#anyways. if anybody ever reads my writing. be normal about me as a person I implore you

[mcmissileproof]

tfw you write something that's not actually about you, literally or metaphorically, but it's just close enough that you hesitate to share it with anyone else in case they use it to draw seriously incorrect conclusions about you

[fanfics-for-you]

what's in a name? || Patrick Verona (TTIHAY) x gn!reader (Modern!College!AU)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ✨️Patrick Verona✨️

Summary: Patrick Verona is apparently the most intimidating guy on campus. You just want to get by, pass your classes, and get to your actual dreams. When you casually approach him one day and decidedly are not scared of him, Patrick has some questions.

TWs: light language, use of Y/N (only like twice), second person POV (you, yours).

[[A/N: This is basically under the concept that you approach Patrick first, and aren't really as afraid of him as anybody else. He's intrigued. Also this is a college AU, because I am in college and I think it's weird to write about high school lmao. ALSO,,, I know this is incredibly niche and a dead tag, but... I watched the movie recently and was violently possessed to write this. The parasites in me what to continue this universe, but idk. Anyway. Enjoy :)]]

You were exhausted. Totally and completely exhausted.

You'd stayed up all night for your chem quiz, and still, didn't think you did great on it. Which made your day ever so worse. So, when you went to the library, and someone was sitting in the spot you always sat in, you halfway wanted to cry and halfway wanted to rip your hair out. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be a big deal, but today it was. So, with a certainty that rivaled a lawyer in court, you stomped over to the chair.

For a moment, the guy didn't even look at you. He kept staring at his friend, a surprisingly 'metal' dressing guy who was talking avidly about something.

You cleared your throat.

That's when they both looked at you.

You were entirely focused on the one in your seat. A taller guy with built shoulders, curly hair and a sharp jaw. In normal circumstances, you'd probably think he was hot. Today was not normal circumstances.

The man raised an eyebrow.

Okay, so maybe it was a little normal circumstances, but that wasn't relevant.

"What are you doing?"

The man answered, simply -maybe a little confused, "Sitting?"

"That's my spot," you clarified, pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" the man pretended to start getting up before pausing -speaking sarcastically, "-Oh wait, I've just remembered, this is public property."

Mindlessly noting that he had an accent that you couldn't quite place, you rolled your eyes, "I sit there everyday. Just give me the spot."

"You weren't sitting here all day," he pointed out, "-or else I wouldn't be here."

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, "I was busy failing a chem test, now get up."

His eyes skimmed over your face, thoughtfully, "Do you know who I am?"

"Why-" you sighed out, frustrated, "-would I know who you are?"

Even despite the comment, he did seem familiar somehow but you weren't going to tell him that.

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, and didn't say anything. You felt like you were going to explode in fiery flames.

You groaned, "Oh my god. There are thousands of seats on campus, just go sit somewhere else."

"Exactly," the man countered, "-why don't you sit somewhere else?"

"Because-" you huffed out a breath, "-that's my spot."

"And why is this spot so important to you?" He shuffled slightly, moving his hands along the cracks of the seat, "-You got something good stashed in 'ere?"

"Dear god," you huffed out a breath in defeat, "-Whatever. Enjoy your seat, asshole."

And with that, you spun on your heel and pulled yourself deeper into the library. Taking a breath in, you pulled yourself into a seat not too far from the original, but you were around the corner so you wouldn't have to look at his stupid face. You soured just at the thought.

You pulled open your chem book, and read through it -trying to figure out which ones you definitely missed, that way you could get the ballpark for what your grade might be. You really needed to know, to make sure your GPA stayed in the range for your dream university.

But, in the middle of it, you heard someone plop into the chair in front of you (it was a group of chairs, like for a group of people if necessary).

Before looking up, you spoke -sharply, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Your eyes shot up at that familiar accent, and you frowned.

"You got the seat," you pointed out, bitterly, "-What the hell do you want now?"

"Your name," he answered simply.

You blinked, (what?) before settling back into your seat and flipping to the next page, "Yeah, no."

The man seemed to move forward, and unwillingly your eyes flickered to him (his curls moving with the motion), "Why not?"

"I don't give my name out to strangers," you retorted -flicking your eyes down to your book, "-especially not assholes."

"Don't know if I can change who I am," he smirked, "-but, I can work on the stranger part."

You frowned, eyeing him particularly, "Seriously, what do you want?"

"I already told you," he replied, fidgeting with something in his hands (you weren't paying attention), "-I'm Patrick, by the way."

"Well," you exhaled, sharply, and ignored his name, "-you're not getting it."

"Well," he repeated with the same sort of grin, "-I'll just have to work on that too, then."

You looked up at him again and squinted at him -trying to read him somehow. All he did was grin at you, a charming kind, of course, that made crinkles on his cheeks. You ignored the flutter in your chest that it gave you and darted your eyes back down to your book.

The next day, you were in better spirits. After studying for an entirely different class, you were pretty sure you aced that test. So, you weren't as pissed, thankfully. Until you went into the library to sit between classes like you always did.

You paused in your step and frowned.

The guy (Patrick, your mind treacherously noted) was sitting by your chair, mindlessly tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair. He wasn't in your chair, thankfully, but still, he was in the one beside it. Pointedly close.

You huffed out a breath, and moved toward the chairs, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," he repeated.

You raised an eyebrow.

He seemed to take that as a repeat of the question -before saying, confidently (too confidently), "I'm studying for a test."

"You don't seem like the studying type," you retorted, throwing yourself into the chair and pulling out your laptop -realizing it was no use to try and get him to leave.

Patrick pointed out, "You don't even know me."

"And I don't intend to," you replied with ease, flicking your eyes to meet his, "-your point?"

He grinned the same bright one from before, amused maybe. Your heart skipped a beat, so you dropped your eyes back down to your laptop. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to look away.

"What's your major?" He asked, thoughtfully.

"I won't tell you my name," you leveled, scrolling through your online schedule for homework, "-but you think I'll tell you my major?"

"Well," he reasoned, "-a name is much more identifiable, but your major," he shrugged, "-not so much."

You eyed him again for a second, before saying, "What if you just want to look up my classes and hunt me down?"

Patrick smiled again, before asking, "What is your next class?"

"Why?" You ask, pointedly, "-So you can force me into talking to you again?"

"Preferably," he replied, grinning cheekily.

You raised an eyebrow, and bit your lip to pull down a smile that begged to quirk up, "I'm not telling you that either."

"What if I just follow you when you leave?" He questioned, curiously, "-Figure it out myself?"

"And what if I-" you smiled at him -patronizingly, "-call the campus police?"

He raised both eyebrows as if to say 'touché' without saying it out loud. You bit down another smile and moved back to your computer -pulling out your planner and jotting down dates.

"Your pissiness," he suddenly spoke, "-Are you often filled with boiling hatred?"

"No," you sigh out, before shooting him another patronizing smile, "-that's special just for you."

He laughed then, and something warm zinged down to your toes (you ignored it), "Do you seriously not know me?"

"Do you know how many Patricks exist in the world?" you point out, "-No, I don't know you."

"So you do remember my name," he smirked, patting along his lap with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but didn't say a word.

It ended up like that for the rest of the time, Patrick shooting questions now and then, and you shutting them down. His stupid smirk and low, rumbly, accented voice, you hated that he actually seemed kinda nice -all things considered.

But, as you stood up to leave, you decided on something.

"Literature," you said simply, gathering up everything into your bag.

He paused, shooting up his eyebrows, "What?"

"My next class," you answered, nonchalantly pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "-Intro to Literature."

Patrick grinned, bright and shiny, "Gen Ed?"

"Yeah," you answered, moving to put the last few things in your bag.

"Can I walk you?"

Your eyes snapped to him then, curiously -detailing the rather honest look, before answering solidly, "No."

He burst into laughter then, throwing his head back against the chair -you mindlessly watched his curls fall back with the motion and then snapped your eyes away.

"Same time tomorrow then?" He asked, still laughing a little bit (something in you twinkled).

"Nope," you exhale a breath, ignoring the disappointment that swirled into your chest, "-I'm not on campus tomorrow."

He seemed to falter for a second, "Do you live on campus?"

You raised a solid eyebrow, you really think I'd tell you that?

"Right, yeah, okay," Patrick conceded, holding up his hands in faux surrender, "-What days are you on campus?"

You paused, pressing your lips together, but something in you did it, "Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays."

He grinned a little brighter, "Are you here around the same time on Mondays?"

Something in your chest flipped, but even still, you answered, "That's what you have to figure out. Not me."

And then, you spun on your heel and walked out of the library. His laughter trailed out behind you, and if you had a small little smile on your face at the noise, that was only for you to know.

Monday came, and you woke up early and made your way to campus -the first class of the day was at the crack of dawn. You physically despised it, but so is the schedule of a college student. Plus, you still worked, so the earlier the better for your schedule -didn't mean it didn't suck though.

Sipping on your drink, you wandered back toward the cafeteria -crossing the main connecting area, where everything led to. There was a baseball game going on, not an official one by the looks of it, in the grass. Your eyes hinged on the game for a few seconds, the echoes of laughter shooting toward your ears. It looked fun, but you weren't too invested in being outside for that long. Before you could look away though, your eyes caught on a familiar frame.

Patrick.

His hair was tied back, and he was wearing a pretty bland tank top (just grey), with some typical jeans. With his hair pulled back, you could see his jaw more distinctively -the sharp lines clear from even this far away. (Not that you were looking.) The sun bore down on them but all of the players seemed to be happily distracted. And you kinda were too.

You pursed your lips, for a moment, and looked forward again after a breath, heading toward the cafeteria again confidently.

Before you could get very far, though, you heard a familiar accent.

"Hey!" He yelled, a little distant -footsteps following his voice, "-Hey!"

At first, you weren't sure if he was talking to you, so you kept moving.

"Shit, I don't know what to call you," he called out, breathless and much, much closer.

You spun on your heels with furrowed brows, and met his eyes over a few people's heads. The grin that swallowed his face whole should've been criminal, bright and twinkly and... charming.

Before you could say anything, he was by your side with heavy breaths -assumedly from playing baseball and getting over to you. Leaning over slightly, he leveled out heavy breaths. You were almost concerned enough to offer him water, but he seemed to settle himself before you could.

"Hi," he echoed, "-'Ve been looking for you all morning, what time did you get here?"

You blinked, all morning?

"I get here early, 7, and immediately go to class," you answered, a little blankly (looking for you, looking for you, looking for you).

"Oh," he paused, "-I got here at 8. There's classes at 7?"

"Obviously," you respond, because you did in fact just say it.

"Did you-" Patrick started, before pursing his lips together, "-Are you going to the library now?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "No, I'm going to the cafeteria to eat between classes. Why?"

"I'm actually quite hungry myself," he avoided the question, "-Do you mind if I tag along?"

"What about your game?" You furrowed your eyebrows even further -eyeing him curiously.

"'S just to fill time," he explained, "-It's nothing serious. They're sure to find someone to fill in for me."

You flicker your eyes along his face, trying to read him. What's your prerogative?

After a moment, you come up with nothing and instead, just turn on your heel -leading the way to the cafeteria.

"I'm taking that as a yes, then?" Patrick called out from behind you, catching up and matching your stride with ease (despite you making no move to slow down).

You decidedly don't answer him, and say something focused elsewhere -eyeing him as you walk forward, "Do you always stalk people this much?"

Patrick laughed, catching your eye with his warm brown ones (they were almost sparkly under the sun of the day), "Only the ones that blindly hate me."

You pressed your lips together in a flat line (trying not to give anything away), "I didn't say that I hated you."

His face lit up at the words (and you couldn't decide if you regretted it or not), "Well, you could've convinced me."

You roll your eyes, and keep walking forward, "Not telling you my personal information isn't... hating you."

"I'm not sure not introducing yourself is exactly anything but hatred," he argued back, fluidly.

"I just told you that I don't hate you," you point out, "-so it isn't."

"Does that mean you'll eventually tell me your name?" Patrick asked, curiously.

You turned to him, flicked your eyes over him, and then looked forward again, "Maybe on good behavior."

He burst into laughter, brown eyes set on your face, "You're quite an enigma, you know that?"

"And you're not half the mystery you portray," you fire back, naturally, with the flow of the conversation.

He grinned at that, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite label, "You know, I don't think I've met a person like you. You're fearless in like a-" he motioned with his hands, "-casual way."

"I'm not fearless," you argue, approaching the door to the cafeteria, "-I'm just confident."

"Do they not go hand-in-hand?" Patrick offers, getting to the door before you and promptly holding it open for you -unflinchingly.

Something warm stirs in your stomach at the gesture (and his woodsy scent that brushes your nose as you walk past him), but you ignore it, "You can be certain and still be afraid."

"But knowing you're right doesn't necessarily mean-" Patrick followed you in, matching your stride again, as if it's natural, "-that you're confident."

You furrow your eyebrows, genuinely intrigued, "What do you mean?"

He paused, maybe a little shocked by your attentiveness, "Plenty of people know they're right and still concede to someone else because they don't want to fight it. You-" he pointed at you, "-will fight it."

