#gotta share the folder someday

[ligbi]

300x300 Icon Bases // Marcille // Episode 7

[8-rae-rae-8]

BUSTS DOWN THE DOOR.

chronic pain is flaring and depression is beating my ass. time to shout my mama price silliness from the rooftops

i always talk about the boys but as a caregiver myself, i know price would be the best caregiver.

are the men under his command arguably some of the most skilled, lethal men in the world who don’t need protection?

yes.

is he going to be a mama bear for the 141 anyway?

ABSOLUTELY.

anyone who has a problem with gaz, soap, or ghost has a problem with him. price will not hesitate to pull rank (even from behind the scenes, like making sure they aren't promoted) if someone is shitty to any of them.

i think a lot of people don’t realise we get “caregiver” headspace!! i need price sliding into it everytime he’s remotely proud of his boys. gaz gets a new best score for training? price was the scoop him up and spin him around. ghost has a good communication day, asking for what he needs? price wants to buy him 100 new plushies. soap remembers to take his meds, shower, etc. on time? STICKER ON THE CHART, BABY. something about the way they beam at him when he says "good job" makes him feel all warm inside.

i strongly headcanon that price has chronic pain from being older and his years of service---especially his knees. it kills him that sometimes he just can't carry the boys around or kneel next to them while they play. the guilt of not being a good caregiver, or them needing someone *better*, eats him up inside.

the boys absolutely know about this, even when small. they love helping him out!! they know mama needs help and are happy to bend over and grab something, or just are content to watch a movie in the rec room somedays.

(baby regressed simon is known to just hand price a plushie when he knows the other is upset. especially on rainy days when simon shares the same achey joint issues).

re him being so proud of them: price keeps every drawing they make. every. single. one. he several manilla folders with everything from non-regressed soaps' realism drawings to simon's marker scribbles.

a drawing that gaz did in crayola marker of the team is framed in his office. (:

as a local enby "mama," you already know i'm projecting onto that man lol

-🧪 who is working on cod OC & The Sticker Chart™ content

STICKER CHART !!!!

Oh a good old sticker chart 😌

I love this so SO much 😭

He's just gotta Mama Bear his boys, that's what he does !!

On good days, he'll hold one or two of them on his legs as they watch a show or movie. Price doesn't have to tell them if he's feeling too sore, they notice, and they're happy to accommodate it even if they're little !!

[bitterflames]

fic writer interview

(tagged by @sunriseverse, tysm for the tag!! 💙 posting on my sideblog because it feels like the right place for this sort of rambling.)

How many works do you have on AO3? 10 (plus the one i orphaned, which still has my username attached). one is fanart. i'm... a very irregular writer.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 32,694 words (i do mean a very irregular writer lol).

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1) snow and repetitions of snow (elder scrolls) (169) 2) no takebacks (mysterious lotus casebook) (126) 3) a light that does not flicker (elder scrolls) (85) 4) what's in a name? (mysterious lotus casebook) (78) 5) to gravity and the unknown (elder scrolls) (50) the actual most-kudosed work of mine is the Accursed Orphan, red oni, blue oni (tensei shitara slime datta ken) with 2202 (oh god). it really, really wasn't my best work, i stopped following the canon when i got bored with the plot, and the constant stream of kudos emails started to get on my nerves, hence the orphaning.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i try my best to! that said there are a lot of unanswered comments from periods where i just couldn't keep up with life. i appreciate each and every one though! i swear i'll get around to them someday 😭

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? i tend to write bittersweet more than outright angsty. maybe snow and repetitions of snow, featuring two shitty stubborn wizards who are on-again off-again exes/enemies with benefits. it ends on them realizing that their ideals and personalities are irreconcilable and yet they cherish each other regardless. sometimes it just be that way!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? no takebacks is very short but given that it undoes a major character death and ends with a sort-of marriage proposal: probably that one. sometimes you just gotta write fluff to soothe the soul.

Do you write crossovers? not really. occasional crossover cameos can be fun, but overall they don't interest me a ton? i much prefer fusion AUs, but i don't often write them; perhaps because my stuff tends to be shorter and more intensely character-focused than setting-focused.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? not openly. if anyone's hating on my fics in private that's their prerogative lmao.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? occasionally! there's one explicit fic on my account and numerous WIPs that may or may not ever see the light of day. "porn with feelings" is probably the best description for the stuff i tend to write. sometimes the characters are trying very hard to ignore those feelings but they're still there. (shout out to the one lin chen/mei changsu WIP in my folder which is Very Much That.)

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge. i tend to write for small fandoms and rare pairs so i'm probably not high on the radar for that sort of thing?

Have you ever had a fic translated? yes! snow and repetitions of snow was translated into mandarin, i'm very happy that someone liked my fic enough to do so :)

Have you ever co-written a fic before? not yet, though i've done illustrations for big bang fics in the past, and RP'd and created shared AU verses with friends. actual co-writing isn't something i've done, but the idea is intriguing! (that said, i'm extremely flakey and wouldn't wish myself as a co-writer upon anyone.)

What’s your all-time favorite ship? "all-time" is a pretty broad category, wow. in terms of sheer volume of fics i've bookmarked though mei changsu/xiao jingyan are absolutely destroying the competition, no contest. in terms of "currently rent-free in my brain" i am frantically paddling this XJY/MCS/LC rareship against the current.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? (gestures vaguely at my entire folder of WIPs. weeps loudly.) tbh talking too much about my WIPs or even giving them a serious title until they're most-of-the-way finished feels like giving them the kiss of death. i'm not superstitious but i'm like a little stitious, you know?

What are your writing strengths? given that my entire writing process feels kind of like banging my head against a wall while crying: hard to say! i'm told i'm good with conveying tension though. in terms of characterization, insufferable theatrical magnificent bastards.

