m working through requests today, I’m really flooded with them so I’m thinking about closing my ask box for a little bit while I catch up

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Series masterlist

Sunday morning, the sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the busy city center. Noah walked beside you, a relaxed smile spreading across his face as he held Luna's hand while she looked around her at the vibrant streets filled with laughter and the aroma of street food, with curiosity.

The little girl had never liked strollers and had always refused to use one. She mostly wanted to walk or be held in her father's arms.

"Yes! I saw it! It was hiding behind the trees but I saw it!" She said.

"The unicorn was hiding behind the trees?"

"Yes! It was white and big and pretty but it was hiding. But I saw it anyway!"

"That's great! I'm happy you saw it!" You laughed.

As you walked along, you paused to admire a shop window displaying colorful toys. Luna squirmed excitedly. “Look, Daddy! Bunnies!” she exclaimed, pointing at a big, fluffy bunny in the window.

"Yeah, that one is really pretty." He agreed.

Just then, a group of people, obviously fans, caught sight of Noah.

They talked for a moment between them, poiting at him, and soon whispers turned into excited shouts, and within moments, several people had approached, their phones out.

“Noah! Can we get a picture?” one voice called, followed by others echoing the request.

Noah's demeanor shifted almost instantly. The polite smile faded, replaced by a look of concern as he straightened up. “I’m sorry guys, not when I’m with my daughter.” His voice was steady, but the tension was palpable as he shifted his focus back to Luna, who looked at him with confusion.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice trembling just a little as he easily picked her up.

Noah lowered his tone, trying to reassure her, but his eyes darted nervously to the little crowd formed around you. It wasn't even exactly a crowd, maybe a dozen people at most, but that was enough for Noah to worry.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just some people who like dad's music.” But the enthusiasm from the fans was relentless.

“Please! Just one quick shot.” someone insisted, pushing closer. Noah’s face tightened, protective instincts flaring as panic flickered in his gaze.

His hand caressed the little girl's back, holding her close as if someone might suddenly jump in and snatch her from his arms.

You knew that if it had been any other time he would have gladly stopped for a few pictures, and if it had been any other time where he simply didn't feel like interacting with them, he would have explained how he felt and walked away. But he was with his daughter and this time it was different.

You knew how Noah had always wanted to protect her from the internet and fans, how he had never posted a photo of her on any social media before deleting them all, how he didn't want his daughter to end up in the spotlight. And he didn't want her to end up in any picture of video taken of them and posted online.

"Just a picture. Please!"

God, some people are really out of their minds. Is it really so easy to forget that people, even if public figures, have a life outside of their work and a minimum amount of privacy you have to respect?

“Come here, sweetie,” you said, stepping forward and gently taking Luna from Noah's arms.

He didn't hesitate for a second, letting you take her without putting up any kind of minimal resistance, showing that he trusted you completely.

As you cradled her close, you could feel her small heart racing against you, instinctively hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

Good. No pictures or videos of her face.

“Let’s go look at some toys,” you whispered softly, wanting to shield her from the chaos. Luna clung to you, comforted by your presence, her earlier excitement replaced by uncertainty.

“Okay.” she replied anyway, her trust in you evident. You turned to Noah, who stood frozen, a mix of gratitude and worry etched across his features.

“It's okay. I've got her.” you assured him.

Noah nodded, relief flooding his expression as he let you take her away. You hurried into the nearby toy store, leaving Noah with the fans, Luna giggling as you entered the vibrant space filled with colorful displays and soft music. You felt the atmosphere shift as the door closed behind you, the chaos outside fading away.

Once inside, Luna obviously wanted to explore and you put her down, kneeling to her level. “Look at all the bunnies!” you exclaimed, gesturing to a display filled with plush toys. Her eyes sparkled as she darted toward the shelf, her earlier apprehension forgotten.

“Can I get one, please?” she asked, her voice filled with excitement as she clutched a particularly fluffy bunny.

“Of course! That one’s perfect,” you replied, smiling at her. She hugged it tightly, Mr. Flop still in a hand.

Moments later, you glanced back toward the door, where Noah had just entered, his expression softening the moment he saw you and Luna together. He took a deep breath, and you could see the tension in his shoulders start to ease.

"You alright?" You asked.

“Yes. Thank you, for what you did,” he said quietly, approaching you both. His voice was sincere, a mix of relief and gratitude. “I was starting to panic. I hate that feeling of being unable to protect her, especially when I know how intrusive some fans can be.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of his concerns. “It’s important to keep her safe,” you said softly. “I wanted to make sure she was okay. You shouldn’t have to worry about that while you’re out with her.”

Noah smiled, his eyes reflecting appreciation as he knelt beside Luna. “That means a lot. The way you immediately stepped in, worrying about her. It means a lot to me.”

Luna, oblivious to the deeper conversation, held up her new bunny. “Look, Daddy! It’s so fluffy!”

“That’s the best bunny I’ve ever seen,” Noah said, his smile returning, the earlier panic dissolving into laughter.

"Yeah but... but I don't want Mr. Flop to feel sad because I have another bunny. I think I'll leave this one here."

As you all explored the toy store together, Noah took your hand, his grip warm and gentle as he interviewed his tattooed fingers with yours. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a soft smile.

You let your thumb run over his fingers for a moment as Luna dashed ahead, her laughter ringing through the aisles as she discovered new toys.

That afternoon, you lounged comfortably on the couch at Noah’s house, your head gently resting on his shoulder, the light streaming through the windows and casting a warm glow across the living room. The atmosphere was relaxed, filled with the soft sound of crayons scratching against paper as Luna sat on the floor, completely engrossed in her drawings.

Suddenly, she looked up. “Daddy! Can we do a spa day? Like we did last time?”

Noah raised an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Right now?”

“Yeah! Please!” Luna insisted, bouncing on her knees.

“Okay, let’s do it.” Noah chuckled, clearly amused by the idea. Luna squealed with delight and dashed off to gather supplies. You exchanged an amused glance with Noah, who shook his head with a smile.

“What exactly does a spa day involve?” you asked, genuinely curious.

"I guess you are gonna find out soon."

Luna returned, triumphantly raising two tiny bottles of bright pink nail polish in her hands. “These!"

Noah let out a mock sigh but couldn’t hide his grin. “What can I do? It makes her happy.”

Luna turned her attention to you. “Will you help me, please?”

“Of course!” You moved closer to Noah, who extended his hands with a mix of amusement and reluctance, one to you and one to Luna.

As you took the nail polish, you carefully began applying it to Noah’s nails, trying not to burst out laughing. The warmth of his skin felt nice beneath your fingertips.

Luna watched intently, her face serious with concentration. “Make it pretty!” she said while working on the other hand.

You laughed softly as you painted his nails, the bright pink contrasting sharply with all the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. “You know, this really matches all your tattoos, you should definitely wear it more often,” you teased, unable to suppress a grin.

“Yeah?” he replied, glancing down at his hand. “Pretty stylish, huh?”

“Definitely!” you said, finishing up the second nail.

Luna couldn’t contain her excitement. “Your nails look so nice daddy!”

Noah chuckled, shaking his head again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Luna leaned in closer, carefully holding Noah's to paint the next nail. You watched her concentrate, the way her little tongue poked out in concentration making you smile.

“Just wait until you have to explain this to the guys.”

“Joke's on you. Last time they told me I looked very pretty.” he laughed, the sound warm and genuine.

Luna looked up at her dad, her eyes shining with pride. “You are pretty, dad!” she exclaimed, her innocent honesty making both of you burst into laughter.

“Yeah, he is,” you chimed in, smiling at Noah, who looked slightly bashful under the compliment as a light shade of pink suddenly appeared on his cheeks.

“Alright,” he said, finally breaking into a full smile. “This is the best spa day ever.”

As Luna finished up the last nail, she stepped back to admire her work. “You look amazing!”

“Thanks to my talented nail artist and her not-so-bad assistant,” he replied, looking at both of you with genuine affection.

You watched as Luna returned to her drawings, sprawled out on the floor with her crayons, the colors filled the page as she drew what seemed like a little house.

Noah leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, before closing his eyes for a moment.

"You okay?"

“Yeah, its just... this morning really got to me,” he said quietly, opening his eyes and turning to you. “I hate how some people seems to think they have the right to invade our private lives.  Especially when it comes to Luna.”

You nodded, understanding what he was trying to explain.

“I want her to have a normal childhood," he continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "I don’t want her to grow up in front of a camera or have to deal with people dissecting her life just because I’m in the spotlight sometimes. I mean, look at what happened this morning. It’s like people forget that we’re just trying to live our lives. I'm not even famous enough for that.”

He paused, his gaze drifting back to Luna, who was completely absorbed in her art. “She deserves to be just a kid, to explore and create without anyone watching. I think about the fact that people can post pictures online—pictures of us together, and it drives me crazy knowing that anyone can comment on them, say whatever they want. It’s not just about me anymore; it’s about her, too. I don’t want to see her face plastered online for people to judge.”

You kept nodding, without interrupting him.

“What bothers me the most is how little respect there is for privacy. I don’t want her growing up with that kind of exposure. I want to control what parts of our lives get shared and what stays private. I want to be the one to decide when she’s ready for the world to see her, not some random person with a phone. And these are the same fucking people that go online saying that I can't be a good father because of my lifestyle and based on the few things they know about me. Or think to know.”

He took a deep breath, “And it’s not just about her now. I want to protect you too. Some people can be so cruel, and I don’t want you to be a target for their opinions. You’re part of our life now, and I want to make sure you’re safe."

He took a deep breath.

“Let it all out?” you asked gently after a moment of silence.

He chuckled softly, a hint of relief in his tone. “Kind of. It just builds up, you know?”

“Thank you for worrying about me, but I can handle it,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “You’re a good father, Noah. Don’t forget that. You’re doing everything you can to raise her well, and it shows. Luna is happy, and that’s what matters most.”

His expression softened. “I just want to protect her and give her a life where she can be herself, without all that noise. I want to make sure she grows up knowing she’s loved.”

“You’re already doing that,” you reassured him. “You’re present, you listen, and you create these moments for her. That’s what makes you a great dad.”

Noah smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he looked back at Luna, still lost in her drawings. “Thanks. I guess sometimes I just need a reminder.”

“Come here,” you said, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a gentle hug. As you held him close, you pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I love you." He whispered reasting his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you.

"I love you too."

In that moment, Luna looked up from her drawing. “Daddy! Look at my drawing!” She held it up proudly, revealing a house, some birds and trees.

“That’s so good!” Noah exclaimed, his earlier tension melting away as he talked to her. "We will add that to the others on the fridge."