"Well," you purse your lips, avoiding his eye contact, "-maybe I'm only like this with you."

"You," Patrick paused, "-You're not this fiery ball of rage with anyone else?"

You eye him for a second, before saying flatly, "Maybe."

"All of this seething hatred and impressive indifference just for me?" He grins, the big teeth-showing kind, "-I'm touched really. Because I am special to you in some weird kinda twisted way-"

Before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh at his words -just a quick one. Barely there.

But you could still see the delight smooth along his face, and just knew he caught it.

"How much of that have you been holding back?" He tilted his head curiously, before continuing to push it, smirking, "-Oh I bet you think I'm hilarious."

Your heart skipped a beat at the smirk, and you simply pressed your lips together and turned on your heel to the food counter. There wasn't even a second before you heard footsteps following you.

"You're not denying it, you know," he called after you, close on your tail.

You peer over the selection of food, eyeing the different items thoughtfully, "But I didn't confirm it either."

"Still not denying it," Patrick hummed, sing-songy.

"You know," you turn to him (mindlessly noting that he is very close), sharply, "-someone can have one good joke and still be unfunny."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes set on yours -challenging, "Then tell me why it came out like you were holding it back?"

You blinked at him, once and then twice, the sudden closeness sent a shock through your brain and the challenging tone of his voice nearly gave you full-body shivers. You can't find words to say, and you can nearly see it processing on Patrick's face (the way that he had made your mind melt for a moment), so you turn to the counter and point at something random for them to pick out for you.

The woman eyes the two of you suspiciously, but still diligently pulls out a to-go plate and piles the... mashed potatoes onto it.

"Oh my god," he finally says after a moment (you ignore it).

You go through a few other items, and the woman gathers them onto the plate. You pay, grab your plate-

"You like me," Patrick retorts, and you're not even looking at him but you can tell he's got a shit-eating grin.

Your brain malfunctions for a moment, but you step toward the tables and fire back (on autopilot), "I won't even tell you my name."

He's hot on your trail, following you diligently, "You're avoiding the question."

You spin to him, and reply -sharply, "You didn't ask a question."

His eyes flicker along your face, taking you in (you want to squirm but you steel yourself in place -your eyes now challenging), and then he grins so bright that you'd need sunglasses in any other scenario.

"Oh, you're really into me," he continues, low, gravelly, accented voice rumbling through your ears.

You screw up your face into something defiant, roll your eyes, and turn back to slide into a table. Patrick follows you like a lost puppy. Well, an incredibly arrogant lost puppy.

"You're still not denying it," he slides into the chair beside you and you hate the way your brain swims at the woodsy smell that brushes your nose.

"'Thought you were hungry," you say, simply (avoiding the question and decidedly not denying).

"It was very obviously a ploy," Patrick chimed back, with natural ease -tilting his head slightly and looking at you with twinkling eyes, "-They had pizza out there for all the players. I've already eaten."

Your fork froze for a millisecond (even still, you were sure he caught it), and after a moment, you pulled it to your lips. Maybe conquering both of your lack of response and the way your mind lit up at the idea of 'he just wanted to see me'.

His smile and eyes seemed to soften slightly, as he leaned his head down to catch your eye and guide it back up to your natural gaze (your heart skipped a beat). His brown eyes were soft and if you were honest, maybe a little affectionate.

"What's your name?" He finally said after a soft few moments.

And just like that, for you, the moment snapped, and you rolled your eyes -turning back to your food.

"Oh, come on," Patrick tried to catch your gaze again, "-Look, I'll tell you. Patrick Verona. That's my name-"

You bit down a smile, as he motioned to you with his hands.

"-Now, your turn, tell me yours."

You raised an eyebrow.

Patrick let out a half-laugh, before leaning forward slightly on the table -not quite a breath away, but certainly closer.

"You're so stubborn," he laughed, "-I'll beg. You want me to beg?"

You can't help but let the smile slip onto your lips then, "Why would you beg for my name?"

"Because I want it," he pointed out, still grinning "-Because I want to know you, and personally, I think it should start with a name."

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you let your fork hang there on the path to your face. You took a moment, scampered your eyes along his face (dark brown eyes so incredibly soft, curls coming down from where he put them up in individual tendrils). Your resolve was weakening, it was really and truly broken under Patrick Verona's hand.

Stupid pretty boys-

"Y/N," you said finally (quieter than intended), immediately pulling a bite to your mouth.

Patrick blinked, "What?"

"'S my name," you explain -shortly, moving a hand in front of your mouth as you chew, "-Y/N."

His eyes lit up at the words, that stupid charming grin smoothing onto his face as he repeated, softer than expected, "Y/N."

You shove down the fluster that begs to climb up your cheeks at his accented voice saying your name. It's something you'd never really thought about but now that it's said, you probably should've thought about it.

Patrick leaned back in his chair, eyes still set on you. He was still grinning, as he said simply, "Suits you."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He raises his hands in faux surrender, laughing to himself, "Jesus, you're a true ball of rage, you know 'at?"

"I'm not-" you huff out, and take a deep breath in, "-I'm not mad."

"Defensive then," he mends, "-You act as though I'm about to strike any minute."

You pursed your lips, "Whose to say you aren't?"

"Me," Patrick laughs, "-This entire conversation. The way I've acted around you since the beginning-"

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your lips, "-you were an asshole once."

He groaned, but something like amusement was twinkling in his eyes, "You are the most stubborn human being on this earth-"

"You took my spot," you interrupt, sturdy.

"-It's public property," Patrick argued back, "-and how was I supposed to know it was yours before I sat in it?"

You paused, for a moment, before saying, "You couldn't. But, you could have given it to me when I asked."

"And then we wouldn't be here," he explained, now fully grinning, "-and wouldn't that just be such a bore."

Your eyes swam over his face a moment, Patrick Verona. And his dumb persistence. And his stupid handsome face-

God.

You let out a long sigh, picking around at your food. Eyes watching the swirl of your fork, you debate a few different things to say. Finally, after a few spare seconds, you made up your mind.

"Yeah," you hum, flickering your eyes up to his, "-it would."

Patrick grinned, big and bright and twinkly (you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest). His eyes, the deep brown that if you weren't careful you could stare at for way too long, were soft but still sort of happy, eager. Definitely eager.

And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to-

"I told you I could work on the 'stranger' thing," he suddenly said, smirking, "-You never should've doubted me."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You said-" Patrick explained, "-you don't give your name out to strangers. And I said I could work on that part-"

You level a look at him.

"-And look, I did," he continued, before adding with a smirk, "-I have successfully escaped the cavernous barrier, deeper than the ocean I'd say, that walls you off from any poor soul who wishes to know you-"

"You're really pushing it, Verona," you chime back, fiery (but not quite all the way).

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, like he said nothing at all to warrant the reaction, "-You can't tell me that it's not like pulling teeth getting to know you. Or trying to anyway-"

You press your lips onto a flat line, "Wow, you must be a sort of masochist, then?

He faltered for a second, before laughing a little, "Oh absolutely, I chase the high of you ignoring me for 2 hours straight every day."

You rolled your eyes, biting down a smile, "I despise you."

"Better that than indifferent," he responded with ease, "-I prefer you feeling something rather than nothing at all."

"Oh my god-"

It continued like that, a back and forth, as you finish eating your mediocre cafeteria lunch. The silence is sparse but not uncomfortable when Patrick isn't running his mouth, that is. It was nice. Insanely nice. You'd probably never had as much fun on this campus as you did with him, just in general, but...

"Same time Wednesday?" He poses with a cheeky grin, leaning onto one hand against the table -closer to you than before.

You felt something warm swirl into your stomach, as your eyes flickered over his face. He was still smiling, like he wasn't able to stop when he was here with you. And something in you never wanted to see it go away anyway.

So, with a slight head tilt and a brighter grin than what you'd let slip past all day, you repeated.

"Same time Wednesday."

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch7

Next chapter baby! @smoothdogsgirl Warnings: Mentions of Death, Scene with a gun, Stalker, Stalker Behavior, Abusive Behavior and mentions of pregnancy

The squad was gone longer than a month, but you received word from Penny they would be coming in on Saturday. You only had four days until you could see the squad again, and you spent those four days making sure the apartments were spotless in between going to work and sleeping. Friday night you sat on Jake’s couch watching a movie when there was a knock at the door. You walked to the door and looked out the peephole, but didn’t see anyone so you opened the door. 

You looked around not seeing anybody there, but down on the ground was a picture laying face down with writing on the back of it. ‘YOU LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL. YOU NEVER WORE ANYTHING LIKE THIS FOR ME, BUT YOU WILL WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!’ it read, and when you flipped it over it was a copy of the photo you had sent to Jake. You slammed the door and started to panic. How the fuck did he find you so quick. You should call the police, but that would mean handing over that photo.

You were torn and didn’t know what to do so you triple checked that the door was locked and crawled into Jake’s bed. You pulled his pillow to your chest and sobbed into it wishing he were here with you. You fell asleep like that and when you woke up you got dressed for the day. You went about your day like normal and then to work. “(Y/N) are you okay you seem out of it”, she said. “Yeah I’m okay just missing the squad”, you replied. “They’ll be back before you know it”, she tells you.

The next couple of days you are on edge constantly watching your surroundings. Any car that follows behind a little too long has you paranoid. At the grocery store while checking out constantly looking to see if you spot your ex. You continue trying to figure out how he found you, but no matter how many times you think about it you hit dead end after dead end. Then you think about who would have known you had come out this way.

The only person you knew was your brother as you had told him you were leaving. If he had threatened your brother's kids which he had done before your brother probably told him anything he wanted to know. You didn’t blame him, you would do anything to keep your niece and nephews safe. He was just doing this to get back at you for leaving him. He didn’t have power over you anymore and damn it if you were going to let him take your happiness. 

After Friday night's shift at the Hard Deck you grabbed your pouch from the front seat of your truck and walked into Jake’s apartment. A knock on the door and you opened it and there stood your ex. “Get back in your car and get the fuck out of here Jackson”, you seethed. “(Y/N) I just want you to come home with me. We were gonna’ get married”, he said. “I told you it wasn’t going to work. I’m not going home with you”, you hiss.

He grabbed the door as you went to shut it in his face. “I’m serious (Y/N) you’re coming back home with me”, he growled. “No I’m not, I have a boyfriend and I am happy here now get out of here!”, you yelled. “Listen here you ungrateful bitch”, he started. You reached for your pouch that you hung up by the door and brandished the .40 caliber sig in his face. “I told you no and I meant it Jackson, and if you ever threaten my brother's family again I’ll make sure you stay gone”, you declare. 

His eyes go wide, but he can tell you mean it and he lingers a moment longer. “FINE!”, he shouts. You watch as he high tails it to his car and peels out of the parking lot. You close the door locking it then sink to the floor as you try to catch your breath. You had hoped you never had to ever point a gun at someone, but you knew what Jackson was capable of and you weren’t going through that again.

You couldn’t sleep and you had to pick Jake up anyway so you sat watching tv and started a pot of coffee. Penny had told you when they should get in so you left the apartment at nine in the morning to get there by nine thirty. You parked in the spot where you had dropped Jake off and waited for what felt like forever when you saw Phoenix and Bob come out to the lot. You waved them down and they came over each giving you a hug. 

“Where is Bradley and Jake?”, you panic. “They are being assessed, it will probably be a few more hours”, Bob explains. “What do you mean assessed are they injured what happened?”, you asked. “We lost Banshee and Fluke”, Phoenix whispered. You were glad to hear they were okay, but saddened to know that they had lost two men. “I’m so sorry”, you whisper. “Are you all okay?”, you ask. “Yeah just like with anything it will take time, but Jake seems to have taken the blame for what happened”, Bob said.

“What do you mean?”, you inquired. They explained what had happened, how Banshee and Fluke were killed, and that Jake had been their wingman. You thanked them for telling you then after a while you let them go so they could go home to decompress and unpack. It was two hours later when Bradley emerged and you ran to him and hugged him. You could tell he was wearing the guilt of what happened and reassured him he had done all he could, but when Jake stepped out two minutes later your heart broke.

Jake had dark circles under his eyes and looked exhausted. Bradley waved you on as he left to go back to the apartment. You approached him like you would a wounded animal slowly and quietly other than your boots clacking on the pavement. “Jake”, you gently called. He looked up as you came to stop in front of him. He took you in to make sure this moment was real as you tilted your head at him. “Let's go home”, you whispered. He didn’t say anything as you took his bag from him and walked to your truck. 

“Do you want anything to eat?”, you asked. He only shook his head no as you drove back to the apartment. You grabbed his bag and headed up to the apartment as he walked behind you seeming to still be in a daze. When you got him into the apartment you sat his bag down and kissed his cheek then led him to the bedroom where you grabbed sweatpants and a shirt for him to change into and left to fix breakfast. He changed then joined you in the kitchen where he pulled you into his arms. You let him hold you for as long as he wanted.

“I’m sorry about Banshee and Fluke”, you whispered to him. “It was my fault they died”, he breathed. You pulled back and looked up at him as you took his face in your hands. “No, don't ever think that Jake. Baby none of what happened was your fault. Bradley told me what happened and there was nothing either of you could do”, you soothed. His eyes were shining with unshed tears, but he was willing himself not to cry in front of you.