What are your writing weaknesses? long plotty fic and me are not friends. my pacing can be a bit mood whiplash-y at times. i abuse italics and semicolons like they're going out of fashion.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? depends on the cultural context of the canon, the purpose for doing so, etc... like pretty much anything else, it can be used to good effect, or it can be really grating. i think things like honorifics and terms that don't have a good 1:1 english translation are pretty much fine.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? idk probably some pokemon OC thing when i was like ten years old? in terms of fic completed and posted online, elder scrolls.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? (shoving numerous WIPs back into my folder) does NiF count? i haven't finished anything for it yet... in terms of canons i haven't touched at all, maybe sha po lang. i read the entire thing in one long weekend while house-sitting for a friend and i'm still not sure if it was good or if it just hit all my kinks just right, but either way there's probably something to work with here.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? it's also a WIP (mostly written, just lacking a solid ending) and it's utter self-indulgent nonsense designed to appeal to no one but me but: i'm very fond of how to deflower your martial brother (wo jia dashixiong naozi you keng). hanahaki disease, fucky shixiong/shidi relations, horrible pun in the title: these are a few of my favourite things.

tagging! @shararan @strandedchesspiece @foxofninetales @sinni-ok-sessi @junemermaid @melodious-tear @thebansacredbanned and anyone else who's interested (no pressure ofc!)

[autumnslance]

Writing To Yourself

(Mileage may vary, I'm not your mom nor your teacher--unless you're working for a specific state healthcare service, anyway.)

That's how you garden. Tend the plot. Plant a million seeds, reap a thousand blooms. The rest? Compost for the next crop. -@biot08 / @driftward

During a Discord convo, I thought about why so many fandom writers catch “writer’s block”, and some of it goes back to self-care and taking in new media, getting inspiration and knowledge, covered in this post. But much of it?

People think everything they create has to be publishable for others’ consumption. That is Not True. Too often we don't want to write things just for the sake of writing them, falling into the trap of thinking it needs to be perfectly polished and shared, but No It Really Doesn't.

Folks talk about “writing for oneself” but in terms of posting finished pieces of the kinds they want to see. If everything feels like it “has to be” publishable, it can start to put too much pressure on oneself. And then there’s your block, especially if the type to worry about how others Perceive you and your art.

Try simply writing anything and deciding later if it's something you want to share. I have pieces I wrote cuz my brain suddenly said it wanted to, but that writing isn't posted anywhere. Usually it’s random lines; out of context sentences, scenes, or bits of dialogue. Sometimes just incoherent character rambling. Ideas for situations and what ifs. Misspelled, typos, not grammatical, redundant wording, passive voice, bad POV, too many adverbs, not enough active verbs, not enough description, too much description, etc. All in notebooks or doc files. I’ve shared the (now out-dated) deep nests of my WIPs folders and the multiple, unfinished, unpolished pieces within them. Most will never be completed nor seen by the public. 

For instance, I've a random smut fic of a Highlander Warrior of Light and the popular antagonist of Shadowbringers. I'm not usually a villain liker, but one day it hit my brain, so I wrote it. I have notes and outlines for the rest of their story and how it plays out, though I'll probably never write more. I scratched the writing itch, stretched some skills, considered things from a different angle, and now it sits in drafts (I did post a couple decent-ish smut lines to my private Twitter once).

Mostly, it's practice. Even if it's junk and janky.

“But I have (professionally) published X or Y…”

Still gotta exercise the writing muscles! Still gotta scrawl off something utterly unusable now and again for the heck of it!

All those random lines, descriptions, scenes, rambles? Maybe I'll use them someday. I wrote them down to feel the pen in my hand or keys clacking under my fingers, to see the words pop onto the page or screen, to play with word choice, sentence structures, and “how would they say that?” For my own satisfaction, no one else’s.

When I get bored or stuck, or need a screenshot or writing prompt response, I might poke at those lines, pages, rambles, and see if they hit now or spin off to something else. They often don’t. But sometimes they help inform other things I do post to the public later. Even if that’s just a Question of the Day prompt response on Twitter.

(That also counts as writing and creating btw; you’re still coming up with something to share about your characters and I think that’s very creative of you.)

If the mood strikes, write. Even if it's just a vague idea--especially if it's any bits of dialogue or description, if it's something you think that you actually do want to write when off work or out of bed or whatever.

Even if you never post it anywhere public. Even if it never gets out of crummy first draft, unfinished pages form. It might feel like pulling teeth and look rough, especially if it’s been awhile.

But still write it. No one else has to know or see. Not until you want them to.

Maybe parts of it will inform something you do finish later. Maybe two years from now another prompt will hit just right and you’ll dig out that draft and finish it for posting. Maybe you’ll cannibalize aspects of it for an entirely different piece. Maybe you’ll even use it in a few more years to see how far you’ve come as a writer.

In many cases? That's how you actually keep writer's block away. Keeping ideas around to steal from yourself, letting yourself write nonsense, unpublishable bits and pieces, maybe even whole pages, just for the heck of it, if writing is something one enjoys and wants to stick with as a hobby (or professionally). If you don’t enjoy writing for fun? Don’t force it; do little character prompts and blurbs as they feel right, and find the ways to share creativity that work for you.

And seriously, don’t forget to take in new media, experiences, and information. This is How You Lose the Time War got me writing on an original story I shelved last autumn. The stories aren't at all alike! But seeing new words in new ways helped shake something loose in my brain. So try to make some time for that, too.

Write to yourself, not for others’ consumption. Public posting is great for validation and encouragement, for when we feel the urge to share due to pride or just wanting to gush about our faves. But also let yourself remember why you liked creating worlds, making up stuff about your characters, and writing at all to begin with, without the pressure of public posting. Give yourself some grace, and let it all be messy, unhinged, misspelled, ungrammatical, incomplete, and make no narrative sense.

Write to yourself, for yourself. Then let the rest follow.

[sheirukitriesfandom]

WIP Whenever

@miraakulous-cloud-district tagged me to share some of my writing (Thank you 😀).

Since I don't want to spoil ACoS and don't have any worthwhile excerpts from my active WIPs I haven't posted already, have something from ye olde "Ideas I will get to someday, I swear" folder.

Tagging (writing or artwork): @elavoria @nostalgic-breton-girl @friend-of-giants @alma-amentet @katastronoot @the-sunlit-earth @skyrim-forever

Spoilers for my version of the CoW questline. Also, there's a placeholder left in there because I still couldn't be bothered. Sorry 😬

With muffled steps, Rethul snuck in through the door, past the garden and around the wall behind which the archmage's bed was located.

In a chair next to it, Rashkan sat motionless except for his thumb stroking the back of archmage Aren's hand. He was mummified with blankets, sleeping, his head and neck wrapped in bandages and stabilized by some ungodly healer's contraption. 

"Good evening," Rethul whispered, feeling as though his voice could do even more damage.