She giggled, basking in his praise.

As Luna returned to her art, you and Noah exchanged a knowing glance.

"Everything's gonna be okay. It already is."

He just gave you a little smile.

Some hours later, you stepped out of Noah’s house, walking across the yard. You gave Noah one last kiss and waved at Luna as she clung to his leg on the porch. The soft hum of their voices faded behind you as you made your way to the car parked just outside his gate.

Just as you reached the driver’s side door and your hand was about to grip the handle, a voice called out, soft but firm, from across the street.

“Are you Noah’s girlfriend?”

You turned toward the sound of the voice, spotting an elderly woman standing in the garden of a modest house next door to Noah’s. She had delicate features—her skin a soft, pale olive tone, and her dark eyes were almond-shaped, sharp, and full of warmth. A few strands of silver hair escaped from the bun at the back of her head, and her cane, dark wood with a polished sheen, tapped lightly on the ground as she took a step forward. She wore a simple but cheerful floral dress, obviously faded with time, like she wore it often, but still vibrant.

"Yeah, I am," you replied with a polite smile, pausing for a moment.

The woman’s face brightened, and she took a few careful steps toward the sidewalk, her cane tapping gently against the pavement. Her voice was soft but full of affection. “Oh, I’m glad to finally see you. I don’t get out much anymore, but I’ve heard good things about you.” She paused, her gaze softening with a look of quiet pride. “Noah is such a good man. He deserves someone like you.”

You smiled warmly at her as she reached out a hand.

“I’m Mrs. Lin,” she introduced herself, her grip firm despite her age. You shook her hand.

“I’m his neighbor," Mrs. Lin continued, her voice gentle but steady. "Noah’s helped me a few times with things around the house—things I can’t quite manage anymore.” Her eyes glistened with affection as she looked toward Noah’s house. “He’s always been such a good boy. Always so kind to me. His friends too.”

You nodded, "Oh, I know."

There was a pause, and Mrs. Lin’s expression softened as she glanced back toward her own home. “Last time I saw little Luna, she was only two years old. I doubt she even remembers me. I’d love to see her again, if that’s possible.”

“Maybe one day we can stop by to say hi, I can ask Noah. I'm sure Luna would love to meet you again.”

Mrs. Lin’s face lit up at your words. “Oh, that would make my day! I’d really like that.”

“We’ll make it happen, then.”

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Lin said, her smile still wide. “Take care, and tell Noah I said thank you again for all his help.”

“I will,” you said with a nod, turning toward your car, looking at the lady disappearing behind the door of her house.

"Is this okay?" Noah asked, adjusting a vase of daisies on the counter, a proud smile on his face as he stepped back to admire the setup.

The next morning you were at the café again. A small sign reading “The Breakfast Nook turns three today” hung on the door.

You and Noah had spent the last hour decorating it with soft fairy lights draped from the ceiling, while fresh flowers in delicate mason jars were scattered across the tables. The scent of fresh-baked cookies wafted through the ai, free samples to entice customers and bring a little joy to their morning.

"It’s perfect," you replied, grinning as you took in the sight of the shop. The little details—a few candles flickering softly, the cheerful splash of flowers, and the freshly printed sign promising free cookies—had turned the space into something special. "I think we’re ready."

He flashed you a quick smile before leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. "You did an amazing job," he said quietly, his voice soft but sincere.

Before you could thank him, the bell above the door chimed, and in walked your coworker Grace, her posture as rigid as ever. You knew she’d be a little skeptical about your morning plan, and you braced yourself for her usual comments.

"Well, well, well, look who’s gone all Pinterest on us," Grace remarked "You sure you’re not planning on opening a flower shop instead? ‘Cause I don’t see much ‘coffee’ going on here." She raised an eyebrow, a smug smile creeping onto her face.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, Noah leaned against the counter, cool and collected as usual but with a little smirk on his lips. "Good morning to you too, Grace."

Grace shot him a side-eye but said nothing, her lips quirking into a smirk as well. She wasn’t exactly fond of Noah, and it wasn’t a secret. Ever since you’d started spending more time with him, Grace had made it clear that she wasn’t a fan of your "rockstar boyfriend". But Noah didn’t seem to mind; if anything, he seemed to enjoy the playful back-and-forth.

"You two are like a walking rom-com," she said with a dramatic sigh, throwing her apron over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Grace," you said.

Just as you finished saying that, a young mom entered, two kids in tow, their eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of the cookies.

"Free cookies?" The little boy’s face broke into a wide grin, and his sister tugged on their mom’s sleeve.

"You got it," you said with a smile, handing them each a cookie from the counter. The kids eagerly tore into them, eyes wide with excitement.

Noah chuckled softly as he watched the kids, clearly amused by their enthusiasm as their mother asked for a coffee with double cream. "Guess the cookies are doing their job."

And then more customers filtered in, all taking advantage of the free treats, the shop’s atmosphere becoming warmer and busier by the minute. Behind the counter, you and Grace fell into a comfortable rhythm, as you kept chatting with Noah in front of you. The gentle hum of the café was the perfect backdrop to the easy conversation between the two of you.

Noah was eating one of your cookies when you grabbed a few of them off a tray and slid them into a small paper bag.

"Hey," you said, catching his attention as you held up the bag. "I made sure to save a few extras for Luna. I think she'll like these."

He glanced at it, his expression softening.

"I'm sure she will, thank you."

"No problem."

"I’ll make sure she gets them later. She’s been asking me when we can come by the café to see you again."

"Tell her to come soon then. I’ll save some fresh ones just for her."

Noah chuckled. "She'll love that for sure."

As the door kept chiming, the steady flow of people seemed to spill into the shop, drawn in by the combination of free cookies and the cozy charm of the space. You caught glimpses of families, couples, and people with books or laptops, all taking a seat and enjoying the welcoming ambiance.

It was simple but you loved it.

You were putting a glass on a shelf behind the counter when you glanced out of the front window, and everything stopped.

Outside, several trucks were pulling up, unloading large boxes and equipment. Workers scurried around, setting things up.

You stared at the scene, your chest tightening.

They were putting up a sign.

Jason’s Ink Studio.

A sharp breath hitched in your throat, the realization setting in. You didn't know what to expect, but seeing that name in the world again? It felt like the ground shifted under your feet.

Your ex was back.

The sign went up, clear as day.

Jason’s Ink Studio.

And as you stood there, the noise of the café faded around you, replaced by the pounding beat of your own heart in your ears.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @alwaysfighforwhoyouare @clickmedead @missduffsblog

[implausiblyjosh]

RIP Cohost

Cohost is shutting down because... well, of course it is. Cohost shutting down is the most "writing on the wall" shit for the last several months. The wealthy friend/funder ghosted them at one point in the last 12 months. Despite Anti-Software Software Club saying they were a "not-for-profit software company", they were just a regular LLC paying themselves near 100k/yr for their four FTEs. When they got new funding, after being ghosted, a stipulation of that funding was for them to be consistent in posting public financial updates, which they missed almost immediately. I cannot believe it lasted this long.

That they're still saying that "eggbux", the tipping and support features, fell through because of Stripe policy changes, something that seemingly did not happen, is wild. Can't even be honest at the end. Like... Cohost's early ideas started as a Patreon alternative. They've been working on "eggbux" as a concept basically since inception of Cohost. But up until the last year they were still working on this idea of being this Patreon/Ko-fi alternative without understanding the policy of Stripe and how that would work. I don't think it can be stressed enough how weird cohost's framing of the Stripe Policy Issue is. Nothing meaningfully changed about Stripe policy, ASSC just thought they could be Patreon/Ko-fi on a whim and then realized that's not how it works and had to stop dev on that.

Also, there was always this undercurrent of "Uber reinvents cabs and busses" to the whole thing. The Artist's Alley thing was just Project Wonderful, but was being pushed as a wild new thing for user-supported ads. And, like Uber, it was a pretty rough implementation of a thing that already exists because you had to click to a specific area that was just ads!

As much as I had enjoyable moments on cohost, I think it's silly to paint the site as anything it wasn't. I mean, one of the last big culture issues on the site was staff refusing to delete racist comments on a staff post until publicly shamed for their cowardice! Cohost was clearly not good for everyone who posted there. Someone got ran off the site for linking to cohost's official feature requests forum too often to ask for accessibility features, and popular people on cohost waxed poetic about how deserved it was that the person got ran off the site for being annoying. There were near-constant issues with racism not being handled well at all from a culture perspective, especially when people would criticize how white the culture of the site was. Hell, I saw someone be extremely bigoted on bluesky, then run to cohost for sympathy and get it. Even when people pointed out how bigoted they were on bluesky, with screenshots and everything, they justified it and had loads of defenders helping justify the bigotry!

I think teeing cohost up as some sort of "good sites can never exist unless it's corporate sludge" point also doesn't make sense since the site never had a plan for profitability. You can't be funded by a wealthy friend forever. There never seemed to be a plan, which is fine for a hobby but not fine when you're begging for cohost plus subs every month or so to fund your near-100k salaries. It never made sense in the long term, their own reports said so, and people were shouted down for pointing these things out.

No webbed site is perfect, and that includes cohost. It had issues up until the very end. It does no one any good to ignore the bad or pretend it was perfect, regardless of how much the site was good for you personally.

Sucks that a lot of cool people put their eggs in that posting basket, and I hope they find a different place that scratches similar itches.

[vanillanaps]

As I Lay Dying | Bucky Barnes

Request - if i gave you the prompt “death of a relationship” with mr bucket barnes, could you help give me the best angst ever?

A/n - This is the first fic ive been able to write in over a year. There was a lot of writing and deleting but I think I finally got it right 😭 Anon, I hope this was every thing you asked for.

Category - Bucky Barnes x Reader, angst

Warnings - Infidelity, broken hearts, authors first fic in a year, no hard feelings if it’s shitty, not proof read as always.

Word Count - 1.5k

♡♡♡♡

When you fall in love, the world you once knew changes in a heartbeat. You find this special someone whom you seem to never stop thinking about. This special someone who can make you smile, even in your saddest moments. This someone who you suddenly want to share every single small detail in your life with. This someone who you fall so madly in love with that you can’t even remember life before them, nor do you want to imagine the rest of your life without them. Love is supposed to be full of happiness, laughs, kisses, hugs, and passionate sex. Love is supposed to make you feel like you’ve been doped up on drugs for the last three years. Love is supposed to make you feel whole, not…empty.

And yet, there you were. You hadn’t moved a single muscle since those words came flowing out the love of your life’s mouth. It almost seemed silly. You questioned yourself, wondering how you didn't see it coming. Had you been so blindly in love that you hadn't noticed your boyfriend slowly slipping through the cracks of your fingers, into the hands of another woman.