He releases you so you can finish fixing food and he did eat a little, but you assumed he wouldn’t eat a whole lot after what he had been through. “When was the last time you got any sleep?”, you ask. “What day is it?”, he questions. That’s all you need to hear as you go to lead him to the bedroom. “No I’d rather watch TV”, he tells you. You relent but go and grab a blanket from his room as you sit down on the couch. 

You coax him into laying down on the couch with his head in your lap. You run your fingers through his hair as you put a comedy movie on. You continue to glance at him every so often and a third of the way through the movie he is asleep. He wakes up periodically, but you both don’t really move from the couch until dinner time rolls around. You get up to make dinner and this time he eats all of it. He seems to be settling and that makes you feel better as he tells you he is going to go shower. 

You clean the kitchen then pop next door to check on Bradley. He seems to be faring better than Jake, but you can tell he isn’t a hundred percent okay. “Are you going to be okay?”, you ask him. “Yeah Lilly is coming over to stay the night”, he tells you. “So what exactly are you two?”, you inquire. “Well I’m not dating her if that’s what you're asking” , he tells you. “I swear you give Jake shit, but you're just the same way apparently”, you laugh.

“I’m going to stay at Jake’s for quite a while. I came to grab some of my stuff”, you tell him. “That’s fine we were all given four weeks leave and Lilly is gonna be crashing here”, he explains. Jake hadn’t told you they were on leave, but with the events you figured it would be for the best. When you made it back to Jake’s he was still in the shower so you decided to slip in with him. He was leaning against the wall letting the water fall over him. You gently called to him and he acknowledged your presence, but you jumped when you felt how cold the water was. 

You reached for the knob and turned it to where the water was comfortable. Then you turned him to face you. “I’m here for you Jake”, you explain. He smiles weakly at you, but he leans down to steal some kisses from you. You both help wash each other and by the time you finish up it’s around eight at night. He follows you to bed and he pulls you into his side as he relaxes for bed. Sleep doesn’t take long to find either of you, but it doesn’t last long. 

You wake to find the bed empty and it’s late judging by how quiet it is. You get up and go into the kitchen where you see a figure sitting with their back against the fridge. When you flip the light on Jake is sitting there his chest heaving and you see the tears streaming down his face. You waste no time in kneeling beside him and pulling him into you. He automatically buries his head where your shoulder and neck meet and his hands grab fistfulls of your shirt. 

“It’s okay Jake, I’m here”, you soothe, holding the back of his head with one hand while the other rubs his back.“I’m sorry I shouldn’t be crying”, he says. “No Jake it’s okay to cry for the ones we have lost. It’s part of grieving and yes, real men cry. I won’t think any less of you baby I promise”, you whisper into his hair. You stay there letting him cry until the tears slow. “It’s the first time I’ve lost a wingman”, he whispers. “I remember when my dad lost his first wingman. He was devastated, but he learned that if you flew long enough it was bound to happen”, you tell him.

“What matters is you did all you could and I bet that Banshee and Fluke wouldn’t want you to be upset with yourself for it. You know the risks of flying right?”, you asked. “Yeah it’s never guaranteed you will make it back”, he says. “Exactly and they accepted that risk same as you do. They loved flying as much as you or any other pilot does. Remember them that way instead of how they died”, you told him. It seemed to help him as you asked if he wanted to go back to bed. 

This time you pull him into your side and he lays his head on your chest. You run your fingers through his hair until his breaths even out. You follow soon after and this time you both sleep through the night. The next couple of days Jake seems to be doing better as he goes in for evaluations at the base. He tells you that they deemed him ready to return after the four week leave was up. “Darlin’ do you think Penny would give you a couple weeks off?”, Jake asks out of the blue one morning. 

“I don’t know depends on what it’s for”, you reply. “I told my sister and her husband about my leave and they invited me to come stay at their ranch for a couple of weeks”, he explains. “What are you saying?”, you ask. “I want you to come with me”, he blurts out. You sit there in stunned silence for a minute before saying, “I don’t know if your sister will want a stranger staying in her house”. “Well technically it would be their guest house and I already asked her if I could bring you along which she said yes to”, he smiles devilishly.

You stare at him incredulously as he pops a cherry into his mouth from where you were making a cherry pie. “I guess I could call and ask Penny. What day were you thinking about packing the truck up and leaving?”, you ask. “Truck? Oh no darlin’ I already got the plane tickets” he boasted. “Jake what if Penny says no!”, you exclaim. “Won’t know till you ask her”, Jake laughs. “What day would we leave and when would we be coming back?”, you ask, pulling out your phone. 

He tells you the dates and you call Penny right away because it’s two days away. Penny doesn’t seem bothered by it and pretty much tells you to go and keep Jake out of trouble. You swear that Jake had already somehow told Penny his plan, but how he got her to agree to it you have no idea. The two days flew by and you had packed a suitcase full of clothes to where it looked like if it were opened it would explode. 

You’re nervous because you had never flown commercially on a plane. Every time your family moved it was always a moving truck and the old van. Jake took your hand when you started to fidget at the gate for boarding. “Why do the movies always make this part look so easy”, you state. “Well that’s because it’s a movie darlin’ and it doesn’t work that way in the real world”, he chuckles. He is loving watching you try to school your nervousness. “Why are you so nervous? You weren’t nervous when I took you up in Mav’s plane”, he states. “Because you were the one flying and I trust you”, you reply.

You watch as his smile widens and you know you just fed into his ego. “I’m glad you trust me so much”, he tells you as he places a kiss to the top of your head. Once boarded you make it to your seat and realize you have the window seat. You sit down and strap in as Jake takes his time. He buckles in once he is comfortable then leans back in the seat waiting for the rest of the passengers to get seated. 

Once the plane is ready they start taxiing to the runway and Jake can’t help but notice you bouncing your leg. He takes your hand in his again and grabs your attention. “Just keep your eyes on me”, he tells you. You do but it still doesn’t help and he seems to notice this. “When we get there do you want to go to one of the rodeos? I looked up the dates and I found one we could go to”, he tells you.

“Yeah I’d like that”, you tell him as the plane picks up speed. When the wheels leave the ground and the weightless feeling you get makes your stomach roll you grip Jake's hand tighter. He winces but you start to relax when the plane reaches optimal altitude and levels out. After that Jake notices you watching the landscape and how it changes. “How long is this flight?”, you ask. “Around three hours”, he responds. You end up reading your book you brought with you and Jake can’t help but notice the cover and title. 

Ideas start popping into his head at the shirtless cowboy on the front holding a saddle and rope. When you put your book down Jake leans over and kisses your cheek. “I’m glad you decided to come with me”, he tells you. “Like you gave me a choice, but I’m glad I get to see the state you grew up in”, you tell him. When the plane lands in Austin, Texas you immediately want to get to the ranch. “How far from here is the ranch?”, you ask. “Well it’s about two hours away”, he states. 

Once you pick up your bags Jake takes you in search of his brother in law. He isn’t hard to spot as you take in his tall and broad stature. He makes Jake look small in comparison, but you soon learn he is very sweet as he introduces himself as Colton. He takes your suitcase from you and carries it all the way to the truck and on the ride to the ranch you let Jake and him catch up. The landscape is so different from what you were used to back home, but you enjoyed it and couldn’t wait to see what a ranch in Texas was like.

When you pull up to the ranch your eyes go wide as you realize how large this ranch truly is. You could ride in any direction for what seemed like as far as the eye could see. Jake turned to look at the wonder on your face and smiled. “I bet you ain’t seen nothin’ like this back home huh”, Colton said. “No we had cattle and things like that, but nothing on this scale”, you replied.

“Question is, do you think you could live here on a ranch like this?”, Colton asked. Jake’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t say anything as you pondered the question. “Yeah for the right person I could and hell I’m sure a couple of kids wouldn’t hurt either”, you responded. Colton gave Jake a smug look, but Jake just rolled his eyes. When you all pulled up to the guest house it was beautiful. It had a wrap around porch with a swing with beautiful big windows. Colton helped you both into the house and handed Jake the keys. 

“Supper is in another hour and Evelynn is making your favorite steak. The guest truck is out back and the keys are hanging up by the back door”, Colton told Jake. “We’ll be sure to make it in time”, Jake replied. Colton took his leave and headed home while you marveled at the inside of the house. It was a cowgirls wet dream here and now you were hooked. Jake smiled as you took in your surroundings, but had to cut it short so you both could unpack.

There was no time to rest after you unpacked as you and Jake got into the guest truck to head to the main house. It was a fifteen minute ride but when you arrived you swore you were in heaven. There was an A-frame ranch house and it was absolutely gorgeous. “Holy shit your sister and her husband live here”, you gasped. “Yeah for the past ten years with their two kids”, Jake responds.

As soon as you both get out of the truck a little girl comes running. “UNCLE JAKE!”, she yells. “Annabelle”, Jake says. She jumps into his arms as he spins her around. Then like a flash of lightning a second kid much smaller collides with his leg. “Unc Jake”, the second child says. “Hey Georgia”, Jake responds. He places the older girl in one arm and picks the youngest up in the other. “Who’s that?”, Annabelle asks. The younger girl cocks her head at you and smiles. 

“This is my girlfriend (Y/N)”, Jake says. You introduce yourself and the youngest who looks to be about four reaches for you. Jake looks at you not sure if you want to hold Georgia, but you take her in your arms right away as she giggles. “It’s very nice to meet you Annabelle and Georgia”, you say. “DINNERS READY GIRLS AND YOUR UNCLE JAKE BETTER BE HERE”, someone who you guess is Evelynn calls out. “That’s our que”, Jake says as he takes your hand leading you into the house and to the dining room. 

“Oh well I see you have met my children and you already met my husband. I’m Evelynn”, a woman says as she places dishes down on the table. When you look at her you definitely see the family resemblance and as your gaze travels lower you notice she is heavily pregnant. “Nice to meet you I’m (Y/N)”, you reply. You sit down as they say grace then start to eat as Jake talks with his sister. “So you never did tell me if you're having a boy or girl”, Jake says. “Well you're getting a nephew this time”, Evelynn replied.

“I knew it”, Jake boasted. Colton talked about how he was excited to show him all the ropes and how to play football. The rest of the night went like that as they asked you about your family and you told them everything. By the end of dinner Colton made mention to his wife that Jake and you were technically here on vacation and that she could talk to you all tomorrow. She sent you back to the guest house with homemade apple pie that was to die for. The day was catching up to both of you as you got into bed. Jake pulled you back against his chest making you the little spoon as you both fell asleep.

[mayxo-hxh]

Hi, I love your take on Hisoka, it's made me view him in a different light. I was wondering what ur take on illumi is? Do you have any headcanons for him? I saw ur post on Hisoka being shy, do u think Illumi is the same? (If u have any hisoillu headcanons too I'd love to hear them) :D

Hello!! Im really happy to hear that :)

I have LOOOTS of hcs for the both of them!! Ive been fixated on these two for four whole years i genuinely have too much to mention in one post lol so if you have any specific questions about specific hcs, do tell me!! Its a bit difficult to answer very broad questions like this bcs i dont know where to begin haha;;

I can very confidently say though, Illumi is absolutely nowhere near shy. At least-- not by the definition. In my eyes, Illumi is a very blunt and straightforward person with no social filter. I do like to think when it comes to hisoillu in general Illumi gets flustered here and there when dealing with his husband like any normal human in love is to be. But when it comes to being an actual shy introvert like hisoka-- absolutely not. You can tell the difference between how Illumi deals with people vs Hisoka. Hisoka is like the textbook definition of an introvert-- someone who constantly avoids people unless he wants to be the center of attention (mainly negative attention so it keeps people away anyways)

General hisoillu hcs would be... I like to humanize them. I like giving Illumi moles, stretch marks and arthritis from his transformation and eyebags from the amount of times he stays up for his missions. Also scars from his training that are faded. For hobbies I like to think hes extremely interested in learning. Just learning. Whatever hes learning doesnt matter, but knowledge is a very prominent fact about him and the zoldycks in general. So while I hc hes extensively knowledgable about anatomy and the economic and political states of the world (those pretty much canon tho lol) and the world in general, I like to always write him extending his knowledge in fics like learning a new language in his spare time or reading books in general. I could expand much more on hobbies including people watching and hanging out with his siblings but i feel like if there is a tumblr word limit i would 1000% exceed it lol.

I like to give Hisoka freckles on his tan skin (in the manga his skin is quite tan) that he hides and many more scars that are also hidden like he'd hide his arm scars after machi healed them. also the one time togashi drew him with hip dips. I liked that! I like to give him a human backstory like initially having a family that he either abandoned or was abandoned by to go on his own journey (not necessarily tragic, though i do not think tragic backstories take away from a character no matter how evil tbh. If anything, I strongly believe that babies are blank slates when it comes to morals until theyre taught otherwise by their environment.) And positive hobbies like cooking for himself because he only ever relies on himself and doesnt trust anybody else, which also goes with the hc of him not being a fan of taking any medication so hes a "tough it out" girlie. which also consequently affects other hcs like my trans hisoka hc and him not getting top surgery until after he married illumi because he does not trust a mf to put him under during it but he does trust illumi-- ITS A LOOONG STORY

I also like to consider their reoccurring personality traits as symptoms for neurodivergence. Like Illumi's bluntness and overly honest personality being autism and his highly emotional sides to him being BPD (i do have a thread on that!) and for Hisoka his hyperactivity and addiction for stimulating fights as ADHD (the adhd video i made abt him covers some of it lol) and you could argue a personality disorder for him as well to match with his hubby.