"What do you want?" Rashkan hissed, granting him not a single glance. 

Rethul moved closer and carefully sat down at the foot of the bed—that did earn him a glare, one that would have made Alduin himself quiver with fear.

"How's he doing?" Rethul nodded at the archmage. "Not gonna croak, I hope."

[Something something if looks could kill] 

"Part of his neck cracked when he hit the ground. Colette fused and stabilized the bones as best as she could but… The brain, nerves—such complex things; even the most skilled of healers are likely to do more harm than good should they choose to meddle with them. And if there is internal bleeding…" Rashkan sighed. He looked tired—regardless of whether the undead felt tiredness at all; that was a question Rethul would ask at a later time. "If he ever wakes," Rashkan continued, "there is a good chance he will suffer lasting damage. Alas, Do not pretend you are asking for his sake."

Rethul flicked his tongue. Of course he was not here for the archmage's sake; the man had caused him more trouble than the damn Imperial Legion.

"Rude and sharp as always, I see. You're correct though, I've come to ask for help."

"No."

"You don't even know what I was gonna ask."

"Yet my answer persists."

"But—But someone needs to help me survive Mzulft. Mirabelle's request, ya know. Gotta track down the Synod. Can't do that if I die to a bear or bandit on the way. C'mon we were a good team at Fellglow Keep."

"If you are too weak to handle miniscule distractions such as wolves or bears on your own, ask the students or one of the erudites. I am going nowhere and that decision is final."

Rashkan's gaze wandered back to the sleeping archmage. There was a fondness in his eyes, a desperate plea that transcended words. Prickly as the grumpy vampire was, at least one person avoided getting stung. Somewhere in the back of Rethul's head, a voice demanded 100 Septims for winning a nonexistent bet.

[castlebyersafterdark]

OMG thats so funnny about the NEWS / REFERENCES because i chose a folder called JUST IN hahahhaa which is also like fresh news but nondescript enough? i think the letter 'j' is so forgettable and even i lose that folder in my long list of more interestingly-named bookmarks sometimes hahaha

it actually was from a prn star's name, justin, who was the first one i ever returned to more than once ;) i remember how shocked i was when i realised that wouldnt be his real name hahahha

as for downloading, youre braver than me! although i have always wanted to try that well-made prn youve gotta pay for. one day!

ah the story... a friend made a lame joke about the spotify playlist 'bedrooms jams' by luring their partner to the bedroom for some after hours fun and then it was just decorated with a line of flavoured jams on the windowsill. they said nothing and acted like this was normal sexy decor like strewn rose petals and candles lmao

as for my personal playlist, its called TOO GOOD (aptly named + named after the troye song, because that is THE vibe) thanks for being a good sport!

living room dancing is sooo dreamy, find you a man who is willing to dance and youre golden? have you guys ever gone to a ceilidh or one of those period drama cosplay evening dances? or a swing night? everyone dressed up like back to the future, its incredible!

but dancing it the living room (great maggie rogers song btw) is also beautiful, he sounds so perfect, i can't choose between either of you so its going to have to be a Z and vinny sandwich haha

Ha!! I thought News / References was pretty generic and wouldn't raise any interest - I mean, I don't know who's even getting into my shit for all these probably unnecessary levels of paranoia, it's not like I'm in a shared living situation anymore with a friend or family. Habit. And Z and I literally watch stuff together or send stuff to each other on the regular - but then again, it's not like he's using my laptop and digging into my files, and neither me to him. It's the principle of the thing!! It's outta pocket to keep it easy access, out in the open. Needs to be stashed somewhere haha.

Downloading is a must, I don't want to lose favorites if videos or sites disappear someday! I save so much from the internet in general, digital hoarder. But I have safeguards up for a lot - big time 🏴‍☠️ for movies and TV, video games, etc. Which we pay for, too. But! I have never paid for prn. Even that good, fancy classy stuff there are ways of getting around and finding. Sometimes. Usually a lot of effort but sometimes - worth it heehee.

LOVE the jam story, too funny. That is so my sense of humor, I love that. And TOO GOOD!! Love that as well.

Ahhh, our living room dancing. Not gonna lie, I do feel the need to pinch myself sometimes. He's so classy!! My dear old soul. I don't really feel the draw and appeal of some club or big party much anymore. I just need his record player and the coffee table pushed to the wall with the lights dimmed and only one person looking at me. Growth 💙 Though - your suggestions sound very interesting!! I feel like some sort of themed thing could be cool if I could find something like that, I'm sure it's around. A chill and cool bar we like does disco nights and a lot of karaoke - but swing dancing or some other event would be fun! A middle ground for both of us.

And ending with me metaphorically blushing like crazy. Oh my!! 😳🫣 Genuinely flattering. Giving very "we saw you from across the blog and really dig your vibe" kinda energy hahaha 🥪🥪🥪 😘

[andieperrie18]

moral of the story (batfamily x batmom reader)

Inspire by moral of the story by ashe

So I never really knew you, God I really tried to

Loving Bruce wasn't hard. I have a lot of love to give and I gave myself to him unconditionally and thought that I he'll learn to love me someday. There were times that he would open up to me about things and his children. I did everything I could to help him, from taking care and raising the children he adopted, loving them like they are mine, to supporting his nightly routine.

"Aren't you father's wife, why aren't you sleeping in the same bed with him?" asked little Damian as I tucked him to his bed.

It's surprising to everyone that I was the first to tame the blood child of Bruce but I didn't really know how I did it too. Same as all of Bruce's children. I guess I just loved them all equally as a mother would wth her own child.

He wasn't the first child to ask me that, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass and Duke did aswell but I didn't have the heart to tell them that I was hoping to be one day worthy to sleep beside him.

I was talking with my lawyer, saying where'd you find this guy

Said young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes

I can't even move a muscle. My eyes were just staring at the blank line marked with an X and beside it was another line but filled with the perfect signature of my husband.

"I'm really sorry Y/n," I heard my lawyer/childhood bestfriend mutter to my side. I took a glance at her, teeth gritted and a frown blossomed on her face.

"Fei, its really ok-","OKAY?! HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT Y/N?!! YOU LOVED HIM FIRST!! YOU SAYING THAT YOU ARE REALLY LETTING HIM GO TO A S--"

"Fei, please. Don't make this harder. I don't need you to tell 'I said so' or 'you should have listened to me'. I don't even know how to tell my kids abou this so please don't make it harder for me..." I could feel my voice breaking with both my hands holding my torso cause I can't even read the contents of the papers placed before my eyes.