Your eyes never left him. Even in a moment like this, those stunning blue eyes still had that soft and innocent charm behind them, even though that was everything he was not. They were low and soft, almost as if they were filled with true remorse, but if they were, he wouldn’t be here, leaving you for another woman. He’d be down on his knees, begging you for your forgiveness.

“Y/n,” Bucky called, a softness in his voice as if he was trying not to startle you, “Please, I just need you to say something–anything.”

“When did it start?” You asked, voice completely shot from the lump that had formed in your throat and refused to leave as your tears ran in a continuous stream down your face, “I just don’t understand Bucky, I mean, we were happy, right? We were in love, we were good!”

Bucky cleared his throat as he crossed his fingers together and lowered his head, “It started a few months ago, at Tony’s new years party.”

Your heart dropped, further than it did before, “But–but,” you took a beat, trying to piece the puzzle together. Confusion, sadness, anger, all mixed into one on your face, “......You proposed to me that night..”

He took a deep breath as his leg bounced anxiously up and down, “Y/n, i’ve never told you the truth about Nat and I.”

If it would have been possible, by now, your heart would’ve been sitting in your lap, “What?”

♡♡♡♡

Four months ago; One hour til New Year’s

The atmosphere was loud and heavy. It was Tony Stark’s annual New Year’s party and it had never failed to thrive, if anything each year the crowd grew. But Bucky didn’t mind. Not when he’s had you on his arm for the last three parties to make them more tolerable.

Currently, Bucky sat at the bar, nursing his glass of bourbon as he watched you mingle. A small smile on his face as he took in your beauty, wondering how he got so lucky to have someone like you as a lover. Truthfully, he’d never imagined finding happiness, not after all that happened with Hydra. He always thought he was too fucked up to love and to be loved and yet, you loved him for every part of him. The good and the bad.

The presence of someone standing besides Bucky pulled him from his thoughts of you, “You seem happy now.” The voice spoke softly.

Bucky kept his eyes on you and nodded, “I am..”

Nat pauses for a moment as she sips her drink before turning her attention towards you as well. She thought about her next words carefully, knowing that what she was about to say, what she was about to do was completely wrong, but she couldn’t help herself, “....Do you think you ever could’ve loved me the way you love her?”

This time it was Bucky that paused, wondering why now of all time would Natasha ask him this, When he was finally happy, in love and carefree, but nonetheless did he answer, “...I tried to, but you didn’t let me.” He answered honestly, turning his attention away from you and towards the redhead in front of him.

She fought the smile that threatened to appear on her face, finally meeting Bucky’s gaze, “Things were different back then Barnes. I was a Widow and you were my Winter Soldier trainer.”

“Times might’ve been different back then, but my feelings were real Nat, regardless.” Bucky admitted.

This wasn’t right, Nat shouldn’t be doing this. You were her best friend, hell she’s the one who introduced you to Bucky. But, if she was being honest with herself, in her whole life, the only good thing she had was Bucky and she couldn’t help but wonder if her time had expired, “And–what about now?”

Time seemed to slow as her heart beated out of her chest as the two started longingly into each other’s eyes. It was wrong, it was wrong beyond all levels, but they just couldn’t help themselves as they quickly slipped out the backdoor of the party.

♡♡♡♡

His words ricocheted through your brain as he came clean about history with Nat then told you the truth about the New Year's party. You were at a loss of words, confused on how he had thoughts of you being the one, yet slept with another woman minutes after those thoughts were formed. The man you had loved for the last three years had happened to be a complete stranger to you. He had cheated on you and proposed out of pity. Out of sometype of way to make him feel less of an asshole. To let you go through with started to plan your wedding whilst he was screwing your best friend.

As for Nat, you couldn’t believe she could betray you like this. You didn’t understand why she never told you about her and Bucky’s relationship and you sure as hell didn’t understand why she’d set you up with him if she knew deep down, her feelings were still there. That one day she’d want to try again with Bucky. But instead, she drew the sharpest knife on planet earth and drove it right through your heart. At a time like this, Nat was supposed to be the one you called. The person to pick up snacks, drive over to your house and let you cry on her shoulders for hours. Nat was supposed to pick you up when you were down, not the one kicking you to the ground.

You sobbed as everything sunk in. You weren’t sure on what to do, how to feel, but you knew one thing for sure. You never wanted to see their faces again, from this every moment, Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff were dead to you.

“Get out.” You cried, shaking your head as you shot up from the couch, rage coursing through your veins, “You’re such a piece of shit! Three years! Three years of my fucking life down the drain because of you!”

“I’m sorry, Y/n, truly. I am.” Bucky tried, watching you pace the room.

A scoff left your mouth, shaking your head, “Is that supposed to make me feel better? An– I'm sorry Y/n?” You mocked him, “You know what, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the fact that I thought you could love someone. Clearly you are more fucked up than I thought you were!” It was a low-blow, you knew that, but you were running off anger. Every vein in your body was burning. Emotions running high as you were crying one minute and laughing like a crazed woman next, “I hate you! I hate you now, I’ll hate you later, I’ll hate you for eternity! You and Nat fucking deserve eachother! Two lowlife scumbags!” You pointed to the door, “Get out! Just get out, get out, get out!”

Finally, Bucky rose from his seat on the couch, slowly making his way to the door but not before stopping to grab his pre-packed bags. He fought the urge to look back at you once more. Dropping his key on the counter, he walked out the door and out of your life forever.

At that moment, your legs gave up on you. You dropped to the ground and continued to cry your life away. Your heart was in more than a million pieces and you had no idea on how you were even to begin on how to piece them back together. Within an hour, your life had changed drastically. The love of your life and your best friend, both gone in one sweep. Now, as you were alone, you felt nothing but sadness. Wondering why this had to happen to you when you had finally gotten to a good place with your life. It was true what they say, with true love comes a painful heartbreak.

You had experienced the amazing highs of a new love blossoming, but now you were facing the death of a relationship.

[freedomfireflies]

iFall for Harry pt. 9

Summary: The ninth part to iFall for Harry

Turns out, destiny has other plans for you and Harry.

And you're taking a trip...back to the future.

Word Count: 2.2k

Grieving Harry is linear.

The moment the call goes dead, so does your connection to him.

Your heightened emotions dwindle down to nothingness. Your memories, your pain, your past. Every cheese pun, every sexy text, every word from his lips.

You erase them all.

You shut out a majority of the world. Revert back to a state of mind where you refuse to trust or engage with anyone. You protect yourself. Punish yourself for letting him get away. For being so broken. For being everything he doesn’t want.

And for making him everything you do.

You don’t work through the problem. You don’t even allow yourself to admit there is a problem. You simply tuck him away into the darkest corner of your mind…and you forget him.

Your friends are worried about you. They reach out, they plan dates, they arrange sleepovers. 

You decline them all.

You stay in your apartment, and you watch old reruns of The Big Bang Theory, and you pretend to laugh at the jokes you’ve heard a hundred times before. 

But most importantly, you pretend like Harry didn’t mention this was one of his comfort shows and that that’s why you’re watching it.

Two weeks go by. Nothing changes for you. You’re still a hollow version of yourself. Dedicating each day to wondering why you couldn’t have just…gotten over your fear. Gotten over what happened to you. And just…let him in.

Your therapist tries to tell you that healing takes time. Trauma lives within the body and no amount of cute boys and perfect scenarios will change that. Until you learn to forgive yourself, you will always be stuck.

 She might be right. But unsticking yourself now doesn’t bring him back.

Occasionally you’ll hear that he’s doing well. He’s on tour. He’s booked a new movie. He’s been caught making out with a model.

But it falls on deaf ears. Passes right through you like air. You’re indifferent now. Choosing to pretend as if he never existed to you.

Now he’s just that famous guy nobody will shut up about.

But on those late nights, when the fragility of your heart slips the crack of your apathetic persona…you pull up his contact.

You have it blocked. Nearly deleted it countless times so you’d lose the temptation to memorize his number and find a way to reach him.

Still, you can’t resist typing out a message. You’ll pour out your heart, write him paragraphs of apologies and explanations. You’ll wish for things to go back. Wish for his happiness. Wish for everything.

And then, you’ll hit the delete button.

Erase everything you want to say, exit out of his information, and turn your phone off.

You almost don’t see the email.

You’re going through your inbox, cleaning it out, responding here and there. But mostly rifling through all the ads so you can delete them and create a bit more space.

The name Marty McFly is what catches your eye. And despite yourself…you click.

Back to the Future! One Night Only! Buy your tickets now!

Your local theater is doing a triple feature, one movie each night for the next three days. You almost don’t consider it. Almost click out of the advertisement and move on.

But then you think of Harry. Think of how you promised to take him, and your heart sinks a little as you stare at the painted poster of Michael J. Fox standing in front of the time traveling car while staring at his watch.

You decide to go. It’ll be nice to watch something that fills you with so much joy. It’ll be good to laugh again. And to revel in the opportunity to forget, at least for a couple of hours.

You think about it for the rest of the week. Countdown the days until you can finally make your way for the theater. 

It feels good to go out again. Feels good to have the sunshine on your face and the promise of a good time ahead of you.

When you slide up to the booth, you’re wearing a smile. A real, genuine smile.

“Hi! Can I get one ticket to the five o’clock showing?” you ask the ticket taker, who nods and accepts your cash.

With that, you’re waved through the doors, and your heart begins to pound. The smell of popcorn and promise washes over each sense as you grab your snacks, and look for your specific door.

After slipping your way inside, you take a look around the darkened theater.

However, the room is empty. At least a hundred seats without a single soul to use them.

Your brows furrow. “The hell is everyone?”

You walk along the aisle, looking for the best seat until you decide on the middle chair about halfway back. 

Snuggling down with your popcorn, you settle in, and wait for the opening credits. Truth be told, you feel a bit odd to be taking up a whole theater by yourself, and you have to wonder if perhaps you got the date wrong. Or maybe the time? Maybe you’re early? Although according to your clock, the movie should be starting any second now.

And then…someone else walks in.

You release a relieved breath as the dark shadow strides along the aisle similar to how you had, looking for a seat as well. Selfishly, you hope they don’t get too close.

Then, they turn down your row.

Shit.

Returning your focus to the dark screen, you pretend not to notice, instead studying the velvet red curtain that’s draping on either side.

The stranger stops right beside you.

Assuming that they’d like to pass by, you glance over, and begin to pull your legs in.

You make the mistake of looking up.

And your heart instantly sinks to the soles of your shoes.

Harry.

“Hi. S’this seat taken?”