Also the queer hcs like i mentioned, transmasc genderfluid hisoka that doesnt mind all pronouns that i also hc as demiaroace and pansexual/bisexual while for Illumi I hc him as gay demiaroace agender, etc. These help a lot in figuring out their identities too.

Stuff like that are just the "layouts" for them in my brain that help me immensely when writing fics for them. You have to know everything extensively for the actions that they make to come naturally so when you throw them in a situation, you immediately know how they'd react (ex: sick hisoka would refuse to take meds, or more specifically like in my fic tolerate me darling hisoka was cramping and refused to take pain meds for it so illumi had to use his pins etc etc)

Those are pretty much the surface hcs i have for them that I always consider when it comes to any scenario or extra hc or fic/art or anything. For anything very specific, you'd have to ask about it for my brain to remember ehehe ^^

[lazyfandombean]

Psst, you!

Hey, hey you! Yeah, you! I've got a question for ya. Do you feel normal about SCC (Sweet Cap'n Cakes)?

-> Yes -> No

[❤️Yes] [Ohhhh, I see. You're in denial, aren't you? ;)]

[❤️No] [Aha! Just as I projected- I mean suspected! Suspected. Yeah.]

Well, I've got some GREAT news for you! Have you ever felt saddened by the lack of SCC-centric fanfiction? Specifically the kind that depicts them as brothers instead of bandmates or partners (no shade to those depictions btw)?

No? Shut up yes you have /j

Yes? Fantastic! Well, no, sorry that you're sad :/ BUT! Be sad no longer! For I've come to save the day!

In the form of my newfound SCC hyperfixation!!!

That's right!! I've been going crazy about The Guys™️ for the past week or so, but to my absolute SHOCK, there are hardly ANY fanfics for them!!! And almost all them revolve around them as a SHIP! And no offense, but I just don't like reading about ships all that much, sorry!!! :(

SO!!! How am I going to fix this dilemma, I wondered? But THEN! I remembered something!! Something very, VERY important:

'Oh yeah I'm a fanfic author.'

Is this me implying that I'm now writing a bunch of SCC fanfiction in a very roundabout way? YES YES IT IS! :D

In fact, I've already posted one on Ao3 and have turned it into a 'series'! By that I just mean that the 'series' is really just a place for me to dump all of my SCC-centric fics. I'll link the series here, BUT I'll also be cross-posting most, if not all, of those fics from Ao3 to here on Tumblr!

Oh also link btw:

But why am I talking about it like this on Tumblr, you ask? Introducing it in such a way when I could have just started posting SCC content? For two reasons!

One: Idk I just felt like it

Two: Because!! It has come to my attention that hardly anybody on Ao3 even reads SCC fanfiction.

And no, this isn't me begging for like... kudos or subscriptions (or followers, I guess it is on Tumblr? Idk I don't use it much) or anything like that. What I AM asking for is for people to read it. Not because I want to get popular, but because...

I am very self-conscious about the way I write SCC.

Well, to be honest I'm just self-conscious about the way I write any fictional character. It's actually the thing I worry about the most when it comes to fanfiction; whether or not I'm getting the personalities right. And I'm aware that it's more about how you perceive the characters, and that headcanons are a thing (I have plenty of them myself), but in my opinion, there's a line between having a headcanon and writing something ooc. Headcanons are fine, yes, and I use them a lot (especially when it comes to Undertale and Deltarune characters), but I feel like it can get to the point where it's so ooc that it doesn't even feel like the same character. And that's something I definitely don't want to happen when I write about my three favorite guys EVER. So basically, I'm asking people to read my fics specifically so I can get feedback on how to write the characters.

Why didn't I ask my friends? Bold of you to assume I have any /hj

But no fr, none of my friends play Deltarune, and I'm not even sure if any of them have heard of it. My sister has played before, but she never really got into it, and it's been so long that I doubt she would even remember who SCC are if I asked.

So, I've taken it to random strangers on Tumblr!

There's only one work in the series right now, but I'm currently working on another and have many more ideas sitting in a doc, waiting to be written! I'll also take requests if anyone has any (which I doubt will happen but anything's possible I guess), but before I post any more, I'd really like to get some feedback from... someone, I guess. I dunno I just really want to do them justice 😭

Anyways, that's all! Sorry that this was so long and probably annoying to read, I just thought it'd be funny but now I don't even know aldkdsfljk- but I'm leaving it like this because why not I guess

[perpetualcynicism]

𝚃𝚘 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚜𝚝 𝙰 𝚂𝚎𝚊 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 — 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚂𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎 #𝟺: ‘𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚍’ 𝙰𝚄 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝 — 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝚊𝚢.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Unrequited love, among other things. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: None. 𝙻𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑: 1,996 words. 𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: This scene is part of an abandoned Little Mermaid AU which I was going to write. The necessary context is as follows: Aphros is the mermaid who, not in their right mind following Havria’s untimely death, makes an unthinking deal to become human and pursue Xiao, whom they rescued a few months earlier. The witch takes Aphros’ ability to use their hands instead of their voice (since Aphros doesn’t speak anyway, and their hands are far more valuable to them as means of communication as well as artistic expression), and gives them six days to win Xiao’s heart. (If anybody’s interested in hearing more about this AU, feel free to ask me!) This is an extra scene from the fic ‘To Dance Amidst A Sea Of Flowers’ — read the whole thing here if you’re interested.

It was always by the sea that Aphros could collect their thoughts best. Even if they were no longer its resident, the heavy hush of curling waves and the scent of saltwater drew them to the ocean like they had never left; a welcome, soothing touch after a day drawn long with hopelessness. On land they felt an outsider, isolated with no means to make themselves seem or understood, walking on unsteady legs towards a future which to everybody else was a well-trodden path. In the ocean, Aphros had been loved, heard, and content: now they were lost, and lonely, and felt smaller than ever before.

They approached the shore long after sunset with the intention of clearing their mind and reconciling the growing dread which surfaced each time they remembered their deal. If they were lucky, they could come up with a plan. After all, only five days remained, now. 

But, as they took a first step onto the sand, it came as a surprise to Aphros to find the beach already occupied. Sitting alone by the shore was Xiao, unaccompanied by guards, silently watching the horizon. His shoulders were slumped, not held high and stiff like they had been previously. Aphros was shocked by how normal he looked: like a person, not a prince. Against the silver light of the moon, his silhouette was dark, and cast a long shadow across the pale sand. 

If this encounter had happened early in the day, Aphros would have immediately seized the opportunity to walk to him and prove themselves. But it was late, and they were tired, and the fairytale of falling in love with a prince felt merely that, and nothing more. 

They took another step along the beach. They were here for the ocean, not for him, and his presence wouldn’t hinder them. Xiao must have noticed their approach, because he glanced over his shoulder, briefly making eye contact with them. No hearts fluttered, and no sparks flew. He looked back to the horizon a moment later.

Aphros continued towards the shore until they were in line with him, at which point they sat down on the sand, some paces away. If Xiao disliked their presence, he made no indication of it. Aphros, too, turned their eyes to the horizon, and simply stared. It was odd to think that only a day ago, they had lived in this very same ocean, and from inside it had looked up at the very same stars, only now the sea felt as far away from them as the stars did. 

For a long time, there was only silence and the sigh of waves against the sand.

“A few months ago, somebody saved my life here.”

Surprised, Aphros turned their head to look at Xiao. He stared out at the horizon, not meeting their eye. His face was bathed in shadows, yet he looked much younger; like he was their age, not some young boy forced into maturity. (He looked younger, and much more tired.)

The prince’s eyes flicked in their direction. “What is your reason for coming here?” There was a brief beat of silence. Xiao shook his head and scoffed. “Of course. You can’t answer.”

Aphros was by now used to such disdain, and bore it with weary acceptance. By way of reply, they merely tilted their head towards him in what they hoped could be read as a return of the question. It was a moment before Xiao replied.

“I have nightmares sometimes,” the prince admitted with a sigh. “Of my time on the battlefield. I struggle to sleep afterwards, so I come here to clear my mind.” He chewed on his lip—an action Aphros wouldn’t have expected from a stern military general as much as a hesitant child. 

The next moment, he asked quietly, “May I… speak of them to you?”

The question shocked Aphros into staring. Something in Xiao’s expression seemed to fall, and he cast his eyes downwards. Hastily, Aphros composed themselves and nodded. With their affirmation made, Xiao spoke to them a little about his nightmares: things about his fallen comrades, about his guilt, about his regret.

Once he finished, he admitted, “I have not told anybody about that before. Not even my attendants. I suppose it is pleasant that you can only listen, without the danger of you relating my words to somebody else.” 

The comment may have stung if Aphros weren’t so tired. They only felt a distant prick of disappointment in its place. Yet any reaction of theirs seemed to go unnoticed by Xiao, who continued by saying, “I would inquire more about you in return, but you cannot reply.” Once again, Aphros bore with patience the disregard which they had recently become acquainted with by releasing a sigh.

Aphros mulled over his words, wishing they could express anything at all of their own thoughts. If only they were able to communicate with neither speech nor signing.

An idea sprang to their mind. Aphros looked pointedly at Xiao, raising their hand slightly to catch his attention. Once certain he was focused on them, Aphros performed the act of nodding once, then shaking their head. 

“You wish me to ask you ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions?”

Aphros nodded. Perhaps this was finally an opportunity to establish a connection with him. 

Xiao was silent a moment longer before asking, “Were you born like this?” 

Briefly confused whether he referred to their inability to communicate or their adoption of a human form, Aphros hesitated, then shook their head. The reply would be the same for either; but they expected he had the former topic in mind, for he had no way of knowing about the latter.

“Hm. Could you ever speak?”

They shook their head again.

“But… you could communicate in the past?” 

This reply appeared to intrigue Xiao.

“By… signing?”

Another nod.

“Did you have an accident of some sort, which affected your ability to use your hands?”

A shake of the head. He frowned.

“So how did this happen?” Aphros raised an eyebrow at him. Xiao realised his mistake. “No, you can’t answer that.” He clicked his tongue, reconsidering. “Did somebody else do this to you?”

Aphros nodded. Xiao considered this.

“Do you know who?”

They nodded again. A flicker of hope sparked to life inside their chest. 

“Are you aware of how to… retrieve your ability to use your hands?” 

Another nod.

“Can you do so?”

Aphros hesitated, then shook their head. Xiao’s brow rose.

“So… you know how to solve your problem, but don’t know if you can do so?”

They nodded. He pursed his lips.

“And I suppose you cannot tell anyone how yourself, given the current circumstances.” 

Aphros was on the edge of nodding again before they paused. Perhaps he was wrong; perhaps there was a way of communicating their situation beyond this crude method. They walked to the ocean’s edge. Xiao’s eyes followed them, his expression one of mild confusion. Aphros stared down at the little lining of white foam forming on top of each wave’s crest. 

To their knowledge, it was only their physical body which had changed: the contract had mentioned nothing of abilities, or at least not of the mystical sort. Which meant that, if they were correct…

Aphros took a deep breath and ran their numbed fingers along the sea’s surface. Feeling nothing, they remembered that their hand was only being limply dragged by their wrist through the water; they wouldn’t be able to use their hands to dictate a message in the foam.

There was another way to do this, they recalled, but one they hadn’t used in a very long time. One which they may not still be able to do. One which required the perfect balance of focus, serenity, intent, and skill, and which required nothing but their own mind. 

Aphros took a deep breath and closed their eyes to focus on the water around them. The little waves drawing forwards and backwards over the sand. The tides further out in the bay, pushing and pulling to the call of the moon. The depths where no sunlight could ever reach and no being would ever venture, right up to the fine white bubbles swirling across the delicate surface of this dark, terrifying, beautiful expanse.

They seized the image of the foam in their mind’s eye and took a breath. Perhaps there was a chance that if they were very, very focused and very, very lucky… 

When they opened their eyes, the characters written in foam on the sea’s surface read ‘magic’.

The next moment Aphros’ legs buckled beneath them. They steadied themselves, but it took great effort to keep themselves from falling to the floor. Meanwhile, still sitting on the sand, Xiao looked unconvinced and tilted his head.

“Magic? Truly?” 

They nodded. Xiao narrowed his eyes in thought. Considering they had just shaped seafoam into words according to their will, the prince finally decided to entertain the notion.

“Is this some sort of spell, then? Or a curse?”

Aphros nodded. They could almost see the gears turning in Xiao’s head as pieces fell into place.

“And this… curse was cast by the one who took away your ability to use your hands?”

They nodded again. He frowned. 

“But if you know all of this, why can‘t you break it?”