She finally stopped walking in circles from my pheripheral vision for a moment then pulled the chair she was sitting on earlier close to me. Then next I felt her pull my head to her until I was nuzzling my unmake-up face to her white office shirt.

That night, I walked down to the batcave where Bruce was. Alfred was there as well and didn't fail to greet me with a warm smile. But he saw the manila folder I held and it made the smile on his face disappear in a blink. I made my way to the man I once called my husband. He wasn't alone.

In his Batman uniform, his lips was sealed in a loving kiss by the only woman he had ever loved from the start. The very woman I can never compete for his heart.

Selina immediately notice my presence and pulled away from Bruce. She loved him. She really did, I guess that's enough assurance that Bruce will be okay. His world will keep turning with or without me in it.

Bruce turned to where she was looking to meet my pained smile. He put himself before her, it made my heart ache a lot more. Whe I got to them, I didn't let him speak as I gently handed the envelope I had. Judging how his face turned from concerned to guilty, he already knows what's inside.

"I just wanna say something to her, I won't her,"

He didn't speak but moved aside and I was face to face with Selina. I could tell with the way she avoids my gaze, she is guilty with my state. With slightly shaking hands, I took her hands.

Some mistakes get made, it's alright it's okay

You can think that you're inlove, when you're really just in pain

third person

"I know that he loves you and no matter how much love I give him, It won't come to that amount on how much you love him," despite the stutter at the end of the sentence, Y/n kept he chin up.

Bruce was silent but he knew what he did was eating him inside. His guilt was prowling beast ready to swallow him up at that running second. He was the one fueling it as well as regret grew. He understood this act was the cause of his heartlessness but in his mind he knew that Y/n didn't believe that.

What was worse at that moment and had made his guilt grow a lot more was winessing how his now ex-wife acted. Instead of rampaging, she acted civil and collected.

"I won't bother the both of you, all I ask is that you take care of my children,"

With that, she left the couple alone. They were silent but something screamed louder in it.

"Ummi?" Y/n's head shot up as her eyes found Damian who was rubbing his eyes as he had just woke up from a nap. The woman put a smile and walked to the boy, taking her in her arms carrying him. Damian didn't mind this gesture from her as he had grown custom to his only motherly figure in the house. The only woman he will recognize as his mother at the bottom of his heart.

"Hey baby D, why you up? It's half past bed time," Damian leaned his head tiredly on Y/n's shoulder and mumbled, "I'm hungry Ummi,"

Unknown to the boy that his sudden presence was what his mother needed at the moment of rock bottom. With a stuttering voice, she agreed to do the boy's request. Y/n walked to the kitchen with a slow pace while holding Damian close as if someone would try to take him away from her.

That night, she baked a lot of chocolate chip cookies because Damian wasn't the only one who came. Dick came with Jason and Tim after a tight shift in Patrol. They all shared about how their days went before Cass and Duke followed in and entered the last bonding they'll have with their mother.

They say it's better to have loved and lost

To have never have loved at all

Damian fell asleep on the island and Y/n took the liberty to take him to his room. But before he could leave, the slight pull on the hem of her shirt stopped her. She spun her head slowly to meet all of her children's lowered heads and sad faces. They already know.

"Mom I--…We...--" her eldest began his bright blue eyes turning glossy as every second pass, trying to form the right words he wants to say. He always knew what to do when it comes tips and advices for people like a typical therapist as Jason joked but for the first time, even he can't think of anything to do to ease the second special woman next to his biological mother, "Richard, sweet heart…"

The boy didn't finish but rushed towards her and his sibling followed, crowding over her. Y/n welcomed the comfort of the children she come to treasure in her heart. They all head to the living room and continued to crowd Y/n. Damian innocently slept as you cradle him to your chest, Jason and Cass occupied your sides, Tim rested himself beside you legs, Dick held his mother's hand resting in top of Jason's thighs as he no longer minded it, Duke sat at the opposite side of Tim and Stephanie sat beside Cass. All of them stayed up staring into thin air hoping tomorrow wouldn't come.

that could be a load of shit

but I just gotta tell you all

your pov

"U-ummi please…please…."

The weight on my shoulder doubled as I weakly tried to removed Damian's arms wrapped around my waist, his hand clinging to the thick beige sweater I wore to sheild me from the cold wind. I can't even breath with all my sobbing and I can't even see straight with all the free falling down from my eyes and cheeks.

"Damian baby, Ummi has to go," I tried to say straight.

As much as I wanted to shove Damian away so that I won't get caught and cornered up byhis siblings because if I do, it'll make leaving a lot harder than it is.

some mistakes get made, it's alright, its okay

third person

Turns out Y/n did all the things in one day. After signing papers, she had her bestfriend book her a flight to a foreign country. She will need a lot of alone time to contemplate and digest her current situation. Before she head to the cave, she had already packed her things for her flight. Everyone except Damian saw the bags waiting near the entrance. They would have rushed to talked her out when they found her happily talking with their youngest sibling like nothing happened that whole day. They all silently and mentally agreed that their mother needed this, Y/n needed this. Alfred couldn't bear the sad faces in the living room. Bruce didn't bother to come out his room after Selina have left. He can't face her. You don't derserve to see the man who betrayed you.

Dick and Jason was the first to wake when Damian's loud voice boomed outside the house. And soon everyone woke and they all head to the open doors. What they saw woke them to reality. Their aunt Fei's car was parked at the Drive way and beside is was Y/n and Damian, the latter latched on the woman's waist.

No one had the guts to walk over you two and pull the sobbing child on her mother's waist.

"I don't want her, I want you!!" the boy cried. Damian had never cried that much before. He was using all his strength to stop Y/n from entering the vehicle.

Y/n stopped struggling as she finally bursted to fits of sobs and collapsed in front of Damian who pulled her into his tight embrace. Both crying their hearts out.

"Don't leave," he repeated over and over as he buried his face on her neck. "I love you Ummi,"

"Damian, Baby I'm really Sorry. I am so sorry, I love you baby so much," Damian slowly collapse in her arms and Y/n dropped the sleep sedative she hid in her pockets if Damian ever find out. Continous sobs left her as her Dick came to her and took Damian from her arms. She hugged her eldest tightly, Jason followed with few tears escaping his own eyes, then Tim and so on.