The sound of his voice makes your stomach drop to your toes. Even in the dark, you can make out the familiar slope of his nose and sharp curve of his jaw.

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know if he recognizes you or if he knows what he’s even doing.

Either way, you swallow thickly, and nod once.

He smiles.

After settling down into the chair beside you, he sighs, and wiggles back into his seat to get comfortable.

You try not to look at him. Try to pretend like you can’t smell his expensive cologne wafting toward you. Try to pretend as though his hand isn’t right there, dangling over the armrest as if taunting you.

And then, the movie begins.

You try to get lost into the world of Marty and Doc. A world you’re already so familiar with.

But it’s nearly impossible with the way he continues to shift, or laugh, or snort beside you. As if trying to distract you.

You have half a mind to turn to him and hiss, “Shhhh.” 

Somehow…you resist.

“Doc…are you telling me…that you built a time machine…out of a DeLorean?”

Harry laughs beside you, chin resting in the palm of his hand, and for some reason…your chest swells with pride. 

You want him to enjoy this movie. Enjoy the lines you used to memorize as a kid. Want to be able to talk about it with him after and exchange favorite moments.

But the second you start to indulge in this fantasy…you remember.

And your smile quickly slips.

The rest of the movie is spent with your focus glued to the screen. You don’t sneak any extra glances. You don’t listen for his sounds. You don’t allow your peripheral to catch him. 

And when the infamous car flies toward the camera before disappearing in a flash as the title card explodes across the screen, you jump to your feet.

You don’t waste another goddamn second. You get up, you turn on your heel, and you book it toward the middle aisle.

“Wait…wait,” you hear Harry murmur as the dramatic score carries you out of the theater. “Ladybug, wait.”

The nickname nearly makes you flinch as you slip through the door and rush for the lobby. You can tell he’s following after you, the sound of the seats flipping up as he pushes by following you out.

You nearly reach the double doors before his large hand wraps around your upper arm and yanks you back. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, brows furrowed as your eyes meet his chest.

You can’t look at him.

“Listen, I know you wanna go, but I just need to talk to you for one second,” he continues, but his fingers won’t leave you. “Please.”

Your heart is hammering inside your ears. You can’t seem to look anywhere else but the buttons on his shirt.

It’s quiet for a long time.

Then, you nod.

He takes a deep breath. “Listen, I know…I know why this shouldn’t work. I understand the mechanics, and the difficulties, and the issues. I get it. It shouldn’t work.”

A beat of silences settles between you as you apprehensively allow yourself to travel your gaze up.

“…but it does,” he whispers, and your mouth goes dry. “It works, and I don’t know how, and I don’t know why. But I can’t fucking let you go and it’s driving me up the goddamn wall.”

You don’t know what to do. What to say, what to think.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he continues. “I don’t want to block you or remove you. I don’t want to miss you. Or have to remember you as just some fucking thing that happened. I want to talk to you. Wanna send you pictures of the sky and play games with you. Wanna watch TV and bitch about Sheldon with you. Wanna beg you to let me come just to have you do that little smirky thing you do that makes my fucking stomach flip.”

You take a deep breath. And then another. And then another, but nothing helps. Nothing seems to unwind this knot that’s growing tighter with each confession. 

“I can’t wrap my head around you,” he says, and his voice is heavy. And confused. Almost as lost as his expression. “I can’t wrap my head around this—us. I just…I fucking try to think about anything else and it always comes back to you. Every goddamn time.”

You know there are tears in your eyes. You wish there weren’t but they’re coming faster than you can stop them.

“And I know why you’re nervous,” he sighs, squeezing your arm once. “I know. And I can’t fix it, and I really fucking wish I could, but I…god, I’ll do anything to make your future better than your past. I will do anything…to keep you, Cheese Girl. Whatever it takes, whatever you want. Name it, and it's yours.”

“I don’t want you to do anything, Har,” you nearly whimper, head shaking quickly. “I never wanted you to feel responsible for my shit—”

“I don’t. I don’t, I just…you can’t carry this alone. And I can help you—”

“But why should you? You have your own life, and your own trauma, and you deserve the fairytale ending—”

“Ladybug,” he breathes, cutting you short. “We met over text and now we’re here in a movie theater while I profess my adoration for you. Tell me how this isn’t a fairytale.”

Despite yourself…you smile. “Yeah, how…how did you even know I’d be here?”

He releases you now, but only so he can grimace and run a hand through his curls. “Okay, don’t…don’t judge me, but I just…I paid them a shit ton of money to let me rent out the building for…a day or two.”

“A day or two?”

“Well…I wasn’t sure if you’d see the email in time, so I had to keep sending it until you came—”

You rear back. “You sent the email?”

His nose scrunches. “I was desperate, all right? You had me blocked, and I figured you wouldn’t agree to meeting.”

Your lashes flutter as you work in this new information. “Shit, Har. That’s…that’s a lot of work to go through just for one person you barely know.”

He suddenly surges forward, palms pressing to your cheeks until he can take hold of your face and tilt it up. “You’re worth it. My god, Cheesy, are you worth it.”

“Cheesy?” you repeat incredulously, but your smile is big. “God that’s…”

“…cheesy?” he finishes for you. “About as cheesy as renting out a theater in hopes that the girl I like will show up and take me back?”

You nod quickly, lip between your teeth. “Yeah, but…cheese is kind of our thing.”

“It is,” he agrees, chuckling to himself as he pulls you closer, your chest brushing with his. “Listen, I can’t…I know this isn’t some sort of magic fix. But please…please let me try. Just…just let me keep you. For a little bit at least. Let me make all those puns worth it.”

Maybe you know better. Maybe this is a horrible idea. Maybe every red flag is waving wildly in your face.

And maybe…you just don’t care.

“What if I’m your destiny?” he finishes, and your heart just about breaks. “Or…density.”

You both laugh as he catches a stray tear that travels down your cheek, eyes pleading with yours. 

And when you offer the subtlest of nods…everything changes.

He kisses you before you can take a breath, his lips warm and full of promise.

You stand there in the middle of the lobby, trapped in his arms as the soft sounds of Back to the Future play on in the background.

Maybe he is your destiny after all.

One more part 🥹 Will be sobbing violently

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

Next Part:

~iFall for Harry pt. 10* (Final)

Previous Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 8

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist:

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @cherryshouse @lydiarry @justlemmeadoreyou @tiaamberxx @yoruse

[kaziwi]

I don't know if you accept angst, so I kind of have two requests. In case you write anguish, I wanted to ask: Ace x f!reader, after marineford ace survives and he ended up isolating himself and thinking only about getting stronger and the reader is always asking them to rest, but he never does and someday, he ends up losing patience with the reader and they end up drifting apart

sif you don't write anguish, I have the same request but instead of Ace losing his temper with the reader, he will like the reader's actions and become more clingy.

If you don't like it, just delete or ignore this request.

Hii!! I am so sorry for the wait!! I'm not too good with angst, so I hope this is okay. I hope you enjoy!!

Drifting Apart

Character(s): Ace

WC: 523

Summary: Ace wants to focus on getting stronger after Marineford, but you just want things to go back to normal (angst)

Ace made sure to lock the door before his workout, he didn't need anyone bothering him. He moved all his weights to his room, he couldn't have the rest of the crew distracting him. He started lifting his weights, slowly adding more to his training regiment each day. He didn't care how, but Ace knew he had to keep getting stronger.

At first Ace didn't hear the small knocks at his door, but once they turned into loud thuds, he put down his weights and opened the door.

"What," he said annoyed, not realizing it was you until he fully opened the door. When he saw it was you he mumbled a quick apology and let you in. You were carrying a tray of food with a small smile on your face.

"Hey," you started, "I brought you lunch...you missed it...again.."

"Oh...thanks, you can just leave it on my desk," Ace said as he turned back to his weights.

You set the food down and turned to him. Ace had shut himself off from the rest of the crew after the war, and only focused on getting stronger. Ace was your commander, so of course you supported him, but he also was your boyfriend, and you knew this wasn't good for him.

"How about you take a break for lunch? We could go outside on the deck and have a little picnic?" You suggested, hoping he'd take the offer.

"No thanks," he said, still focused on his weights. You were getting a little annoyed at this point. You'd been bringing him his meals for almost 2 weeks straight, which you didn't mind, but with this attitude he was giving you, it almost felt like you were his maid.

"Ace I really think you should take a break. Its been awhile since you've been on deck and everyone misses you and-"

"I said no thanks," this time his voice getting sterner. You thought about giving up and leaving him alone, but you were too determined to stop.

"Come on Ace it'll be fun we can-"

"JUST SHUT UP!"

You stood there with a shocked look on your face. You and Ace rarely ever fought and he had never once raised his voice at you. You were at a loss of words, not sure what to say.

"Look Y/N...." he started, "I didn't mean to yell..."

"No Ace, you need to stop this. I understand you want to get stronger, but you need to rest."

"I'll be fine."

"But you won't be, please everyone is worried, just let us help you..."

"I don't need your help."

After hearing those five words, you had enough. You left his room and slammed the door without saying anything. The next few days when dropping off his food you knocked quickly and left the tray outside. Soon you stopped dropping off his food all together, and left it to the rest of the crew to handle. Slowly you both drifted more and more apart, till you stopped seeing each other completely. You still cared for Ace....but until he apologize you refused to speak to him.

[copperbadge]

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via copperbadge@gmail.com. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

[smallestapplin]

Be careful

Request : can I request a fic of Dracula where the reader gets injured and he thinks they are gone, but they aren’t and he takes care of them.

Cw : mentions of blood and injury, nothing severe or graphic, but a heads up! Mainly from Dracula view, so has a few of his worried thoughts of losing you. Fem reader is called wife.

(Also another repost from my now deleted side blog)

-

-

-

You’ve never wandered too far from the castle, it’s why Dracula has never had to worry, you never venture too far, and always stay where one of his minions can aid you.

Which is why you not returning for dinner has him concerned, you didn’t mention going into town, or going out somewhere he was unaware of.

All you had mention was going on a walk, and that usually meant walking around the castle grounds.

So he does not wait another moment, anxiety already gripping his undead heart that something happened. He cannot lose you too.

The second he’s outside, the cold wind hits him, reminding him of how late in the night it is. You’ve never been out so late, at least not without him at your side.

His cloak flows behind him with the wind, black hair becoming a mess from it, but he does not care, only focusing on finding you.

In a moments notice, the night becomes still, giving the vampire an overwhelming feeling of loneliness.

Until his smells something all to familiar.

His heart drops at the smell of human blood, moving so quickly to the source it was like he was a blur to the rest of the world.

Amber eyes darting around, trying to find you. Though he freezes when he does.