Aphros flushed with embarrassment and gestured hesitantly in his direction. His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced behind him, over his shoulder. Seeing nothing, he turned back to them and signalled at himself. Aphros nodded. 

“…Something to do with myself? I don’t understand. How do I come into this?”

Aphros cleared their throat. At once the concept of romance wasn’t so enticing as it was unbearably awkward and humiliating. They raised their wrist to their lips, struggling to meet his eye. 

Xiao’s eyes widened with realisation. His expression shifted from shocked to embarrassed to affronted all within the length of one second. Aphros watched the whole process with an inwards wince.

“So…” Xiao rubbed his brow. “This spell requires me to… kiss you, in order to break it. Which I take means you have feelings for me.”

Aphros nodded, unable to look at him lest they cripple with shame. However, they could not resist shooting a hopeful glance in his direction.

Xiao pursed his lips. “Is there any time limit for lifting this spell?”

In the foam, Aphros wrote, Six.

The prince looked away with a sigh. “In that case, I apologise. I do not return the feelings you have for me.” Aphros had anticipated the reply, but the anticipation did little to soften the statement. “Neither do I believe I could fall in love with you in only six days, even if I wished to. Furthermore, I do not want to play with your emotions and pretend to love you when I don’t.”

Aphros lowered their head in understanding.

“Are there any alternative solutions?” he suggested. Aphros shook their head. He sighed. “I am sorry, then. Perhaps… perhaps you should have been more careful in allowing yourself to be cursed this way.”

Ashamed, Aphros averted their eyes. There was silence. The two sat together, a few paces apart, and watched the sea. 

They did not expect Xiao to speak again—yet he mused, a little while later, half to himself, “So you have had every means of communication stripped from you, and you are overlooked by everyone at the palace. That… must be incredibly frustrating.” Aphros hesitated, then nodded. He grunted. “Yet you have not lost your temper. That is commendable. I myself would be furious if such a thing happened to me.”

Their lips twitched in a half-smile. In the foam, they replied simply, I am used to it. Xiao looked away. 

“Oh.” 

Then, “What’s your name?”

Aphros, they wrote. Xiao read over the name before it dissolved into formless foam and said no more. They sat on the beach until the sun rose, then went their separate ways.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Don't You Forget About Me

Part One

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Description: Sometimes the most unlikely encounters with people have an immeasurable effect on your life. For Bradley Bradshaw, life at 22 right after graduating from college is far different than he ever thought it would be. It kind of seems like his whole life hasn't gone according to plan. No parents, no support system, just one man and his dad's old Bronco against the world. A chance meeting with a blond-haired teenage menace in Texas may just change everything, shaping his future in a way he never would have expected. Disclaimer: This is a Hangster story -> What you see is what you get, folks. Slight mention of homophobic/ lgbtq+ phobic family members. Word Count: 3624 Author's Note: Hiya! I wrote this fic for @roosterforme's Top Gun Rocktober Event based on the song Don't You Forget About Me by the Simple Minds. Everything about it just screamed Hangster when I listened to it again. As anybody who knows me or has read my works can surmise... I can be quite long-winded so what was supposed to be a quick blurb turned into a short two-part series. I hope you all love this fic! (Also I'm self conscious about this one because I do not write in first person. It's surprisingly hard so I'd love any feedback if you've got it!)

It's dark and smoky and loud in here and I can't believe that I let Jessica and David drag me to this party. They've long since disappeared into the crush and left me on the under-stuffed chintz armchair in some frat house’s living room. It doesn't help that I haven't been to Texas in years and I feel even more like I’m out of my depths because of it. My mom grew up here, and most of her family is still here. But she's not. In the years since I graduated from high school, I've turned hundreds of times, looking for her sweet smile, searching for her to take solace in. But she's not exactly on this mortal plane anymore. Neither of my parents are. And the closest thing I've ever had to a dad fucked off after destroying my dreams.

It fills me with an unreasonable rage every time I think about it. I know Virginia, I've lived in Virginia for years, putting myself through school in Charlottesville while working single-mindedly to get into the US Navy. I’m so close to flight school that I can taste it. I just need to get through Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island now that I’ve graduated. One final summer of building my savings by working odd jobs and I’d be free. Or so I thought.

Then, I received a notice telling me my apartment building needed to be tented for termites. My lease was only valid until I left for OCS, anyway. I debated living out of my dad's car, now mine, until I had to be in Rhode Island. That’s when I received a letter from Stephanie Williams, my mom’s cousin, inviting me to spend the summer in Texas. Driving to Texas is far from convenient, but I haven't spent any time around my family, no matter how distant they may be, in so long. And, I’m kind of homesick - homesick for the sense of camaraderie, of walking into the house after baseball practice or school and hearing anyone in the house besides myself.

Jessica and David, Stephanie’s kids, are as nice as their mom. They both attend the University of Texas, but it still feels like there is a distance between us. They can't understand the drive burning in me about the Navy, how I need to do well at OCS, how I need to become an aviator, how I need to be better than anyone else. Aunt Steph doesn't really get it either if the way she practically pushed me out the door when Jess and David mentioned the party is any indication.

It doesn't help that I'm only a week from reporting to OCS, either. I know it’s not flight school, not yet, but I know I need to study more than I need to be in this stupid little ramshackle frat house on Greek Row. The beer’s watered down and warm, tasting like piss in my mouth. Normally, I’d be right in the center of the makeshift dance floor grinding up against the scantily clad girls in sight, most of them wearing bikinis, but not tonight. 

I just want to go home again, but that’s not possible. It hasn't been for years. I leave the mostly full beer behind and search for Jess and David. There are hundreds of drunk kids in the house, and it doesn’t matter at all that I’m taller than most of them, not when people are dancing on the tables and licking alcohol off of each other. I feel like I’m suffocating. The entire house stinks of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and sweat. It takes fifteen minutes to look for either of them in the basement. When I’m halfway up the stairs, I’m tempted to leave them here and drive by in the morning to get them. But Aunt Steph would hate that.

The first floor is even worse than the basement. There may not be anybody dancing on the tables, but there is far more clothing being thrown about. It looks like there’s a drunken orgy happening in the living room on the floor. The carpet isn’t all that clean, to begin with, and add bodily fluids to it, and I nearly hurl on the spot. 

If this is what I’ve missed out on in the traditional college experience, well, I don’t want it, not at all. Thankfully, I don’t have to see either of my cousins naked and that eliminates the kitchen and living area entirely. All I have left are the bedrooms above. Just walking up the stairs, I can hear the creaking of bedsprings and lusty moans. It sounds like a contagious disease waiting to happen, and I don’t make it past the top step.

That’s it. I can’t search for Jess or David anymore and I fight my way to the front door while trying to ignore the tits that seem to get shoved into my face every few steps. As I open the door, a body slams right into me. It’s a kid, gangly and blond, knobby shoulders protruding sharply through the fabric of the worn t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” I can’t help the chuckle pouring out of my mouth. I’ve got at least 8 inches in height on him and I could easily break him into two if I wanted to. He must be ninety pounds soaking wet and his indignation is about as intimidating as an angry chihuahua. But I’m not looking for a fight, so I just move out of the way. Something about his angry green eyes and how they glow in the fresh night air is oddly captivating. I’m honestly not expecting to see him again, but just as I reach the Bronco and open the door, I see the same person get bodily chucked out of the house.

He’s shouting expletives into the night air, and when his anger runs out, he hunches his shoulders and stomps in my direction. Of course, a snarl rips out of his mouth the moment he sees me.

“What, asshole? Haven’t you seen someone get kicked out of a party by a bunch of dicks before?” 

“I have, kid. But I wanted to know if you were okay. Your knuckles look rough.” It’s true. His knuckles are bloody and bruised like he’s been punching something hard with no control. Those are going to sting like a bitch in the morning.

He snorts and must see something unassuming in my face because he uncrosses his arms and says, “I’m not a kid, I'm seventeen.” He’s a little young to be running around the UT campus and getting thrown out of parties, but I have the feeling if I say anything, he’ll probably just jump down my throat again. “I’m Jake.”

“Bradley.” I grin back. “Get in.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t get into cars with strangers.” He’s quick-witted, that’s for sure.

“No.” If my eyes roll as I look at Jake, that’s just between him and me. He must feel like shit if he hasn’t called me out for it yet. “I have a first aid kit in the glove box. I wanted to look at your knuckles before they scab over.” Jake looks shocked. I can almost see the gears grinding in his head as he thinks my words over.

“Move over.” I have to hide my grin until he’s safely in the passenger seat. I don’t know why it feels like such a victory, having this stranger accept my help. I leave the door open and lean in. He smells coffee and spice with an undertone of musk, sitting in my passenger seat with his eyes looking far too green in the low light.

“You don’t go to UT, do you?” Instead of responding, I just pop open the glove compartment and tug out the med kit.

“So what is this, Bradley?” He sounds disgruntled. “No answers without you taking care of my hands?”

I just hold my hand out until he puts his into mine. It’s a long-fingered hand, thin and bony. No well-fed eighteen-year-old boy has hands that look like this. Hands that look like they’ve been working every day of their life. I want to know why Jake’s got such a big chip on his shoulder and why someone so young has hands that look so worn.

“I’m really alright, you know?” I’m as gentle as I can be, patting at scraped knuckles with an isopropyl alcohol soaked cotton ball. Jake may talk a big game, but he’s wincing with each word. 

“Who’d you punch to fuck up your knuckles so badly?” 

“My asshole ex-boyfriend. He was cheating on me with one of his teammates. And I just found out today.” Jake’s voice chokes on a sob, and I can’t help the twinge of sympathy that goes through me at his words. Maybe I’m too quiet, because there’s a sharp tug on my sleeve.

“D’you have a problem with that?” Jake’s glaring at me, and it takes me longer than it usually would for me to figure out why.

“About the fact that you had a boyfriend?” He nods, the movement jerky and sharp. “Why would I care about that? You love who you love, that’s it.”

He looks blown away by my immediate acceptance of who he is. But Jake seems uncomfortable at the same time, uncomfortable enough that he changes the subject. “You never answered me earlier. You don’t go to school at UT.”

“No, I don’t.” I collect the trash into a small ball and put the kit away again. It feels weird to stand out in the night and talk when I have a perfectly good driver’s seat right on the other side of the car. I can already see a hundred questions on the tip of Jake’s tongue, so I hold one hand up and point to the trash bin nearby. I can feel every bit of his gaze on my back as I lope to the can and back, opting this time to get into the driver’s seat. Of course, no sooner am I buckled in, Jake’s looking right at me.

“Why are you here, then? Why were you at that party tonight?” I can hear the naked curiosity in his tone.

“I’m staying with some of my mom’s family over the summer. A couple of my relatives go to UT for school and invited me to the party. I just graduated from college and I’m joining the Navy in a week.” It sounds so real as I say the words. They sound equally real, it looks like, to Jake.

“Why the Navy?" I haven't felt like I'm the focus of another person in a long time. I feel flayed open, horribly, uncomfortably, seen.

My voice is quiet, a little rough, a little raw as I say, "My dad was in the Navy."

"What did he do?" I blink a little, not expecting this question so soon. Normally people want to know why my dad was in the Navy, in the past tense. They want to know what happened to him. They never want to know what he did or anything else about him.

"He was a Naval Aviator, a Radar Intercept Officer, to be specific." It makes me smile, like always, remembering my dad.

"What does a Radar Intercept Whatsit do?" Jake's nearly open-mouthed in the passenger seat, body turned my way in a jumble of limbs that looks nearly too cramped to be comfortable, beat up sneakers on the floor and wholly fascinated by every word pouring out of my mouth. That's unique too. I've never felt this rush, this instant connection before with anybody. 

"A Radar Intercept Officer," I repeat, earning myself an eye roll, "is the person sitting behind the pilot. They're responsible for enabling communications with ships and other jets, navigating and monitoring the radar. Pilots fly the plane, but RIOs do everything else." 

"Sounds boring." I have to chuckle at that, because when he's not angrily grumbling, Jake's actually handsome. And that's not a realization I ever wanted to have about a seventeen-year-old I just met. Forget the place, there's the matter of how this is all the wrong time, too. I can't afford any distractions, not even cute little twinks with more attitude than sense. I'm joining the military for fuck's sake. Don't Ask, Don't Tell is still very strongly enforced and Jake seems like the type to bulldoze his way on base one day just for the hell of it. Better stick to talking about flying, that's all. And that’s if we manage to stay in touch until he’s actually legal, too.

"Do you want to become a RIO too?" His voice is hesitant as he sounds out the acronym.

"Nah, I've always wanted to become a pilot. Actually fly the planes, y'know?" I swear I can see literal fighter jets flying around Jake's head, he's so enraptured by the idea.

"Is it hard?" 

I have to shrug at that, because maybe I just have flying in my blood. "Not any harder than learning how to drive or ride a bike - at least that's what it was like for me."

I can see Jake think of a few hundred more questions, but stop him with one of my own. "What’s a seventeen year old doing at a UT frat party?" 

 His nose crinkles, "Who said I’m not a student at UT?"