Alfred who had been hidden by the crowd of her children walked to her. Y/n didn't hesitate to hug the old man who cried silently.

Y/n hopped inside the car and watched her children sad and crying faces but mostly to unconscious boy held by her eldest child.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Heirs

I almost didn’t post this because I really just wrote it on a whim after my Dad Tim & Uncle Rhys shorts made me wonder what it’d be like for Tim if Jack had another kid. So, here’s a snapshot take on that idea! 

Tim wondered when the bizarre life he was living had become normal to him.

There was the whole being a doppelganger working for the world’s biggest psychopath part of it, of course. But if you’d told him years ago he was going to be, essentially, a nanny for the psychopath he was a doppelganger of, he would’ve laughed in your face.

Now, he just scooped the beer he’d been drinking off the coffee table and tossed it up on the counter where kids couldn’t reach. He kicked his dirty laundry under his bed and took a quick look around to make sure nothing of imminent danger was left lying about. 

He’d been horrified when Jack accidentally got Nisha pregnant. Even more horrified when Nisha decided to keep the kid. The last thing the galaxy needed was a mini Jack/Nisha running around.

The horror had grown to an overwhelming amount when Jack decided to use Tim to look after the kid when he was too busy to do it himself. 

Tim had absolutely dreaded it, waiting for the kid to get old enough to use him as a punching bag or torment him the way Jack did. No way the offspring of Handsome Jack and Nisha Kadam would ever have a kind bone in their body. 

There was a knock on the door and Tim called out a lazy, “Come in.”

The door opened and in bound a small boy who was a disturbing mix of Jack and Nisha. His tutor followed behind him.

“His homework,” the tutor said, handing a folder to Tim. “I had permission to take him on a bit of a field trip today, so he never napped. I’d either let him sleep an hour now, or else start that homework early and let him go to bed earlier than usual.”

“Jack’s got him for bedtime,” Tim said, taking the folder. “If he’s cranky by then, it’s not my problem.”

The tutor shrugged and left Tim’s apartment. Tim tossed the folder down.

“Liam!” he called as the boy took off for the kitchen. “Come start your homework.”

It was a minute before Liam reappeared with a juice box and a small bag of chips. He shook his head at Tim, thick black hair tumbling across his forehead.

“Nu-uh, Uncle Timmy! I gotta see Angel! I gotta!” He shot Tim his wide-eyed look, which seemed to work on every adult except Tim. “Please. I gotta.”

Tim pointed. “Homework. Or it’s my ass your dad will beat.”

He abandoned the wide-eyed look and instead settled for an imitation of Jack’s stern look. “I gotta see Angel.”

“Nah, kid,” Tim said. “You gotta do your homework.”

“I’ll bring it,” he tried. “Please, Uncle Timmy!”

Tim sighed heavily. But Liam didn’t get to see his sister often, and he knew Angel was probably his only sane family member.

“Fine. But you don’t get to throw a fit later when you’re tired and you have to finish your work,” Tim said, snatching the folder up, knowing full well that Liam wouldn’t touch it while they were visiting Angel but needing to try anyways. “Let’s go.”

A bright smile broke out on Liam’s face, so happy and pure. Tim hated that he still held out hope that the kid would be better than his parents someday. 

But Liam launched forward, throwing his little arms as far around Tim’s waist as he could. “You’re the best, Uncle Timmy!” 

“Yea, yea,” Tim said, taking his hand and leading him out of the apartment.

They went to the nearest fast travel station. Tim set it for the Bunker, being one of the only people authorized to fast travel there now that he was so often in charge of Liam.

It had been horrifying to learn Jack was going to have a child. Even more so to learn that his baby with Nisha wouldn’t be his first. 

But Tim had adjusted slowly to Angel. As they flashed inside her chamber, he was heartbroken but used to the sight of her and the Eridium injectors hooked into her body.

This poor girl. Tim tightened his hold on Liam’s hand, wondering if he could secure a better fate for Jack’s second child.

“Timothy,” she said in surprise. “Liam.”

“Angel!” Liam released Tim’s hand to run forward. “Angel, I went on a field trip today!”

“Did you?” she said, so easily able to hide the jealousy she no doubt felt. She was trapped here, doomed to die without Eridium, while her little brother got to experience the world. 

Liam nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh. We went to see skags! But they were, um, they were...d...d...d-something.”

“Domesticated?” Tim offered.

“Yea!” Liam was nodding eagerly again. “I got to see all kinds’a skags and stuff. And- And there was this one guy and one of the skags bit him.” He laughed at the thought, Tim and Angel sharing a look. The signs that Jack and Nisha were getting to him were glaringly obvious at times. “He started cryin’, like a baby.”

“Well, it probably hurt,” Angel said. “You shouldn’t laugh at people when they get hurt. It’s mean.”

He ignored that, still laughing. “I petted one! They felt all weird and gross.”

“You pet one,” Tim said. “‘Petted’ isn’t a word, kid. This is why you need to do your homework.”

Liam ignored that, too. “And there were baby skags! Mr. Wilson let me name one!”

“What’d you call it?” Angel said.

He was basically vibrating with excitement. “Angel! I named her Angel!” 

Tim and Angel shared another look. He could tell she still held out hope for him, too.

“That was really nice of you, Liam,” she said softly. Tim couldn’t quite read the expression on her face; it might’ve been pain, or sadness, or love. Maybe it was all of them. He looked away rather than suffer trying to interpret it.

“They made her a collar with her name on it!” Liam said. “I’m gonna ask daddy to give her a bodyguard so she’s always safe.”

Tim closed his eyes, clenching his fists. He hated his own hope. He hated it so much, because he knew this boy’s kindness would never survive.

Angel had to take a moment before speaking again. “I hope she gets to grow up strong and see the whole world.”

“I’m gonna take a picture next time we see her. Mr. Wilson said I can see her again!” he said. “I’ll show you the picture.” He hesitated, looking anxious. “And maybe daddy will let you come see her. I’m gonna tell him she’s named after you. So maybe he’ll let you come with me next time.”

“I would love that,” Angel said, because it was honest and it was kinder than the reality of telling him why she couldn’t. “I really would, Liam.” 