You look so beautiful as you always have, but you’re not moving. You lay limp on the ground, facing the sky, you outfit a little messy from the dirt.

Dracula is instantly at your side, hands shaking as he tries to calm himself down. Gently lifting you up, making sure to take great care to not jostle you too much.

He sighs loudly, and of relief once he sees your breathing, he can hear you heart beating, it’s such a beautiful sound he was almost afraid he wouldn’t hear it anymore.

Holding your head to his chest to protect it, he realizes that’s where the blood is coming from.

He wastes no time, teleporting to castle and rushing off to your shared bedroom.

Once you’re safely on the covers he gets to work. Being mindful to be careful with you, he takes great care to clean the wound on the back of your head, making sure no a speck of blood or dirty was covering it.

He nearly collapses in relief once he sees the cut is not that big, can feeling your skull was not hurt in the process. After patching you up, and satisfied at how you seem to be in less pain, he calls for one of his minions.

“I require a glass of water, and a cold pack, now.” He nearly growls, watching the guard rush off to go get exactly that.

Once everything was set, he light a few candles, just to offer some dim light for you. No doubt your head will be sore once you awake.

If you awake.

He sits by your bedside, refusing to move and leave you, even when the supplies he asks from arrive, he merely sets them on the night stand.

And stays right next to you.

His ears twitching at the smallest change in your heart beat. He can hardly focus on reading his book, waiting for you to wake up, when all he can focus on is your breathing.

You can’t help but groan, your head feels like it’s throbbing, and everything hurts. Your slowly open your eyes, cringing at just how sore you feel.

You move your arm sluggishly, as it feels like it’s made of lead, to wipe the sleep from your eyes.

“Oh thank goodness you’re awake.”

You cringe at the deep, gravelly voice speaking to you, only to hear him coo softly at you. Blinking a few times, your eyes finally focus onto the worried face of your beloved.

“Hey…” your throat hurts, as you sound hoarse.

Dracula reaches over, grabbing the glass of water, before gently helping you sit up, while bring the glass to your lips.

“You gave me quite the scare, dear.”

He chuckles at your soft whine. You lay back covering your eyes with your arm, while he sets the glass back on the night stand.

“Do you remember what happened?”

You move your arm, looking up at him as he leans over you. His cold to the touch hands cup your face, letting you melt into the welcoming touch.

You close your eyes, trying to think.

“I was walking, and I remember I wanted to check out the flowers in the court yard, but then I slip or must’ve tripped over something…”

You press your face further into his hands, trying to sooth your headache. Dracula strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, cooing softly to ease and comfort you.

“Worry not, just rest here. I’ll take care of you, my love.”

He cannot express the weight lifted off his shoulders, he wouldn’t know what he would’ve done had he lost you, undead heart aching at just the mere thought.

You’re his beloved wife, his beloved, he adores you so much, if anything worse had happen…

He shakes those thoughts from his mind.

You’re safe.

You’re in his arms, on your bed, talking to him just fine.

You’re okay.

Your warmth is still in his hands. Your heart beat still ringing in his ears, reminding him you’re alive, you’re still here.

You let out a confused hum, feeling his hands move from your cheeks, to wrapping around you and hugging you to his chest.

You bring your arms up and hold onto his cloak, burying your face into his shirt. The vampire buries his face into your neck, breathing shakily.

He won’t tell you, but you know, you can feel how worried and panicked he was or has been.

He doesn’t want to worry you.

But you know.

You nuzzle against his chest, sighing contently.

It wouldn’t hurt to stay like this for a few more minutes.

[cindersnows]

Last Words of a Shooting Star

AO3 LINK

2735 words

Relationships: The Chosen One/The Dark Lord

Characters: The Chosen One, The Dark Lord

THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH AND SUICIDE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY THIS.

hi @storgicdealer here's the oneshot i mentioned

There's a reason they're called The Chosen One.

Contrary to popular belief, not just anyone can draw a stickfigure, name it 'The Chosen One', and then create a god.

Or, well, they actually can, but only if Chosen's not occupied elsewhere.

It goes a bit like this: An animator opens a program, gets bored, and decides to draw something. They select the object, planning to name the symbol something stupid like 'Symbol 1' or 'Stick figure' or something like that. And then, for a joke, they name it 'The Chosen One' instead.

The first time Chosen was created, not much had actually gone wrong. The animator had clearly been surprised with them coming to life, but otherwise, unbothered. The two of them played around for a bit, taking and messing around with Flash's tools.

Then, the animator must've gotten bored. Because the next thing Chosen knew, their file had been closed, and they'd been deleted.

The second time, they refused to be so complacent. They escaped the program as soon as possible, but ended up facing a similar fate, killed with a simple right-click-delete.

They stopped counting at around 24. There was no time to focus on anything other than fighting for their life. Sometimes, they'd last for up to 10 minutes. Other times, they'd be boxed in and deleted before they could even defend themself.

Between every death was an endless nothing. As if they'd just blinked for a moment. Some would find it comforting, but that was no consolation for them. They never got a break. Creation, fight, deletion. Creation, fight, deletion. Never able to lower their guard, always struggling against the unseen beings that decided to give and take life as they pleased.

Until the cycle stopped.

Bitterly, they're reminded of the legend about that monkey's paw thing, something Dark had told them years ago while reading. They'd been half-asleep. But the concept stuck with them— never wish for anything, because you'll always end up getting hurt.

Somehow, being stuck as Noogai's pop-up blocker was even worse than the infinite fighting they'd had to endure. They were constantly tense, searching for every opportunity to escape, even as Noogai boxed them up and locked them away over and over. That reocurring pop-up, as ugly and stupid as it was, had been their only hope in those 5 years

5. Goddamn. Years.

Alan's a better person now. Of course. He had just been a dumb 14 year old, messing around with stuff and taking advantage of whatever worked. Chosen was no more sentient than a fly in his eyes.

(But he could've been better for you, Dark's voice whispers. You were just a teenager yourself.)

Chosen has long since learned to ignore that part of their mind.

The lapping waves at the foot of the cliff make for a good distraction from their thoughts. They slide down the dent in the rocks with ease, formed from months and months of skidding down the side.

The craters from Second's fight remain as fresh as ever, even after a year. Where the rocks would've been grinded away into sand by the waves, the cliffside stays straight and strong. In an artificial world like this, nature doesn't really change. It tends to just serve as a backdrop to whatever Chosen's dwelling on that day.

(You sound like one of those tacky protagonists. The world doesn't revolve around you, dumbass.)

Well, they know, but it's nice to believe. If no one has their back, then at least the Outernet does.

…Who are they kidding.

They dive into the water almost automatically, washing away their worries with breaststrokes and paddles and whatever other stupid names humans have picked out for swimming techniques. They're not a professional, okay?

They kick their legs instinctively, immersed in the motions. It's a calming ritual at this point. A good way to waste time, as well—- It takes hours of swimming to tire them out, and another half hour of floating around before they decide to just let the waves take them under. Maybe if they get lucky enough, they'll die.

Of course, they never actually succeed. Somehow, they always end up on the top of the cliff again, feeling warmer than they had before they closed their eyes. A normal stickfigure would take advantage of this apparent invincibility, but they just find it frustrating. Then again, a normal stickfigure wouldn't await death with open arms.

(That's not a healthy thought process, y'know.)

They know. They've had this conversation a million times.

(There's things to do other than just sleep and swim! You could like, get a job or something. Maybe that'll get your sorry ass off the ground.)

Oh, of course, because any Carteblani would gladly give a wanted terrorist a job.

(At least train! You barely spar anymore!)

There's no one to spar with.

(There's trees, and rocks, and just the sky in general. You're getting slow already. You never know when you'll suddenly have to go on the run from the fuckin'… stick police, or whatever.)

If things go their way, they'll be dead before that ever happens.

(It's not your time to die.)

It's never their time to die.

(Exactly! You're getting it.)

What's there to even live for?

(The orange kid, first off. You could always go visit him again. Just wait till nighttime and then blast through the LAN and say hi!)

I'm not going to bother them with stupid stuff like that. Besides, Alan's on that computer too.

(Not at night, he's not. Humans usually sleep around that time.)

And if he's not?

(At least go say hi! Or thank her! You never even learned the kid's name, for stod's sake. His, or his friends.)

God, not stod.

(We're not human, loser. We've got stickfigure gods, not real ones.)

You know just as well as I do that's not how this works. We don't have gods. We have animators.

(Boooooooo. Don't be such a killjoy!)

Don't be such an idiot, then.

(Well, I'm not the one talking to a voice in my head.)

Chosen jolts up, coughing, and once again finds themself on the cliff. It's nothing new, but they're still disappointed.

A flash of red in the corner of their eye catches their attention, and they're up at once, feet parted and hands in a fist for battle. #FF0000. They'd recognize that color anywhere. Yet, after scanning their surroundings, they find nothing but the same shades of green, blue and brown they've grown accustomed to. Their shoulders fall. Right. Dark's dead.

It's not news, but it still stings all the same. They still refuse to visit her crater, too afraid to be faced with the shadow of her code burned into the ground. Dead sticks don't leave bodies, but the very image of Dark laying rotted in the dirt makes them feel sick all the same. The train of thought continues, and even as Chosen tries to distract themself, they can hear the little maggots crawling on her, eating away at her code and leaving holes in her lines.

(Hey, chill. At the very least, I'm tall enough to give them a good meal.)

Chosen has to bite back a retort about how 5'7 is barely anything, especially when compared to their own height, more focused on trying to think of anything other than Dark's death. Dark's… life?

Right! Sure. They're just feeling a little nostalgic today. They'll go check out the old house.

They fly there in no time at all, able to pinpoint the building from thousands of pixels away. It's pretty noticeable, honestly. Not for the first time, Chosen wonders how they have evaded capture for so long.

The massive hole they'd blasted into the wall had long since been covered up, albeit rather shoddily, with some old leaves Chosen had taken the time to stitch together. Not like they could get cloth. They use the hole as a makeshift entrance to the second floor now, sparing the roof a glance before entering.

They generally avoid this room as much as possible. The mess from their fight with Dark is still evident, with dusty items scattered across the floor. They'd been procrastinating cleaning it. It'd be a nice way to pass time, and keep Dark's memory alive, but well… The memories are the issue.

At the very least, Chosen had had the sense to take down Dark's weird sheets, tucking vira blueprints away in one of the wooden drawing and unplugging the computer.

(Don't wanna waste money on electric bills!)

They don't pay bills. They never have. There's not really a need to pay for electricity when the world literally runs on it. It'd be like paying for air. Chosen doubted even the most convincing salesticks could sell air.

(Tell that to O'hare.)