"Nobody. But something about you tells me that you aren’t a UT Student, even though seventeen-year-olds join universities as freshmen all the time." I’m almost afraid to see that look on his face. But instead, Jake seems to be feeling the same awe that I was earlier - horribly, uncomfortably, seen.

“Nah. I work at one of the coffee shops on campus.” No wonder he smells like cinnamon and coffee.

"But you don't want to, do you?"

His nod is sheepishly affirmative. "My uncle says I should get out of the house and do something with myself over the summer. If he had his way, when I graduate in a year I’ll be doing the same thing. But I want to do something exciting, not farm work or work in a factory or hell, even be a barista anymore. I think the Navy might be just the thing."

I have to grin at his enthusiasm. But a part of me can’t help wondering if the reason why Jake is so interested in escaping Austin is because of something else. But I’m not quite sure how to broach the topic. It’s silent and still in the car for a little bit. Jake looks like he’s thinking of what to say, and I’m struck by the halo the streetlight we’re under makes around his hair. He’s pretty, indescribably so, even with a purplish bruise rising on his cheekbone. His long lashes shine golden against the freckles dotting his cheekbones. I reach for the polaroid I always keep in the car and snap a couple of quick pictures. I hand one to Jake, but just as he’s about to ask me why I did that, I see red and blue lights in the rear view mirror and hear sirens blaring our way.

“Shit! C’mon, Bradley! Drive the car!” It takes me a few seconds to process what he’s saying but when I do, I put the car in drive and drive sedately down the street. 

“What the fuck, Brad!” I haven’t heard anyone call me Brad in years. That’s what my mom called me, what Mav did too. “Drive a little bit faster, why don’t you?! You keep driving like a fucking turtle and the cops will catch us in no time flat!”

“I’m driving at the speed limit.” I chuckle at the way Jake grumbles under his breath. “The police won’t pull us over if we’re doing everything right. You probably don’t want them calling your folks to tell them you were at a party, underage where alcohol was being served and an orgy was happening on the living room floor, now do you?”

We’re thankfully able to leave the scene without any trouble, and I let Jake direct me through the late night Austin streets. It’s quiet, and in the half-light I can’t help noticing how incredibly small and delicate Jake is at this moment. He has me pull over a few blocks away.

“Do you make a habit of running from the cops?” He laughs at that, a genuine belly aching infectious cackle bursting out of his mouth.

“No, I don’t.” Something dark glows over his eyes just as easily as the laugh. “My uncle wouldn’t have been happy at all if he had gotten that call.”

I really don’t know what to say to that, so I just wait.

“My mom always says that she doesn’t know who my dad was, and well, I don’t know if you know much about conservative Texans, but that was a no-go for most of my family. She’s out of state, working in a library in North Carolina, I think? And I’m with my aunt and uncle until I turn 18.”   

“I’m sure the minute that happens, I’m going to get kicked out. They didn’t approve of me just because I was born out of wedlock. They hated me even more when they found out I wasn’t exactly only into girls. My mom doesn’t know how bad it is for me here. And I’m not going to tell her either. I just don't know what to do.” He sniffles, sitting in the passenger seat, cheeks pinking in the glow of the streetlights. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you this either. But it feels like the universe wanted us to meet tonight. It feels like I can trust you.”

I’m struck dumb by those words and the butterflies swarming in my stomach. I’m flattered by his trust. It has me spilling all of my biggest secrets. I tell him more about my dad, about mom, about Mav. I tell him about my biggest victories and darkest regrets. We talk for hours, taking turns baring our souls until the sky turns gray at the edges. It's the small hours of the morning, that small section of the twilight zone where everything feels extra still. My throat is scratchy and my eyes are dry. Jake’s not much better.

The sleepy drawl in his voice makes shivers trail up and down my spine and it’s still so foreign feeling like this for someone I’ve just met. It’s a little terrifying, too. Far too soon, we’re pulling up in front of the party house. 

"I should get going." A part of me wants to stop him, offer to give him a ride, anything to stay in his presence just a bit longer. But the more rational part, the one chanting US Navy and Top Gun is screaming just as vehemently no.

"Do you need a ride?" My voice is nearly too loud for this time of night.

"Nah, Bradley. I live right around the corner." Jake gives me a two-fingered salute and begins to walk away, his shoulders bowed and looking incredibly small. It's a surprise when he stops, turns back around and jogs back to the car. He flings the door open, and I'm surprised to see the two spots of pink high up on his cheeks.

"Can we stay in touch? I'd love to pick your brain about the Navy, sometime?"

I'm nodding before my common sense can speak, ignoring the insidious little voice that says, "No you won't ever see him again. You're joining the Navy."

I hand Jake a pen and a scrap of paper I found in my pockets. What I get back is his first name and a phone number. "This is my landline. See you around, Bradley?"

My reply is too quiet as I roll the syllables of his name over my tongue. By the time Jessica and David have staggered their way out to the car, I'm sure Jake was just a figment of my imagination. Two weeks later, when it's my first turn with the phones on base, I call that number. I get a message telling me that the phone number I'm calling has been disconnected. I never get rid of that note though. It's almost like something's screaming at me to remember Jake. Maybe one day I'll find him again. And who knows? Maybe he's a lot closer than I think he is.

Nine Years Later

It’s been a long road getting to Top Gun. Walking through the halls it feels like everything I’ve worked and struggled for has finally paid off. I’m a pilot, I’m talented, if I do say so myself, and there is nothing I want to do more than finally put the Bradshaw name on that trophy. Walking into the classroom that first morning, I feel like this is the start of something great. Until the first hop later that week. There’s a blond in class with an ego that cashes checks for money he doesn’t have. But he has the skill to back up his words.

“Rooster, Rooster, Rooster. Are you ever going to get off your perch?” Hangman. Even his callsign fills me with rage. I’ve never met a more annoying person in my life. But there is something about him which seems familiar. Why does Hangman of all people seem so familiar? It’s a puzzle I can’t devote any time to solving. Not when I have to knock a blond idiot down a few pegs. I wonder what the Jake I met all those years ago would think about Hangman. I hope he’s doing well, wherever he is.

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @cassiemitchell @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[mousydentist]

my favorite fics that i wrote and why

So, first I'll explain. I'm gonna being reccing my own fics which I'm not super sure how to do cause I mostly just yeet shit on ao3 and let the fates decide, and I'm never sure what's like, too much? Like I see other people rec their own fics and I'm like (O O) how do i do that. Like idk why I have this resistance to like, telling people that I like my own fics? So today I said fuck that, everyone's gonna know now.

And I've just been doing not so hot recently for a number of reason and I figured like, I've been obsessing over so much, why don't I get to be excited about the good things? So anyway, these are my favorite fics that I've written, not just the ones that have done the best or whatever, just my personal favorites, so without further ado...

(quick fyi, all of these are locked so you need to be logged into ao3 to view)

First up is sorry that i can't believe anybody really starts to fall in love with me , don't ask why the name is so long I just like the song lmao. This one's special to me cause it was my first KPTS fic. Is it the best? No. Does it have a super deep meaning? Nope. But it's cute and it's mine so I love it. Next!

the imperfect art of making it. Very self indulgent. I wrote this for the endorphins fic fest which gave me the motivation to write, but really I just loving transing my characters, and soft KimChay deserves lots of love.

Next up, do you look up to the sky? My first whumptober fic and the first one I wrote bc as soon as I looked at the prompts I was like "oh Kim's getting locked in the fucking basement for sure" and then he did! Success. Also KimChay are a pstd4ptsd couple, I won't be taking questions at this time.

This is getting longer than I thought it was gonna be but fuck it, I told myself I was doing this to remind myself why I like writing and that I do actually enjoy it so the longer the better tbh bc it means I really do love it. It's not a bad thing if all of my fics have a special place in my heart, right?

Ok last of the non dead dove ones is i should have kissed you. I don't exactly have a reason, I just think it's a good fic.

The next ones are dead dove cause I have two modes which are cute fluff and illegal <3

chay and kinn and chay. This thing is my baby. I love him with my whole heart. I wrote him in discord messages on my walk to and from classes. This is one fic that I would not be ashamed to say I've read several times over. This is the fic that I think of when people say "write the fics you want to read." This was also a spite fic which makes all of that even funnier lmao

Willow Dancin' On Air. This one's not dead dove but it is KimVegas so eh. But this is another fic I wrote purely for myself. I just wanted some fluffy lil somethin somethin and now every time I listen to this song I think of this fic

Ok last one, Why minors shouldn’t gamble. This one also started on discord and was written in my notes app at like. 9 am while I was still in bed lmao. Because that's where inspiration peaks. And it's hot idk. omegaverse will never not be be a special interest of mine, hopefully one day we can find out what happens when Kim joins the party, I'm genuinely curious.

OK! So. That was something. Tbh I feel a lot better lmao. My therapist would be so proud of me if I ever told her I write fanfiction pff. Normalize reading your own fics over and over. I'm saying that directly to myself cause I see all these like motivational things about writing and then I don't believe them, what's that about?? Doing this reminded me that I actually like the things I create, highly recommend. Now I'm gonna get myself a glass of water cause for the next maybe 12 hours I'm changing my life!! I'm doing self care!!! Woo hoo!!!!! Now to post this before I remember that other people can see it :) Ok bye ✌️

[starythewriter]

KINKMAS 15 thor x you thor falls for a goddess.

TW:MINORS DNI

A/N: YALL BEFORE YOU READ, I AM HOLDING A VOTE ON 6 NEW CHARACTERS THAT I SHOULD WRITE FOR IF YOU WANNA VOTE, INBOX ME WITH THE CHARACTER OR PERSON YOU WANT ME TO WRITE FOR, IT CAN BE ANYONE, BRYCE PARKER, JACOB DAY, OR ROMAN REIGNS. ANYBODY!

you got up, feeling amazing, but somewhat nervous as you had a date with the god of thunder and storms. you had some nice pink classy heels. preparing for this date was nerve wrecking usually you didn't care or give much importance however, this was the god of thunder, he was handsome and so hot.

THOR's pov: I got ready to see the beautiful Y/N, I was excited but a little nervous the goddess was hot and known for seduction, tricks and leaving men in love with her for years.

your POV: you were anxious "I need to make a good impression" your friend alex came bursting in. "I already know how you are. everything will be ok…" you gave a nervous chuckle "how do you know?" "because, you've literally done this hundreds of times you do not need to worry what's so special about him anyways?"

"because alex… hes the god of thunder, and war. he's mighty hes not just a normal everyday person" you said as you put on some eyelinear. you stared at alex through the mirror. she smiled "really? you will be fine." if anything goes wrong I will be there" you were ready, you went to asgard, seeing thor.

"hey Y/N. how are you?" "im good how are you?" "im great here lets order some drinks" alex stayed back watching, she saw an amazing garden and went to check it out. you saw as thor snapped his fingers ordering a sex on the beach his buttoned up shirt tighted around his large biceps and his veiny wrists. you smiled ordering a martini. "you rule all of asgard?" "yes of course darling…" he gave you a bright smile that made your heart light up. he set his drink down explaining how much he loved his place. as he set his drink down you noticed his biceps, your eyes fluttered as he stared into your soul.

"I know you are well versed in glamour and seduction…" he said with curiosity. his eyes were searching deeply for a response. "yes I am, I dont rule much but Ive been known to seduce any man ive come into contact with. sometimes it depends, some men easily get sucked in, but some need some risk, like showing off my potions of posion."

"I see… I can see the intrigue… I wouldnt say thats totally fair tho as you are a ruler of all men in a way." he said finishing up his drink, giving you a glint within his eyes, you finished up your drink.

you both ordered a 2nd round. you were beyond attracted to thor… his blond hair, his perfect biceps the way that he dressed all of it. "tell me how has the progress with asgard been ever since its destruction" you saw a lump build in his throat. "pretty good…" he said stumbling on his words. "its been rough with architecture but the progress has been fast" he said a little shocked at the question. you saw alex, she had found some pumpkins and she kept looking at how beautiful things were. but they were also far apart, this place was far beyond what you imagined.

alex walked in, you didnt notice "hey, hey thor I am alex nice to meet you" alex said having a smile on her face being as welcoming as possible. "nice to meet you alex tell me a bit about yourself" "I am a archer, best one of my town along with a spice of witchyness."

"ha nice, heres a ticket to an archer event being hosted in asgard the both of you are invited" "oh thank you thor." "Y/N ill be over here with an old friend wave if you need me" "alright love ya" "love ya Y/N" thor asked "so.. are you gonna take me up on that offer" he said with a stern smirk, you noticed his jaw, it was perfect and beyond smooth" you licked your tongue thinking about how handsome he was. "I dont think so I would love to get a tour of your place."

"someones egar to see my palace huh?" he said with a grin "lets go" you said slapping his bicep, you got an eletric touch from skin to skin contact is felt amazing. you also noticied him shiver. you arrived to the palace it was big, just like him… you got your mind out of the gutter as he showed you all of the rooms. bathrooms everything was carefully placed.'their was no speck of dust. everything was protected, you noticed a large bubble around the palace. protecting it from any danger. to be fair this was your first date in awhile, not your first date ever but, the first one in a long time.