He pressed his hand to the chamber enclosing her. She pressed hers to it as well, so little separating them, so much separating them. His hand was so tiny, swallowed up by the image of hers against it. His bright blue eyes met hers, their most striking shared feature they’d inherited from the man who kept them apart. 

“Tell me more about your trip,” she said, only the faintest tremor to her words. “I want to hear everything.”

His smile was huge. He went on and on about his trip and everything he saw, sometimes getting so excited that he’d repeat himself. But Angel never pointed it out, and neither did Tim. They let him carry on, swooping in with questions when he seemed ready to stop talking.

Finally, though, his lack of a nap caught up with him. Tim was sitting on the ground, and Liam went over, crawling into Tim’s lap as his yawns grew more frequent. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

“Please, Timothy,” Angel said quietly, her eyes fixed on her brother. “I have no chance. But he does. Look out for him.”

“I’m trying,” Tim said, looking down at the small child in his lap. 

“When dad told me Nisha had a boy, I was so happy. It meant he would never share my fate,” Angel said, looking away from them both. “But he can use Liam in other ways.”

“Angel,” Tim said. “Did you pick his name?”

Angel nodded. “Yes. Dad let me pick his name.” She gave a weak smile. “He hated what I chose. But I just...It means ‘protector’. I want...I want him to be a force of good in the world, Timothy.”

She could’ve been, too. But Jack had locked her away and used her for his own selfish gain.

“I’ll do everything I can to keep him from being the fucking nightmare his parents are,” Tim promised.

That earned a surprised laugh from Angel. “Thank you. I wish I could take care of him myself. I’m glad Jack chose to trust you with him. You’re a good man.”

“That’s debatable these days, but I’m at least a better man than Jack,” Tim said. He bit his lip. “I can, uh, bring him here more often. If you want.”

That look in her eyes he couldn’t read again. “Yes. Thank you, Timothy. I would like that a lot.” 

They fell silent after that. Angel watched her brother sleep. Tim thought about how unfair the world was.

He’d seen Jack interact with both his children. Tim believed Jack did love both of them. But Tim also believed that when Jack loved something, he felt compelled to break its will so he could control it. After all, a thing could never leave him if he shackled it to him.

Tim and Angel did not wake Liam, even when Tim’s legs fell asleep from the position the little boy was in, and even when Jack called to see where they were. Waking him meant bringing him back to Helios, back to everyone who had a plan for him, who wanted to chip away at his kindness to make way for cunning and cruelty. 

Angel wanted to tell Tim everything, but she refused to put him at risk. She knew it would all be over soon; she would betray her father and help the Crimson Raiders defeat him. Jack would die, and so would she. She only hoped Tim fled with Liam and raised him.

Handsome Jack had stolen freedom and any hope of a normal life from Angel. She would not let him do the same to her brother.

So they sat in silence. It was the calm before the storm, and they knew it. But there was nothing to do now, so Tim stayed beside Angel’s prison and let Liam sleep, the only comfort he could offer the children Jack had damned. 

[swarmkeepers]

fic writer interview

tagged by: @myclericalromance and @nonbinarywithaknife, two writers (and friends) whom i admire so much, thank you!! <3

name: you can call me sola! mordredmanor on here, SolaSola on ao3

fandoms: it’s full speed ahead dimension 20 rn but i’ve written for ngozi ukazu’s omg check please! and e. jade lomax’s beanstalk trilogy in the past! both of them are still unfinished oops and maybe someday if i can actually think of ideas i will finish them but i have fallen in far too deep with d20

where you post: fics are all on ao3 and i try to crosspost tumblr meta there if it starts to approximate fic! i don’t post full fics on tumblr though

most popular oneshot: far and away a soft and heavy weight (i never really know what makes a fic “popular” but it has the most hits, kudos, and bookmarks so this one is pretty easy lol), which makes me happy because i still adore it, literally just 5k of gorgug and zelda sharing hoodies that’s it 

most popular multi-chapter: only one d20 multichapter lol so it’s almost by default actualize (the first attack) my d20bb fic! gorgug/zelda/ragh mutual pining/shenanigans/groupchat textfic during a game of assassins

fics you were nervous to post: my bb fic might qualify, but i think by the time i got to posting i was more relieved/excited for ppl to finally get to read it than nervous, though i was definitely nervous in the week running up as i scrambled to finish it. genuinely, though, i think i’m most nervous to post gift fics like slow fall / otherworldly leap and nightcap (just fall in the bed) bc i never know if i’ve written something the recipient will like!!

how do you choose your titles: rule number one is it’s gotta be three or four words MINIMUM and all lowercase that’s just how it’s gotta be but otherwise i love a good quote from the source material or a song lyric. bonus points if there’s a parenthetical somewhere or the lyric crosses a line break

do you outline: i don’t think anyone would call it an outline but i do do notes before i start writing anything! usually it’s little snatches of dialogue or what will eventually become the summary or a numbered list from 1 to 6 if it’s a 5+1. i did have a longer outline for my bb fic but my artist partner + beta could tell you that there were three separate outlines as i started cutting stuff out lol

favorite story i’ve written so far: stream this is me trying it was so cathartic to write, seven maidens rights!

complete: all of them :D (for d20 anyway) i have learned from previous fandoms that i am not to be trusted with multichap fics

in progress: none :D again i truly cannot be trusted with an update schedule or multichaps

coming soon: i think i’m gonna let myself chill for a while after d20bb and d20december exchange which were truly so fun BUT i do have a couple of wips in the folder including a 5+1 rickyesther, some brainstorming abt transracial adoptee/diaspora!gorgug whom i adore dearly (and who my d20december gift has made me newly excited about!), and of course more seven maidens/zelda thoughts! i gotta say though, the fics i love the most are the ones i spent less than 24 hours on that just come to me spontaneously, so maybe an ep of tuc2 soon will inspire something :D

prompts: oh my god yes please my inbox is always open, and i think i’m gonna try to reblog more prompt memes + work on some if new ones come through the tuc prompt meme in 2021! i love doing prompts they are always welcome!

tagging: i’m not 100% sure who hasn’t been tagged already but please please feel free to do this meme and say i tagged you if you want! i’ll tag @supercantaloupe @aelwynrights @lizznotliz @frill-shark

[thranduilsperkybutt]

So Much For My Happy Ending

Gif source:  1  |  2  |  3

Imagine being the reason Detective Loki doesn’t have a partner.