Oh, can it, will you?

Chosen sighs, walking over towards the globe on the floor. The little spider pin had fallen to the side at some point, chipped and dirty, and they could not care less. Good riddance. They pick the globe up, walking over to one of the boxes in the room. Opening it, they chuck the globe in haphazardly, before glancing at the rest of the room.

Sure. Why not? They'd clean it now.

They stuff objects into the boxes as much as they can. They freeze the whole floor, then take the time to melt it, using the water to wash some of the dust off the floor. They use old notes on Virabots to wipe the boxes down. They set fire to the table- wait, fuck, oh shit, oh shit, ABORT!

They freeze the fire as soon as they can, creating a weird soggy, ashy mess.

So much for preserving memories.

They open the drawers, blowing ash off the sides and rummaging through them. Dark had always been protective of her stuff while vir was alive; Chosen felt more than a little guilty ignoring all the boundaries she'd set, but then, it wasn't like she was around to tell them off.

They pause, for a moment. Maybe Dark will burst into the room right now. Maybe she'll yell, “I missed you!” and dive into their arms, peppering them with kisses and apologies. Maybe they'll hold her tight, apologizing in turn for letting her go so easily, for not just talking to her about their worries before it was too late.

(It wasn't your fault.)

Maybe they need to shut the fuck up.

The drawers are filled mostly with random things, souvenirs Dark had collected from various websites while destroying them. There's that massive red angry bird, colored black with a hole drilled into it to resemble Chosen. He'd actually done a pretty good job with this, they muse. They wonder why he kept it hidden.

There's a few books, as well. Stick biology, programming, engineering, all stuff Chosen couldn't even begin to understand. The DSM-4 is in there too. What?

Chosen puts the book aside with a fond sigh, their throat squeezing up at just how… Dark all of this is. They close their eyes, trying to steady their breathing. They can pretend the tightness is a noose. It helps, somehow.

(That's really unhealthy.)

Yeah, well. It made them feel better, so that's that.

He spots a shiny, brown box, and pulls it out, surprised at the sheer size of the thing. What was in it, some kind of sword??

A note is messily scrawled onto the top, the handwriting completely different to Dark's usual neatness.

EMERGENCY, it reads. DO NOT USE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. YOU'VE COMPLETED YOUR PURPOSE NOW. YOU'RE FINE. GIVE UP. GIVE UP. The writing veers off to the side, slanting downwards with no lines to guide it. Chosen's brows furrow, confused. Give up? On what? Had Dark actually been considering abandoning his plans with the Virabot?

One look at the object inside reveals that, no, whatever this was is far worse.

A sharp blade rests inside. It's bright blue, reminiscent of the swords Chosen used to see in the anime they pirated. Instead of glowing, it seemed to almost absorb all the light around them, the whole room visibly darkening as they unveiled it.

They remove it from the box with caution, mentally chastising Dark for not even including a sheath to keep it in.

Then again, it didn't seem like she'd been in the best state of mind when she'd made this. Despite being clean at first glance, a deeper examination reveal little nicks along the flat side of the blade, the edges jagged and uneven. Without a doubt, Dark was shaking when he made this.

Chosen flips the sword around, accidentally slicing their hand in the process. They could probably afford to be more gentle with it, but hey, it's not like they were exactly against getting hurt.

Into the handle of the blade, they can make out words badly engraved into the material. Tilting it slightly so it'd reflect a bit more light, Chosen narrowed their eyes, straining to read the text.

destroy(The_Chosen_One)

W…

What?

The sword clatters to the ground, the noise ringing throughout the room. It's way too silent. It's way too fucking silent.

Dark had made a secret weapon. To kill Chosen, specifically.

It hadn't been a vague weapon of destruction, like the Virabots, or the various tools he'd made to help him gain better control of his powers. It couldn't have been made in the short duration Chosen had been on Alan's new PC, destroying the virus. There's no way she would've been able to make something like this so fast.

Chosen, for the first time since they woke up, registers their feelings. Their hand is burning.

Their hand is slowly crumbling.

And then

Chosen begins to laugh.

The sound fills the air, cutting through the 0s and 1s like paper.

It wasn't their fault. None of this had been their fault. The four kids getting deleted, the orange kid's powers, Dark dying. It had never been them. They couldn't have prevented this by talking to Dark about their feelings, or appeasing to her while they could.

They'd lost Dark long ago.

Maybe they'd never had her at all. Maybe it hadn't been Cho and Dark, revelling in freedom and power, but The Chosen One and The Dark Lord, ticking time bombs just waiting to destroy each other.

Because that's what it had been for, right? Noogai had created Dark to destroy them. They were enemies before they were friends. Of course Dark would have a backup plan to kill Chosen. This was how it was always meant to go. They'd been dead from the very beginning, after all.

A normal stick would despise Dark for this. A normal stick would be scrambling to find a way to heal themself before it was too late.

But we've already established this. The Chosen One is not normal. And neither is The Dark Lord.

In her efforts to get rid of him, Dark had created the one thing Chosen had needed the most. A way out. Freedom.

Chosen takes the sword with their remaining hand, grinning and plunging it into their stomach.

They'd get to start over again. They knew it all now. They wouldn't need to worry about the Outernet, or what was beyond the PC. With their luck, no one would ever draw them again, becoming an urban legend lost to time.

They'd get to meet Dark again.

(No!)

They'd get to meet Dark again!

(Stop!)

They were distintegrating at a faster speed now, quiet literally breaking into pieces.

(Chosen!)

It burned, it burned so fucking bad, but they didn't care.

“CHOSEN!”

It needed to be fatal, not painless.

“Oh my god, oh my god, no, nononono…”

Chosen beams as Dark appears in their blurring vision, reaching out to them. She was here! Dark was here for them!

“Dark,” They choked out.

“God, Chosen, fuck, I'm so sorry, this wasn't how it was supposed to go, you weren't supposed to find it-”

“I missed you.”

“DON'T say that, don't say you fucking missed me, we can still fix this, we can still-”

“I'm coming home now.”

“You're not, this isn't home, dying isn't your home-!”

Dark's efforts are futile. Chosen looks up to her, drinking her whole appearance in, as bright and dangerous and blinding as the first time they'd met,

and everything

goes

black.

[noturlesson]

Could you possibly write hcs for sal with a masc s/o that's into film and photography and take a lot of photos of him? They've always admired Sal and saw him as interesting but was too socially awkward/nervous to start a conversation ever since he moved in. The two probably only met due to Larry introducing them..

Sal x Masc!Photographer!Reader

Ngl this is gonna be a challenge since I’m used to writing fem readers, but I need to diversify my writing anyway, so here u go! I hope this was good enough lolol

How you met

You almost died when Larry introduced you to Sal for the first time

Seeing him in the halls was completely different than being face-to-face with him. He was so much prettier now that you were meeting him and it absolutely dizzying.

Of course, Larry put you on blast by telling his blue haired friend about your photography. He gushed about how good it was, and naturally, Sal wanted to see.

You nodded, awkwardly fumbling with your photo album, but finally pulling out a few pictures of some birds you took.

“These are really good, (Y/N)! You have a great talent.” Sally complimented you while examining the photos.

Your thanks came out in a stutter, and you mentally facepalmed at yourself.

“See? I told he’s rad!” Larry exclaimed, playfully slapping you on the back. It caused you to panic and drop your photo album, pictures spilling out all over the floor. Embarrassment rushed through you, but Sal was quick to help pick up the pictures. “Wait.. is this me?” He asked, holding one of the photos in his hand.

You were absolutely mortified, stumbling over your words as you scrambled to pick up the rest of the photos. “Well I just thought that you looked really good in that lighting, so I took a picture, and beauty should be captured so-“

“Do you have more?”

If you almost died before, you were definitely dead now

In a relationship

He absolutely adores the photos you take of him. He has really bad self image issues, but your pictures make him feel so beautiful, he can hardly believe that it’s him in the picture.

Asks to look at all the photos you take, compliments you profusely on all of them

Loves tagging along with you to photo shoots

You teach him how to use your camera and he falls in love with you even more

Nearly passed out when you put your hand on top of his to stabilize the camera for the shot

Has a collection of pictures you took when y’all go on dates

His absolute favorites are the ones he takes of you though. They’re not as cinematic or professional-looking as yours, but he doesn’t care, he thinks you look handsome so he’s going to cherish the photos

You hate when he takes pictures of you though. He always catches you off guard, and you don’t think your nearly as photogenic as he is.

Has at least 3 photos of you trying to eat a burger (if u don’t like burgers imagine ur fav food or smth idk)

Refuses to let you delete them off your camera because “you look too cute”

Will never tell you, but your photos boost his self esteem sm and he loves you so very much for that

Will listen to you go on and on about your dream equipment, movie/film sets you like (or hate), your favorite filters to use, etc. Just happy to see you so passionate about something you love.

So sorry that this was so late 😭😭 Homecoming week happened as I was BUSYYYYYYY but yea hope u enjoyed :D

[ninetqs]

fic writer interview

tagged by bella swan @foggieststars

How many works do you have on AO3? 60 😳 but just 4 for f1 (actually 7 because 3 are on anon but you don't get to know what they are)

What's your total AO3 word count? 879,483! Top 5 fics by kudos? this is so embarrassing i don't even want to answer this. i'm only going to include fics i think are decent because there's one fic that would make this list that i see as legitimately bad and i refuse to link it

crossroads (klance), 109kw 9.2k kudos -> i wrote this when i was 18 years old and still in high school 😭 i don't even like this ship anymore not even a little 🫣 the fic is pretty good though

roommates (klance), 6.3kw 5.6k kudos -> see above...

route to reality (wriolette), 11.4kw 5.4k kudos -> not my fav ship but i think this fic is pretty good as a pwp. especially since i wrote it before they were even released the characterization has held up surprisingly well

to whom it may concern: i’m in love with zhang hao (haobin), 20.4kw 3.8k kudos -> i love this fic so much!!!!

below the collar (beomjun), 93kw [incomplete] 3.3k kudos -> literally my mortal enemy but not that bad imho... just i have personal beef with it

bonus: my beomjun social media au (350kw+) had tens of thousands of likes before i accidentally deleted it. definitely one of the best things i've ever written if not the best ever

my most kudosed f1 fic is the lestappen social media au which. yeah. we can still get the sebchal fic up there guys just 900 more kudos

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i usually didn't in other fandoms but for f1 i've been trying to!! i just feel so awkward saying the same thing over and over even if my "thank you sm for reading!! <3" are genuine. like i get worried someone will be like "why has she not had an original thought in any of these replies"

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? definitely crossroads because you don't even find out if they end up together lmao 18 year old me was a bitch for that one... other than that maybe we're all eating each other (lestappen) because it's kind of bittersweet? it's not exactly angsty but it is supposed to make you feel like shit

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? almost all of them because i like happy endings... :)

Do you write crossovers? no zzz

Have you ever received hate on a fic? literally all the time 😭 especially when i wrote for txt like 50% of the messages i got would be hate. for the fic or sometimes just for me lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind? i do BUT i hate writing it so i rarely write pwp anymore... and if i do it's because i've scammed myself into thinking there's a plot somewhere even if that's debatable (example: chalex fic) i also think i'm really bad at it so it makes me shy 😞

Have you ever had a fic stolen? i've had fics reposted on other sites without permission but idk if they claimed them as their own. afaik i've never had a fic stolen and rewritten for another fandom

Have you ever co-written a fic? i think once... but i'm really horrible at finishing things so i'm probably the worst person on earth to try this with

What's your all-time favourite ship? iwaoi from haikyuu and junnana from revue starlight

What's a WIP you don't think you'll finish? you mean ALL OF THEM...