"wow this place is pretty thor.." "just like you my darling" he said with a grin. fuck you said to yourself you he was so hot, you noticed the way he was standing and how he would stare at you. he scratched his back nervously. he showed you his room, you found a gold necklace "whos is this?" "its a magic necklace… used for the seductress I have others one for poseidon, one for eros." "wow its so pretty" he got face to face. you saw his hot nose, his soft and sharp jawline, you squirmed, feeling a shock of bliss. you gave him a kiss. the first one in months. he shivered it was almost as the both of you had a shockwave of bliss sent through one anothers bodies.

"you are beyond beautiful." said thor. your stomach has butterflies as he kissed your stomach, you took his shirt off and then his pants "careful darling" "love you in the color blue looking so sexy…"

"you know your biceps are amazing" you both had smirks but you were flushed beyond your comprehension. you were entranced by him. but thor was so handsome. you rubbed your hand across his biceps, he groaned as almost if he had gotten a massage. "what about you… I wanna see that beauty underneath the blue" your cheeks flushed.

"just relax handsome" he had a strong gaze you kissed his abs. slowly taking off your dress. you took off his boxers. you kissed him "are you comfortable darling" "yes thor, I just need you to fuck me up" you wished you didnt say that but your doubt quickly went away and you gripped onto his arms, you switched your position you were no longer ontop of him you were now laying on the bed. he kissed you as he slowly entered.

the feeling was crazy like never before, somehow you knew you were at the right place and at the right time you had never felt this. tingling sensation in your cunt but also all over his body. he let out moans groans "fuck darling… you… send… tingling through my entire body." his words flew out with a arrow of bliss you hand was gonna slip off the bed but thor didn't let that happening keeping you in a comfy position.

"fuck" you moaned, "someone's needy" you moaned as he went faster. "dont hold back thor" he went faster. now your legs were a puddle of wetness while thor was turning into a fireball.

"I guess a god like you has good taste" "of course I do especially with a respectful person like you Y/N" as he said that he kissed your cunt slowly licking it as if you were ice cream. you moaned titling your head back. almost as if his tongue gave you an orgasm. he went back to fucking you deeply. you both did not stop moaning as every movement was like an orgasm.

"fuck darling… I see why your the rightful ruler of men" that alone sent you off you both moaned loudly as you reached your peak. a burst of energy was sent out not only from you but from him as a storm and rain set in stronger then any other you've seen.

"I love you" you both hugged eachother tightly. planning to set off together into asgard as it rained. still feeling a tingling senstation of bliss.

THE END!

[mikewheelerfan2022]

Book review: I Hunt Killers

Alright, I’ve never done a book review before, but I Hunt Killers was so good I just have to gush about it. Honestly, when I first saw this book at Barnes & Noble my first response was: this looks cringy. The title and cover both turned me off. I literally judged it by its cover. But then I read the description, and was like “Huh. This looks interesting. I’ll get it.” So I did. It took a while, but I started it last night and read about 100 pages before I was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. Today, I’ve been reading it on and off, and managed to finish the remaining about 250 pages. Here are my thoughts.

The book follows Jasper “Jazz” Dent, a completely normal teenager, if you ignore the fact that his father is the world’s most notorious serial killer. So actually not that normal. The book establishes very early that Jazz’s upbringing was really fucked up. This has caused Jazz to have a different thought process from most people. When a normal person looks at a body, they’re disgusted and terrified. But Jazz is cold and fascinated. That makes for a really interesting POV. He’s low-empathy, but he hates it. He doesn’t want to be like his father, in fact a major plot point in the book is how he’s trying to stop himself from turning into his father. It’s genuinely one of the most interesting thought processes I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.

At the beginning of the book, Jazz is sitting in a field, observing a crime scene with binoculars. Police are there, investigating the dead body of a woman. Jazz is intruded, yes. But he doesn’t care too much. Not until he sees what’s in a certain bag of evidence. (Minor spoilers ahead). It’s a finger. Three of the woman’s fingers have been removed, although only one remains at the crime scene. This leads Jazz to a disturbing realization: this isn’t an ordinary murderer. It’s a serial killer. The rest of the storyline follows his attempts to find this serial killer, and put a stop to the killings.

The two other main characters are Howie, Jazz’s best friend and Connie, Jazz’s girlfriend. Howie has a severe case of hemophilia, and bleeds very, very easily. I believe there’s even a passage in the book where it’s described that he’ll bleed if you look at him the wrong way. And yeah, without spoiling, there are a few situations where he does end up bleeding pretty heavily. I actually have a severe phobia of blood, and what’s funny is the descriptions of Howie’s injuries made me way more light headed than the descriptions of the bodies. I actually almost had to put the book down a couple of times and stop reading.

But anyways, on to Connie. I find her to be quite an interesting character. She doesn’t seem to care at all that she’s dating the son of a serial killer. And Jazz is thankful for that sense of normalcy. I wish I could say more about Connie, but I can’t without getting into some spoiler territory. Which sucks, because she’s such an interesting character and I love her so much. But oh well. She’s definitely my second favorite, just behind Jazz, if only because I find Jazz’s internal monologue so interesting.

There are also some more minor characters, which I won’t really get into. But practically every single one of them is a suspect, which is amazing. I constantly kept changing my guess of which one was the killer. Eventually, I just admitted “I don’t know.” Which honestly shocked me. Normally whenever I read a mystery book, I have a guess of who the culprit is, even if my guess is wrong. But with I Hunt Killers, I was genuinely stumped. That just goes to show the author is an absolute master at writing this genre. I was kept on the edge of my seat up until the ending.

Now, the ending. I don’t want to spoil anybody, so I’m not going to go into too much detail. But I loved the ending. I found myself shouting a few…interesting words in reaction to how it all played out. And you know a book is good when the first thing you do is immediately search up to get the sequels. Unfortunately my mom hasn’t put them on hold at the library yet, but hopefully she will soon. Until then, I will be desperately avoiding spoilers. If you have read the series, please don’t spoil me. If you haven’t, go read it right now. I’m serious. Right this second. Go on Amazon or Barnes & Noble and buy I Hunt Killers IMMEDIATELY. Or get it from the library, I don’t care. Either way, you need to read this absolute masterpiece.

5/5 stars!

[its-all-papaya]

FIC WRITER INTERVIEW

ty for the tag @bright-and-burning booping u like a tumblr cat paw

How many works do you have on AO3?

uhhhh six if you count the lestappen i put on anon and the comp thing that's just a collection of kiss prompt fills that did not become their own fics

What's your total AO3 word count?

35,045

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

even if it ends (460)

anybody, nowhere (319)

the devil in me (310)

gentle with the ache (236) i am this fic's deadbeat dad like i'm not going to pretend i didn't write it but you can only interact with it if ur gonna be nice bc it makes me want to scream cry & throw up

the hollow hereafter (217)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i literally respond to every single comment ! if i don't know what to say i will think of something ! comments literally keep me alive. like i joke about writing for attention but genuinely the thought of receiving comments and reblog tags is what keeps me going on my wip's. i have the biggest praise kink that has EVER existed and god knows nobody is praising me for anything ever in my real life, so i gotta take what i can get. it's insane that real people read my words and have enough thoughts about them to like... type those thoughts out. so i must thank every individual person with a heart and a virtual kiss on their head.

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

even if it ends for suuuure. i had people threatening self-harm in the ao3 bookmarks of that one in a loving way, and that's without even knowing about the rich inner life that i didn't expand on the way i originally planned to. in my brain, oscar has already decided to leave mclaren by the time the events of that fic happen bc their teammateship has gotten so self-destructive, so lando's "you can't stay" and oscar's "i know, but i want to anyway" is so much more knife-to-the-heart than y'all even realize.

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

uh. i don't really want to count the kiss prompts because they don't really exist to me as fic, so... anybody, nowhere i guess? the devil in me is not NOT happy. can i cheat and say dad lando even though it doesn't actually exist yet?

Do you write crossovers?

no jesus christ i can barely write characters outside of oscar and lando (and apparently max fewtrell according to like two people). adding in even MORE variables is making me nauseous just thinking about it.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

"hate" is a strong word but there is a reason that my lestappen is on anon now.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do write it sometimes, but not very successfully (glaring at u lestappen garbage). i have two landoscar wip's that are basically pwp, but i just don't really think i'm good at smut, so idk if they'll ever go anywhere for real. the pacing is simply so impossible to me. like how soon is too soon to have an orgasm. also like 90% of my writing is just knockoff versions of my own emotions from various points, and so as someone who only hooks up with people for reasons not really related to actually getting off, i find it really really hard to write the build-up and come-down from smut WHILE ALSO really struggling with the actual acts. like what are normal people's brains doing before during and after making someone come? bc i guarantee it is not what my brain does. it just doesn't really compute unfortunately.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think my fics have existed long enough to be stolen tbh.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no but i wrote literally millions of words while roleplaying in any number of ships back in the day.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

i think probably steve/bucky of the marvel universe? i don't really fw it much at this exact moment because endgame literally ruined my life for a bit, but that's probably the ship i've enjoyed the most over the years.

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

honestly all of my wip's outside of dad lando and that nutcracker thing i'm definitely not writing shhh. I will fight shave fic eventually i think. the wip that's absolutely never getting finished the most securely is the fake dating thing based on that kiss prompt i filled in like july. like it's a 50k concept that i have like 5k worth of motivation for.

What are your writing strengths?

um. i think just, like. prose that sounds nice? i think i did a good job putting readers inside of lando's head in anybody, nowhere, so i'd say i'm occasionally good at translating emotion/headspace too. actually i'll go ahead and say that about all of my published landoscar, because i think that's even if it ends' strength too. dad lando is less that way, but it has other things going for it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

i'm really really mean to myself, so it's hard to pick just one. i'm bad at writing characters distinctly i think. like i just make them do things based on what feels good in my brain and just hope that y'all don't think they're OOC, but whenever i stop to think "what would oscar say here?" it's like... blank. bc i don't know. and it's really MUCH worse with everyone outside of landoscar. i also don't think my pacing is very good and i get hung up on details people won't care about and also i have a compulsive need to make EVERYTHING a metaphor. i'm going to stop there bc insecurity isn't very cute but i also over-edit and introduce too many threads and i could literally go on all night

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

i don't honestly see the point? because either you provide a translation, which defeats the purpose, or you don't, which makes it a secret for some readers but NOT the ones who speak the language in question. i'm spoiled by native-english-speakers landoscar as my primary ship, but i think if i ever wanted to write a convo between like. charles and pierre, ig, i would just write it in english and be like "they said in french" afterwards of smthn, idk. i think the only time i've written in not-english is that lestappen "after a long wait" kiss prompt and it was like a language device (haha) and not dialogue.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

i've only ever published on ao3 for F1. way way back i used to fill prompts on tumblr for one direction, which was the first fandom content of any kind that i wrote. the first actual fanfic i ever typed into a word document was finnpoe from the star wars sequel trilogy. so depends how you wanna define!

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

i got really really spooked by my lestappen adventure because it actually broke my brain for a bit, so now i'm scared to write anything but landoscar. i think the most likely non-landoscar ship i'd write is maxiel, probably? i saw them across the bar and loved their vibe. daniel feels kind of impossible for me to write though so idk if i ever will.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

anybody, nowhere i think, because i think it's the most complete thing i've done. i also really love how even if it ends turned out too, which is crazy bc i haaaaated it mid-writing process. i think it feels really like... i don't know. gritty? messy in a way that makes it authentic? idk how to describe. i think even if it ends has my favorite characterizations i've written for both lando AND oscar. but anybody, nowhere is my firstborn and i treasure her, so. yeah. tie, maybe.

tagging @fear8not1 (i know ur like. not on tumblr. but in case u would like to) and @volantium !!

[desi-lgbt-fest]

Hi, so I've recently realised that I'm neither straight nor cis. And this has been making me overthink myself a lot because I keep thinking that if I feel like I'm neither straight nor cis am I really queer, or am I just some straight girl lying to myself to feel special? And these thoughts keep making me dysphoric. Do you have any advice on how to deal with this?

Straight up? This is the origin story of every gay person ever lmao. I remember having these Very Intense™️ feelings about girls as a teenager and then being like wow lmao that was a crazy glitch in my system. I'm gonna think about this random generic guy I made up really hard to cancel out whatever that was.

But honestly, Anon, most likely it's your brain and body fighting against what you've been socialized to learn and grow up with your whole life. You're still valid and you're not doing this for attention (no one in their right mind would ever deal with all of this for attention, and if they think they do, they end up being gay anyway). Maybe you don't have a name or label for all these feelings and thoughts right now, and that is PERFECTLY fine and normal. You are good and this is great progress. Sometimes it's good to overthink it a bit because at least you're paying attention to yourself and all these big emotions.

If it's too hard to sit with sometimes, then I recommend writing/drawing/or talking it out. Use your notes app or record yourself speaking so you can read/hear your thoughts and have them out there so you don't stew over them by yourself. Follow that up with affirmations and self-reflection. We are our harshest critics and it's helping no one if all we do is be mean to ourselves. If you feel like it, then share your insights in a safe space!!