Pairings:  Detective David Loki/Reader

Warnings:  Angst, some fluff; language; flashbacks/time-skips; I am not a cop so probably incorrect cop-jargon!!!

Word Count:  5,017 words

Reader Gender:  Female

Author:  Meg

Summary:  A series of blurbs that tell the story of how and why Detective Loki doesn’t have a partner.

A/N:  Uhm? My hand slipped?? And I’m crying??? I’m sorry????

“No.”

“No?” Captain O’Malley scoffs, and David feels his eye tick with the annoyance of it all. “You need a partner, Loki. Fucks sake, just take Carter, or Wedge! Hell, take anyone with you; I don’t care!”

“All due respect, go fuck yourself, Captain,” David huffs, not flinching when the older man slams his hand against the desk in front of him, before pointing angrily at him.

“Fuck you! I’m gonna’ let that slide this once, considering what happened, but it’s been a year, Loki! You know damn well you’re gonna’ have to partner up again someday,” O’Malley’s voice softens, but only slightly, as he continues. “Look. losing her was hard on the whole department, but I can’t have you runnin’ around without having some kinda’ backup---”

Loki shakes his head, the collar of his shirt feeling a bit too tight as he swallows, mind racing with memories he’d rather forget, as he turns to leave the office he hadn’t wanted to enter in the first place, “I don’t need a partner, Captain.”

Had it really been a year ago?

~

“I don’t need a partner, Captain,” David spoke behind a mouthful of one of the donuts that Sandy from dispatch had left in the break room. His desk was a crime scene in itself, files and folders scattered in the aggressive beginnings of a new investigation. He chases the bite of what had quickly become sugary mush with his coffee, bitter and hot as it slicks down his throat, rasping his voice when he adds, “Especially not some kid.”

“I’m sorry, did that sound like a fuckin’ request, Loki?” O’Malley rolls his eyes, “You’ve got a new partner, starting today, and I expect you to show her the ropes.”

“Don’t got much of a choice,” he shoots back, setting his coffee on one of the rare clean spaces of his desk, before O’Malley nods in authoritative satisfaction.

“You don’t,” his captain was smiling, annoying David, but they both knew there was nothing to be done about it. He had managed to get out of partnering up for this long solely due to the odd number of detectives and officers, and this was the remedying of that issue in the department.

David leans back in his chair as O’Malley abandons him, jaw clenched as he tries to focus on the photos that peeked from one of the folders. His jaw ticks. He can’t focus. Black dress pants come into his peripheral, but he pays it little attention until a soft clearing of the throat can be heard to his left.

“Detective Loki?”

When he lays eyes on you for the first time, he can’t help but notice how skittish you looked. Like you didn’t want to bother him. He takes a sip of his coffee, just to make you wait. Just to see how you reacted.

You shift on your feet, offering an awkward chuckle, before introducing yourself, “I believe we’re assigned to be partners.” You offered him your hand to shake, as he set his coffee back down. “It’s nice to meet you, Detective.”

You looked like a damn teenager, he thought.

“Loki,” he takes your small hand with his larger one, pleasantly surprised at the firmness of your grip, before releasing it.

“Huh?”

“Just, call me Loki.”

~

Your ice broke far sooner than his did. At the end of the first week, he had read you like an open book, but that hadn’t been too hard with how easily you opened up in the passenger seat of his car. You talked, while he mostly listened, and before he knew it, you had slipped under his skin.

You were bright eyed and bushy tailed and everything that he wasn’t. You freely told him about the house you grew up in and what you did on your time off. You invited him to drinks after work and dinners that he would refuse, but admittedly you were wearing him down.

Then, one day you look at him, mouth half-full of a bite of the burger you’d made him run through the drive-thru and get before you started this stake out, finger dancing briefly along the collar of his shirt, skin barely grazing his neck, “So, do you wear this up so tight because of the policy?”

David pulls from your touch, far more astonished by it than you seemed to be. You had touched him like it was the most natural thing to do, like you were close friends, not thinking a second thought about it before you reached over and did it. His hand landed on his collar, right where your fingers had once brushed, and he was pretty damn sure that he was fucking blushing just a little bit.

“What?” he asks, as you sip the large drink, clearly unaware of his shock.

“The collar,” you point, before taking another sip, “Do you button it all the way because of the dress policy regarding tattoos?” His hand pulls his collar up somewhat, right where his neck tattoo had peeked out, as he looks back to the house he was supposed to be watching. A frown etches onto his face as a grin blossoms on your own, “Because if it is, I think it’s pretty obvious you have tattoos already, Loki. I mean, you got ‘em on your knuckles, so you’d have to wear gloves, too---”

“I don’t care about the fuckin’ policy,” Loki huffs.

“Oh, so it’s for fashion, then?” you tease, catching the side of a glance that sends you giggling in the seat beside him. The way you lean over, to nudge his bicep slightly, has him cracking a smile, “You a fashionista, Loki?”

“Yeah, that’s it. It’s for the fashion,” he throws back, sarcasm lacing his tone, but you only grin wider at him, spotting the curve of his lips as he tugs his beanie down snugly on his head.

“Nah, see, I don’t think you are. Don’t you wanna’ know how I deduced that you’re not a fashionista, Loki?” you wiggle your brows at him, and he rolls his eyes hard.

“I don’t.”

“Don’t you want to hear my stunning detective work?”

“Really, no.”

“Here it is,” you breathe deeply, catching his attention as you lean towards him, like you were about to share a secret that only he could hear. He catches himself leaning forward slightly, only to get poked in the chest as you grin wickedly, “You don’t own a single tie, do ya’, Loki?” Leaning back in your seat, you shrug as if you had solved it, “Case. Closed.”

He groans, while you snort, but his smile lingers, “I own a fucking tie.”

~

His ice melted, slowly, but with the inevitability of an iceberg in the ocean. About four months in, he finally agreed to dinner after a rough shift that had nearly ended in you getting a black eye, and him getting stabbed in a strip club parking lot.

The Waffle House was like a yellow beacon of hope in the hazy fog of what was technically the early morning, and Loki collapsed into the hard booth much like you did.

“It’s fuckin’ cold,” you grumble across from him, sniffing harshly. The beginning of an oncoming cold, if the Mucinex that rested in his backseat was anything to go by.