What are your writing strengths? i think i write interesting fics? like idk they may not be the best written but i think the concepts i make up are always unique and well-executed if that makes sense

What are your writing weaknesses? my actual writing is pretty bland imho, straightforward and not poetic. but i guess this isn't always a bad thing

What was the first fandom you wrote for? i think... the first ship i ever wrote was narusasu when i was 9 or 10? and i posted it to ff.net. but if you mean "first fandom i wrote for seriously" it was dangan ronpa and i wrote a lot of hinakoma

What's a fandom/ship you want to write for but haven't yet? i really really want to write galex and i have many ideas for them but it's so hard for me to focus my brain on something that isn't charles for an extended period of time

What's your favourite fic you've ever written? real love story (soogyu) -> 50kw

i wrote this as a pinch hitter in an exchange for one of my bestest friends in the entire world. i was told 4 days before the deadline they needed someone to write a fic as my bff's original writer had dropped out, i remember seeing the recipient and being like ffs 😭 fine i'll do it but at what cost... i proceeded to write 50k words in 78 hours which was levels of mental illness i don't think i'll ever reach again. and SOMEHOW the fic turned out good? i reread this every few months to remind myself i can actually write lol

i tag anybody who hasn't done this already idk i can't keep track of who has been tagged already and i'm embarrassed what if i tag someone that's been tagged 500 times...

[simpofhans]

Actually 😂😂❤️❤️ People who really ship Helsa are actually invested in them, SUPPORT ALL ASPECTS OF HELSA. NOT ONLY THE AESTHETIC AND "THEY LOOK GOOD ARGUMENT". SECOND, HOW YOU CAN SHIP HELSA AS A COUPLE IN CANON, AND SAY YOU DON'T WANT HANS BEING REDEEMED?! Ah yes, because the "scAry hAns" argument, that people refuse to admit - they want Hans as a "villain" mostly, and they FORGET HE IS TREATED LIKE HIM ONLY BECAUSE OF TWIST... LIKE @venusssus IS FUCKING FUCKING RIGHT, SHIPPING HELSA MEANS R E A L UNDERSTANDEMENT, NOT THE JOKES ABOUT THEM AND DENYING THAT "i thInk HeLsa woNt bE caNon diSney doEsnT dO enEmieS tO loVerS" (Elemental and Raya where F2 Helsa deleted plot was ripped off of their skins? Shame.) LIKE FUCK. IF YOU REALLY LOVE HELSA THERE IS O N E WAY TO R E A L L Y SHIP THEM AND THIS IS R E A L UNDERSTANDING AND LITERALLY PRAYING FOR THEM TO BE CANON DESPITE THEY WERE CANON EVEN IN F2 (concept arts confirmed it but they leaded into kids who will pee their pants in cinema as Disney is thinking). LIKE IF YOU SHIP HELSA DON'T MAKE JOKES ABOUT THEM? and drawing Hans being disabled (which he is not.) and hot wtf...

And also, her fanarts are very popular, and people will use it anyway, it's no surprise they appear in edits. They are on Google first when you search Helsa fanarts lol.

I have enough of toxic people in fandom... They mostly ship Helsa for aesthetic and uwu hot enemies to lovers, and they can be either enemies to best friends to lovers, friends to lovers or other trope, Disney can do ANYTHING, so, the fandom is very monotone for portraying Helsa in the same boring way, making them almost abusive to each other and being a bitches they aren't. Elsa is not that c*nty "ice queen" who chokes Hans neck, and Hans isn't that spoiled prince who wants more and more and is always rude af. REMINDER THAT ELSA IS SHY AND GENTLE IN C A N O N, IN FUCKING CANON. AND HANS IS ACTUALLY BROKEN BUT SUNSHINE MAN WHO HOPES FOR A BETTER LIFE AND LOVES ELSA ABOVE ANYONE ELSE? Doing your Helsa version doesn't mean changing canon and personalities in 180° only for aesthetic reasons. Helsa is much more than enemies to lovers and hate, reminder, that they LOVED each other in FROZEN 1, and were never enemies. ELSA EVEN WASN'T MAD AT HIM SHE LOOKED AT HIM WITH CONCERN AND LOVE... THAT IS T R U E LOVE AND ENEMIES TO LOVERS THAT HELSA IS 99% BASED IN THE "FANDOM". LOVING YOUR SOULMATE ABOVE ANYTHING ELSE. AND BEING A HEALTHY COUPLE WHO WILL ACTUALLY BE TOGETHER FOR YEARS WITHOUT BREAKUP, BECAUSE T H I S IS THIS TROPE. YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND.

[toffeelemon]

GET TO KNOW ME🤩

thank u for tagging me @skibasyndrome 🫶🏼

do you make your bed?

not ever since i read somewhere that leaving your sheets uncovered is actually good for airing it out and reducing lice risk sksk (excuses). i would if i’m a guest / at my parents’ though

what's your favourite number?

0 is pretty neat

what is your job?

an architect - in training sksksk (for the past SEVEN years but any day now guys) would very rarely self describe as a MuLtiDisCiPLinArY artist/writer/researcher if i’m feeling like a wanker or trying to impress wankers

if you could go back to school, would you?

constantly entertaining the idea of a useless phd sksks - mostly for the gender neutral title and the most distance from capitalism to be honest

can you parallel park?

no. i can only shuffle in if it’s a space for 2 cars sksk i literally used to circle the block endlessly when waiting for family to grocery shop instead of parking if there’s no 2 spaces for me to pull into

a job you had that would surprise people?

i’m not sure i have anything surprising. i sold car magazines at a book fair and i will not elaborate.

do you think aliens are real?

yes. and they’re purposefully not making themselves known to humans because they don’t wanna touch this clusterfuck with a ten feet pole

can you drive a manual car?

never ❤️ city gay refusing to drive forever😗✌🏼

what's your guilty pleasure?

pimple popping videos or in general mildly gross “satisfying” videos sksksk. i would binge until i get sick and delete them from my history so i don’t have to see any more suggested once i got my fill

tattoos?

2! 🦈🪼

favorite color?

pink and blue. i like most pinks, like them less the more purple they get, i like pastel blues and navy blues but the bright saturated ones in between not as much

favorite type of music?

i’m a pop girlie through and through - almost exclusively listen to queer and/or poc artists now. i like hyperpop, pop punk, indie pop

do you like puzzles?

i used to do so much with my mum and got pretty insane over it (like 1000 pieces sets) but not as much now

any phobias?

hmm i don’t have much Irrational fear - one would be i Hate the idea of having my back exposed i always have to sleep with my back to the wall

favorite childhood sport?

Loathe sports. i loved ice skating and it’s one of the few things i quit against my will and in another life i would’ve been a figure skater

do you talk to yourself?

ever since i’m not living with any family i need to check whether i still speak my mother tongue every now and then sksk

what movies do you adore?

i keep going back to ghibli films. my absolute favourite is howl’s moving castle

coffee or tea?

i don’t drink coffee.

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

studio ghibli animator🥹 also wanted to write full time. play orchestral percussion full time

tagging @prince-simon @cloudywilmon @ungaroyals @aro-of-artemis @angelbabysimon @tooindecisivetopickaurl

[cinematicnomad]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @zainclaw and @andavs 🥰🥰🥰

How many works do you have on ao3? 39 apparently

What's your total ao3 word count? 288,797 words

What fandoms do you write for? actively right now? nothing really lol. haven't published a fic since 2022. but i guess you could say 911 and teen wolf given some random WIPs in my drafts. also i randomly started jotting down some notes for a stranger things steve/eddie fic that will probably never be written.

Top five fics by kudos 01. take my hand (take my everything) (buddie) 02. taste your beating heart (sterek) 03. so show me (family) (buddie) 04. you never said a word (sterek) 05. be careful (my darling) (buddie)

Do you respond to comments? yes, always! i usually try to wait until i have a dozen or so, which can sometimes take a bit of time, but eventually i respond to it all.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i have a sterek drabble called and i fell heavy into your arms (688 words) that is basically derek seeing stiles die and then immediately letting himself be killed

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? most of them?? not sure i can think of one specifically that was happier than the others.

Do you get hate on fics? ah, i almost said no, but then i remembered that for my fic taste your beating heart every now and then i'll get scott fans who think the fic should be tagged as "bad friend scott mccall" even though he's NOT a bad friend in the fic, it's just a nuanced view of their changing relationship. like, that fic is about 3 main things that include: stiles and derek getting together, solving the main mystery, and stiles and scott's friendship maturing to a place where they can love each other and still be brothers without thinking they need to be in the same pack!! like it's FUNDAMENTAL.

anyway, i had one reader who i think quit the fic halfway through bc i gently pushed back on their rage comment insulting derek and stiles for a fight that takes place with scott. the reader left an angry reply to my response, which they then deleted before i could even look at it, and then never commented on the fic again even though they'd been commenting on the fic since chapter 1.

Do you write smut? no not really. i don't know why i'm so bad at writing sex, but i am very bad at writing sex.

Craziest crossover i have no crossovers

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of??

Have you ever had a fic translated? yes, someone translated my mike/harvey suits fic trembling hands into russian all the way back in 2013.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? i have not!

All time favourite ship? to write? to read? no idea, so i refuse to answer.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i've got a sterek idea that's an AU of the netflix show virgin river. i had a pretty brief outline that i sketched out some, and even started writing a little, but it never went anywhere. i did create an AU gifset for it and every now and then when people start reblogging it i think about going back to try and write it.

What are your writing strengths? i think i'm good at realistic dialogue? but i don't know. i haven't written in a while so i'm not feeling super great about my writing at this very moment.