By the way, this is helpful for anybody wanting to start self-reflection and journaling. It's actually proven through research that any kind of introspective work yields the same results as meditation and therapy!!

[mylittlesecrethaven]

My Anxiety And Depression Growing Up

Ah.

Forgot this was in my drafts.

Oh well

Here we go I guess.

(it's literally a story of my middle school like, so don't read this if you ain't for that)

I spent most of my early life thinking that the way I felt was normal.

Y'know, everybody wants to hurt themselves and kill themselves and everyone always feels like the world is crumbling around them and trying to squash them like a bug and like nothing's going the way it should.

Yeah, apparently a lot of people don't feel like that?

At least at my age they didn't.

I never told my parents about this cause I'm an only child and if there was anything "wrong" with me, it was quickly beat out of me.

(my dad's pretty hard southern, so.... belts were commonplace around my house. Maybe that's why I never told my dad shit growing up)

Anyway, I had some rough times in junior high because I was pretty childish and all my friends thought I was acting too immature to hang out with me.

So I started 6th grade with all my friends turning from friends to bullies really fast.

And I don't think that helped with how I felt about myself.

I turned to writing dark stories and poems, which got me into a shit ton of trouble with my teachers cause one of my stories got found by another kid and it scared the shit out of them apparently.

Then I had some rough times in a class I hated but had to take cause a new kid came along and he started bullying me for shit, and I was trying to find a friend group to fit into, but there was this "war of the gays" going on at my school which made it impossible for anybody to ever want me near them.

(I'm not even joking about that, btw. My first middle school was kinda in the city, so everyone was pretty open about being gay, but then this war started between groups where they accused other groups of not actually being gay and everyone hated each other? And there were some people who weren't gay but had to say they were gay to be able to keep their friends. It was a whole mess and I couldn't keep any friends cause of it)

Anyway, one day during my dance class (cause I had to take either athletics, dance, or colorguard and the dance class was the only one left with open spots) in the locker room, I got this really weird.... feeling? sensation?.... idk what to call it, maybe an impulse, and I pulled out my mini stapler that I carried around and stapled my hand.

And it didn't really hurt, but it did cause an adrenaline rush. I pulled the staple out and I was fine, it didn't cause any damage besides the two tiny holes. The problem was that I couldn't keep my mouth fucking shut and I was showing it off for some reason?

Anyway, the school found out and that paired with the story got me a trip to the councilor's office and a meeting with my mom. They referred me to a child therapist and.... well..... I guess other stuff happened that also affected my school moving....

Basically, a family friend that I went to school with told the councilors a secret that was supposed to stay within my family, and then the councilors didn't tell my parents when they called CPS about it, got a case filed, and that was a whole thing.

But yeah, I moved middle schools and got a therapist. The first therapist was great. She was there to help with my depression and anxiety cause she was the first person to actually help me understand what was going on and help me explain that to my parents.

But.... she was too expensive, so I had to change therapists. After the CPS case, I had to have a therapist, but this one didn't help with my depression and anxiety at all. She was just there to help me with that event I mentioned earlier.

This event is something I don't like talking about cause it influenced my early life really badly. I couldn't keep my mouth shut about it when I was younger, and that really fucked up my life.

Anyway, we focused on that, but I really didn't want to talk about it cause I was uncomfortable even mentioning it. Honestly, going to therapy just to talk about the event made me really upset and it made it hard for me to want to interact with anybody at my new school.

(this new school was very southern btw and I was very openly gay at my school, so maybe that didn't help)

I also didn't like this therapist cause she made me do things I hated. I had to write a full fucking story over what happened in that event and read it out loud to my mom, and the therapist told my mom everything even when I asked her not to, so I just stopped telling her what was going on in my life and she didn't seem to care.

Anyway, after therapy was over, I went back to a semi-normal life. I learned to bottle up my feelings and I started becoming very dependent on friends, in the sense that I needed friends and I'd follow them like a puppy dog and do whatever they wanted just so that we could stay friends.

Nowadays, I'm pretty ok I guess. My depression and anxiety may be worse now than it ever was, but that's ok. I just keep that shit to myself and maybe spill shit on Tumblr.

But yeah, that's pretty much my story I guess.

Therapists made me distrust other therapists and councilors, so I learned to hide my depression and anxiety and live with what happened when it all comes spilling over.

(also, when I was having suicidal thoughts when I was younger, my mom would call me selfish? and that didn't really help with anything)

So yeah.

Sorry about the long post.

[eddiestattoos]

20 questions for fanfic writers!

Tagged by @aintgonnatakethis 💙

How many works do you have on AO3? 46

What's your total AO3 word count? 213 147

What fandoms do you write for? My big two are stargate (any and all. Mostly sg1 and sga though) and csi. Though my ao3 says my most posted fandoms are smallville and spn, and that's technically correct, from the svnatural crossovers. There's a couple other shows thrown in there too but we won't get into my whole writing history and future rn

Top 5 fics by kudos:

The thing about a fantasy (csi, G, CathRick)

Beautiful disaster (sga, sg1, T, Gen.)

Keep me safe (sg1, G, Sam/Daniel)

Take me back into your arms (sg1, T, Sam/Daniel)

Morning person (sg1, G, sam & daniel)

Do you respond to comments? Not always, but no that if you've left a nice comment I'm grinning like an idiot each and every time I read it. I love them.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I feel like I don't write a ton of angsty ending so I might have to say so much for normal (also my 6th fic by kudos). It ends basically how spn starts, so yeah.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh so many but I think the ultimate one has to be take me back into your arms. Nothing like a reunion after coming back to this mortal coil

Do you get any hate on fics? Thankfully no (knock on wood)

Do you write smut? No siree. Not my wheelhouse

Craziest crossover? I basically started by writing crossovers, but the wackiest is definitely the Jason Teague & Dean Winchester are twins fic. Thanks @morrison-the-ii once again

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I hope not!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge, but I'd allow it!

Have you ever co written a fic? I've bounced ideas with various people, but never actually wrote with anybody

All time favourite ship? I'm not sure tbh. My unhinged svnatural SamLois era was very fun and am still much a fan of Sam/Daniel fics. But one it always seems to come back to writing for me is the brotp between Sara and Nick. They're such a great dynamic to work with and I truly missed writing all csi but especially them so much. Bonus answer Clois, but I don't think I've wrote anything for them. Or at least not anything beyond a ficlet

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have this saving hope doc I've had for over a year that was meant to be a role reversal of the series finale (meaning its Alex because I like to be even more depressing apparently). The doc is still empty to this day and I honestly think itll stay that way but let's be real nobody wants that anyway I know I really don't 😭. Could also say csi road trip fic but I'm damned and determined to write that one

What are your writing strengths? Characters and dialogue. I love characters and I always feel like I have a good grasp on each of them and can keep them in character as much as possible

What are your writing weaknesses? Any kind of creative descriptors.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language? I doubt I'd personally try it, but I mean if you want to, I don't see a reason not to

First fandom you wrote in? First fic I ever started was Resurfacing (csi, M, gen.) First fic I posted however was the original version of hear it from me (svnatural, G; Clois & Sam)

Favourite fic you've written? Do you know how hard this is? I might have to go with special occasion (svnatural, G; gen.) Just because of how excited I was for that idea combining the best of both worlds. But another one I'm proud of for some reason is just maybe (we'll be alright) (sgu, G; TJ/Young). I don't often feel great about my scene setting and emotion but I like to think I hit the nail on the head with that one

Tagging (no pressure): @sga-owns-my-soul @jencsi @ilkkawhat and @space-helen

But please also feel free to jump on if you see this!

[so-litudinal]

my back hurts. wish i had one of those cool and actually comfortable gaming chairs to sit in at my desk. wish i had that kind of money. wish i had money. like one with a seat wide and deep enough that i could have enough space to sit cross-legged or hugging my knees to my chest. god my back would be so grateful. i love the plain little old wooden chair i have, it was left at the house by the owners when we moved in so technically it's not even mine. it's cute and i'm weirdly attached to it but not the kind of chair you want to sit in for hours on end. but anyway. yeah. no money for a gaming chair. and even if i did, i'd have to buy a new desk as well cuz the one i have wouldn't accommodate it anyway. it's the same desk i've had since my teenage years. i had it at the previous place i lived in. same for my bed. and most pieces of furniture i own, really. and i mean, that's fine. it's just the desk and the bed that make me feel kind of weird when i think too much about it. especially the bed. "what 30 yo sleeps in the same bed she did when she was 15?" kind of thought. that's not quite the right question i mean to ask, though there's definitely a clear line of reasoning there, but i'm too much of a coward to ask myself the more honest question.

i'm kind of aching all over lol. every day, some time after i wake up and i've had my first glass of water/cup of tea, i start feeling sick and it lasts all day basically. nauseous. and always the headache and sore eyes by the end of the day. they're all things i could avoid if i made even the smallest bit of effort to take better care of my health...

(i'm used to this but every once in a while, it'll strike that a train of thought could start with "i'd like to own a gaming chair" and conclude with, well, suicide is the only option. i'm aware it's become normal to me, as in, i'm used to thinking like that all the time. but it's not normal, is it? i'm not even sure lol.)

whenever i come on here to write about myself, i realise how hard it'd be to have any kind of sympathy for someone like me lol. i read what i write and i feel nothing but contempt. even a spike of cruelty. like wanting to kick a stray dog in the rain. not that i would ever dream of doing that. just how i think of myself. and yet i remain as complacent as ever. can't tell if i'd feel any different, even the slightest bit less mean, if it were anybody else but me and my own words. i don't know. after all, i'm not a very kind person at heart.

i initially sat down to do some back up stuff but my aching back brought me here i guess. i put on some music and when i opened spotify, i remembered something i've been thinking for a while. i don't think i like ichiko aoba's much anymore.... which makes me sad. and angry with myself because i know that part of the reason why is because after i discovered her, i introduced her music to someone else (it's horrible of me to even put it as "someone else"...) and i always end up regretting doing that after a while. i hate myself for that. that's what i mean when i say that, deep down, i'm not much of a good person at all. other reason is mainly i'm one of those very annoying people who start to lose interest in a thing when it becomes more popular. truly, what an unlikeable character lol. maybe i also don't particularly vibe with the direction her music is going in, which is fine at least. i do still really like her old duo's music (especially the album w/ave).

......feeling particularly inarticulate tonight. so. time to go.

[bigmack2go]

Idk if this is about my post but in case it is i just wanna clear up smt:

I never said that it was antisemitism to hc hin as jewish wtf.

What i meant wasn’t that hc‘ing david as jewish was antisemitistic. That doesn’t even make sense. And i do not have the right to say that EVER unless i convert to judaism.

I also didn’t say that the headcannon was wrong i just said that i personally didn’t like how it came to be( or how I THOUGHT it came to be);it felt like a stereotype to me.

At this point I didn’t know that it was actually cannon, which got cleared up by someone and i took it back and apologised.

I also said that i even personally hc‘ed him as jewish. I get that that was phrased wrong but i fixed it.

Please finish reading before you say something against it!

About the „afraid“ part. Lol im literally not at all afraid of that because as i said; representation is so incredibly important!! I also said WHY it was important but thats another topic. What i AM afraid of is that i do in fact hurt anybody with what i write. Its especially important for me to represent minorities because i belong to sole myself and i know what its like when its always braught up, when the only media about it, shows how they struggle with society instead of showing how they struggle with the problem itself. thats also the reason i dont bring up religion sexuality nationality in my fics. (It should be normal anyway, so theres that). Which is why i include minority characters but dont make it a minority. I dont bring it up, so i can show how society should be. I just let it be normal. Also i dont think i have the right to it. Thats as if i wrote abt racism as a white person?? Like just no!

Anyway i was called out for it on one of my books (and also on one of my newsie fics, which is why i even included that part in the first place) and i just dont think thats right!

I really genuinely hope I didn’t offend anyone with it!!!

Hello Newsies fandom, for your casual viewing pleasure (and because apparently some people think headcanoning the Jacobs family as Jewish is antisemitic), here is the exact passage from the official Newsies novel that states Davey is Jewish and Jack is Irish :D

It's not a headcanon, it's literally written in the source material and, even if it wasn't, this fandom has been headcanoning characters' ethnicities based on their names since 1992. They're street kids living in New York City in 1899, they're going to be a diverse group and the best thing we have to go on is their names. I know my group of mutuals headcanon at least two other characters as Jewish, somewhat if not entirely based on their names.

Like, I don't know how else to explain that headcanoning a character with a traditionally Jewish name isn't "stereotyping" it's literally just being like "oh hey, this whole family has really common Jewish names, it would be fun if they're Jewish" and then we all move on with our lives because it's also literally canon. Like, it would be bad if we were headcanoning a character as Jewish purely because they exhibit behaviors that are also associated with negative Jewish stereotypes but that's literally not what's happening here. Also I'm pretty sure it's mentioned in the non-dialogue parts of the script somewhere but I don't have access to that.

In conclusion, don't be weird about people headcanoning characters as minorities, it's not stereotyping it's literally just people existing.

(Also, I am not Jewish, so I do not at all claim to be any kind of authority on representation. If any Jewish bloggers want to weigh in I will happily read and be open to learning!)