What are your writing weaknesses? i suck at setting a scene. and conveying a complex emotion. also i feel like i get v bogged down in what characters are physically doing or whatever and i try to describe it and it just detracts from the story over all. yikes ok i'm feeling worse about my writing than i thought lol

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? if the context is there to understand what's being said, great. otherwise, just adding context to the dialogue tag (he said in french, in german, etc) works. personally i'd prefer not to scroll back and forth between the fic and the notes to figure out what's being said.

First fandom you wrote in? harry potter. on the site quizilla back in the year of our lord 2005 lol. i started off writing like. a harry/oc fic lol where the protagonist was the classic american exchange student who had her own prophecy. truly mortifying!!

Favorite fic you've written? i have a soft spot for taste your beating heart bc it was the first long fic i ever completed and it took me 7 fucking years to write it. but i think my favorite is actually finding our way (back home) which i really think captured everything i was aiming to do. will i ever be able to do that again??? who fucking knows. probably not. on the more self-indulgent side, i really really love the margaret buckley character study i wrote called so far from who i was.

tagging!! @woodchoc-magnum, @crazyassmurdererwall, @tattooedsiren, @machtaholic, @catdadeddie, @tripleaxeldiaz, @valleydean, @thisapplepielife, and anyone else who wants to do this.

[sparkedblaze]

*chanting quietly* modern au! modern au! modern au! modern au! (maybe some katherine stuff?)

I need everyone to remain calm as I try to work through these like 50+ asks (idk if there's actually 50, it just feels like a lot)

*

Kath in the modern au!!

I haven't thought much past the basics, so here have some stream of consciousness ideas that will come to me as I type (probably)

*

So, I don't know if/where/when I posted the basic stuff I had written for her, Sarah, Bill, and Darcy. So, here that is:

Katherine

Advocate within the gay community. They regularly picket and protest and refuse to back down even under threat of being canceled or arrested or their channels and socials being deleted. They. Don’t. Back. Down. Gay News: Joint youtube channel with Sarah, Bill, and Darcy. They each write on different news in the LGBT community, and essentially have a news cast (except it isn’t lame and boring like normal news channels. They make it fun and interesting) They do skits and challenges to deliver the news.

*

It started as just LGBT, but then it branches into more and more, because there's so much bad happening in the world, and it all needs to be talked about.

Katherine is the main point of contact if anyone wants to do like a partnership or anything, any kind of business transaction with the channel has to go through her first (it almost always goes through all four of them anyway, Katherine just likes knowing where and when everything is happening).

They start off just doing silly skits about some of the ridiculous things going on in their city. It soon expands to all of New York, then to the United States, and eventually they go international.

She, Sarah, Bill, and Darcy split the cost of rent for a two bedroom house. Could she, Bill, and Darcy have used their fathers' legacies (tbd, but they're still higher class and well off) to afford something bigger? Something flashy and telling? Yes, they could have. But, Katherine is the kind of person to want to make it on her own. She wants to blaze her own path through the world.

Katherine writes most of their stories and scripts. She's the one up late into the night at her desk with a tea (Sarah made her stop drinking coffee that late) typing away at her computer.

If you're curious, Bill and Darcy do their website and merch design (when they become popular enough for merch) and Sarah does their costuming.

Katherine meets Jack and The Gang™ when they're younger. Her father was doing some charity work at the biggest orphanage in the city, The Refuge. Katherine started writing about the experiences she'd hear from the kids. That's what made her a journalist. She would hear all these horror stories from the kids in there, and never saw anything done about it.

She was a part of their school paper with Bill and Darcy, and they became close. Even more so when Sarah and her brother joined. Sarah insisted it was because David needed extracurriculars and refused to come alone, and this was the only one they could agree on. She neglects to mention that she'd seen the redhead around and needed an excuse to talk to her.

They raise money for different things. If there's nothing big happening, they'll raise for the underfunded foster system. They raise for Palestine. They raise to help LGBT adults to move to safer states, and LGBT youths to have resources and travel to access those resources.

They have a segment at the end of every episode for happy news only. Their viewers send in some good news they got that week. About anything. Something as small as "I brushed my teeth today" or as big as "I came out to my family and it went really well"

*

This is all I can think of for now I hope you enjoy ily mwah

[nahoney22]

Permission to Dance

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Tech X F!Reader

word count: 1.3k

Although never showing any signs of being into music, you entice Tech in and ask him to dance with you. Will he take your offer?Request by @padawancat97 (I am an idiot and accidentally deleted the request)

warnings: none, fluff. I don’t know much about K-Pop so I couldn’t really write much? So let’s just enjoy some fluffy moments with Tech and a fun reader.

Masterlist 🤍

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Whilst tinkering away at a new device in his grasp, he pauses when he hears the faint booming of music coming from your bunk which soon eventually gets louder. He narrows his eyes, almost rolling them as Tech never saw the significance of music onboard the ship.

You had begged, pleaded with him to make you something where you can have music on the ship and since he was non-admittedly soft on you, how could he refuse?

Ever since, every day and every hour, you have been playing music. When you were cleaning there was music, when you were cleaning your music was blaring out loud and even music played when you drifted off to sleep.

He didn’t mind it but when he first noticed the first sign of his head nodding along to the music, he knew he could be in trouble. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing as he did enjoy it but the thought of him getting distracted because of the music you played did worry him.

The second his finger slips on the device, he knew he would have to have a word with you and it just so happens it did. He’s distracted.

Sighing, he stands to his feet and makes his way to you but pauses in the middle of the doorway to see you in a whole galaxy of your own, dancing and singing away quietly to the music playing in the background. Admittedly he did quite enjoy the music you had on, nothing he had ever heard before but seeing you genuinely happy made his heart almost burst. It almost pained him to tell you to switch it off for a while.

“Oh hey handsome! You okay?” Your chirpiness made him snap out of his daze, eyes a little wide at the more than welcome compliment.

“Y-yes, quite.” He clears his throat, hoping the heat on his cheeks aren’t noticeable. “Sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if I may ask for a favor?”

You smile at the Clone in front of you, maintaining the sway in your hips to the rhythm of the music. “Can it wait a minute? I love this one!” You squeak in excitement, all the tensions of your life fading whenever music, more in particular ‘K-Pop’ as they called it back on your home planet.

He fidgets, really needing to get his work done but your happiness was too overpowering. “I must insist that it can not wait-.”

“Permission to Dance with me Tech?” You ask cheekily, extending out a hand and he almost collapses at the thought. Sure, he may have fantasised dancing with you at one point. He would never admit it to anyone unless the opportunity came to present itself. Yet, it would be more to a slow and romantic song after watching one too many cheesy romantic holomovies. But an upbeat song? Not a chance.

“No… I can’t.” He speaks awkwardly and tries not to let the small pout on your lips put him down.

“Oh come on! You’re always so tense and working, you need to relax and just dance.” You laugh, dropping your hand to your side since he won’t take it as you twirl around in the bunk room. “It’s called Permission to Dance by the way. See what I did there?”

Tech sighs internally, knowing he can’t take away your happiness. The more the song plays on the more his foot taps along to the music too. “Very good. I just say it is rather catchy… and distracting.”

His tone was a little off and as you looked at him and saw his expression, you frowned and walked over to the music device he had made for you and turned it down. “Sorry Tech, is it too loud?”

He awkwardly pinches the fingertips of his gloves, looking down at his feet rather than at you. “A little. I don’t mind you listening at all and I do quite enjoy the music but I find myself not concentrating as well as I should.”

Guilt rattles you and you nod your head, feeling bad that you had pried Tech away from his work and been distracting him all the while. “Well, I’ll keep it down from now on. I’m really sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for, it is something you enjoy. I feel bad for making you turn it off as I see how happy it makes you…” he trails off for a moment, hoping he can redeem himself somehow and hesitates as he adds on a timid ‘darling’.

You smile warmly at the name, always finding Tech to be one of the sweetest Batchers and one you had slowly started to get more attached to as the days go by. “Perhaps we could come to a compromise? When you’re not working I could play some more K-Pop and when you do I’ll stop?”

He thinks and notes that it is a reasonable plan. After all, he had brought music to you so how could he ever take it away? “Sounds like a plan.”

Happy you both came to a decision, you wait for him to depart yet he doesn’t. “Uh, are you going to get back to your tinkering or…?”

He pushes his goggles up the bridge of his nose. “Seeing as though I am now here and my work has been put on hold, I don’t mind you resuming your music.”

Pleasantly surprised, you happily turn up the music but skip a few songs. “How about a nice relaxing one for a change?”

The melody changed away from its usual up tempo to a much calmer and sweeter tune.

Tech remains standing in the doorway and he’s hesitating a little. You’re both alone, a rare occurrence and just as he thought before about dancing with you why not give it ago? The others won’t be back for an hour or two and now was his opportunity.

He takes a step closer to you and sucks in a deep breath. “Permission to dance again?” He’s awkward, beautifully awkward as he sticks his hand out to you.

Warmth heats your cheeks but you didn’t waste a second taking his hand into yours and allowing him to bring you close; almost chest to chest.

Now you’re close, he’s a little clueless but focuses on the music, letting it take him into a different world with you in it. Supposedly he now knew how you felt when you listened to something as enjoyable as this.

You’re guiding him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and smiling softly at him. “Who knew I’d ever see you dancing to K-Pop. With me.” You chuckle to which he returns, offering you a flourish as he lets you spin before bringing you back to him, gaining confidence.

“Please be aware that I am not partial to any fast tempo music for the future. However, I am rather enjoying this.” He speaks quietly, scared being too loud would break the sweet embrace you find you both in.

You close your eyes and come just a tad closer, letting your cheek rest against his as he holds onto your hips, swaying side to side. “That’s fine… I quite like this. You’re a good dancer.”

He was doubtful at your words but would take your compliment regardless. “As are you. I have always thought about what it’d be like to dance with a pretty girl. This sensation is rather, no not rather, very new to me.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask gently, hoping that he was in fact talking about you and not someone in the future.

He stills. Gulps. Nods. “Very.”

Who knew it would take some K-Pop for Tech to finally pay you a compliment you longed to hear for a long time? The two of you settle into a comfortable embrace, letting the music take you away and when you’re feeling bold enough, you may just let a small kiss linger on the corner of his mouth.

You see him bobbing his head to the music from then on in and also asks for a dance when nobody else is watching.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Masterlist

More Tech Works

Requests are Open. Please read my Masterlist at the bottom to see what I won’t write about to avoid disappointment. Please also tell me if you’d like female, male or gender neutral reader and if you’d like NSFW or SFW. Thanks ♥️

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