His eye ticks as he grabs a menu, despite already knowing what he wanted to eat, “You should know by now to bring a jacket with you.”

“What are you, my mom?” you quip, and he shoots you a look. You stick your tongue out at him, and he frowns to hide how endearing he found you.

“I can’t believe I’m partners with a fuckin’ child,” he teases you right back, and you make a point of ignoring him when the waitress comes to take your order.

“Ya’ know,” you grin, eyes sliding to peer back at him when he tucks his menu back where it came from, “if you were a gentleman, you’d give me your parka.”

He chuckles, making a show of zipping his parka as you frown at him, “What makes you think I’m a gentleman, kid?” The waitress sits down your coffee. You take yours with too much sugar and creme, he’s come to memorize, as he sips at his own.

“Right,” you scoff, but there’s a joke behind the faux edge to your tone, “what was I thinking? Your coffee’s as black as your soul, Loki.”

“Why do you even order coffee?” he hides his smirk behind another sip, “It’s all just milk.”

The night goes on like that, as you pour over your waffle while he takes his eggs and bacon. Banter back and forth that almost makes him forget the ordeal of the shift before. He laughs more than he used to, he realizes, when you have him nearly in stitches at around two in the morning, half your meals gone and the diner nearly all to yourselves.

“Nuh-uh,” he snatches up the ticket, right as the waitress sets it down and he spots your hand reach for it, “I got it.” He’s fishing out his wallet as you protest, calling him all sorts of things that are laced with giggles.

“Yeah, well, I’m gettin’ the next one!” you challenge, downing the rest of the coffee you had the horror of realizing was cold by now, when he stands to pay the check at the front. You come up behind him, tugging up at your belt and teasing by his ear as he gets rung up, “What was that you said about not bein’ a gentleman, Loki?”

By the time he glances back at you, cheeks flushed and brows furrowed, you’re halfway out the door and on the way back to his car

When he drives you home, he doesn’t let himself admit it’s as close to a date as he’s had in months.

~

“There’s just one thing I can’t figure out,” David starts, and you look back at him from the investigation board with wide, curious eyes.

“Just one?” you point your thumb towards the board, “I gotta’ couple things I can’t figure out about this one. Like, why cut out the eyes? Is it just because the sick fuck doesn’t wan’t them to look at him, or is it like a kinky thing---”

“Not about that,” he stops you with a wave of his hand, before leaning forward in his chair and pointing at you, squeezing the bright pink stress ball you had given him as a joke gift at Christmas--- it was surprisingly one of his favorite things he owned.

“What about then?”

“You--- what’s a girl like you doin’ in the police?” you frown at him, while he justifies his question, “Just saying, you’re an optimist. You think the best in people; even after all the fucked up shit you’ve seen with me on our beat, you still do, I can tell. I can’t get it.”

“Aw, Loki, don’t tell me you’re sayin’ I’m a ray of sunshine in your dull, pessimist life?”

He leans back in his seat with a roll of his eyes, squeezing the stress ball until his knuckles went white, “Forget I asked---”

~

You don’t tell him the answer until seven months as his partner. It was a bad night, and another cop had been shot in a shootout with a suspect. You’d been pressing at the crimson of his chest, feeling the disgustingly sticky feeling of his blood covering your fingers even through the jacket you’d pushed to the wound. He had died on the street, like a dog, and Loki had to pull you off of him to get you to stop your frenzied compressions when the paramedics came.

He had driven you home in stunned silence, and when he walked you into your apartment, that was the first time he saw it.

A cat meowed at his feet, as you walked past it numbly, like you’d seen a ghost. His hand reached for your shoulder, and you turned easily to face him.

“Hey, kid,” he begins, low, as it didn’t feel quite right to speak louder than the soft murmur between you, “where’s your bathroom?”

You point him in the direction, and he takes you by the hand, dried blood sticking to it despite how many times you wiped it on your pants. You let him lead you there, and follow his instruction to sit on your sink’s counter, while he rummages through your things to retrieve a couple towels. The sound of running water accompanies his rummaging, and before you know it, he’s pressing the soft baby blue into your hands, water dripping down your fingertips as his own scrub you clean of the blood there with your rag.

“They’ll stain,” you manage to whisper, and he frowns in concentration at a particularly stubborn bit of crusted blood at your nail.

“I’ll get you new ones,” he smiles, forced and solely for your benefit, “You won’t mind if they’re hot pink, right?”

That gets a soft laugh from you, just a huff of one, really, but it was there, “I think white would be a better choice. Could bleach those fuckers when I gotta’ wipe blood off my hands.”

“I don’t know, the hot pink has character,” he tries to sound light, but it doesn’t. He wets the rag again, blood flowing with the water down the sink. Wringing it out, he drags it along your jaw, and your eyes meet his.

His hand stills at the turmoil there, and your voice cracks as you murmur, “He was aiming at me. The bastard, was aiming at me--- Donahue has kids, Loki--- It shoulda’ been---”

When your voice chokes, Loki finds himself grasping you at the nape of your parka, pulling you into his chest as his hand smooths between your shoulder blades, “Hey, don’t you fuckin’ dare, you hear me? Don’t you dare say it shoulda’ been you.” He hears the shudder of a breath that escapes along his shoulder, feels the heat of your breath along his collar, and knows that he’s breaking so many policies by doing this right now, but he can’t bring himself to fucking care. He already knows he’s in too deep.

“It woulda’ been, if Donahue hadn’t got in front of me,” you whisper, soft and broken, and Loki knows you’re crying, but he’s not going to acknowledge it, for either of your sakes.

“It wasn’t, though. It wasn’t,” his voice sounds, for the life of him, far more stable than he feels right now, as he feels himself twitch, smoothing his hand along your hair in a way far gentler than was necessary. He lets your fingertips grip into his shirt as the sound of your soft, shuddering breaths and the running water fills the room, until you let him go and pull back, wiping at your eyes like you were embarrassed to have him see you cry.

“Damn, now you’re all bloody. Why’d ya’ let me mess your nice shirt up,” you shoot at him through a sniffle and a forced smile, which he returns as best he can.

“Eh, I never liked this one much, anyway,” he tugs at the collar, lying through his teeth. “Collar’s too tight, can barely breathe sometimes in it.”

“Maybe if you didn’t button it all the way like a Catholic priest, you could fucking breathe,” your laugh is airy, the tease on your lips relaxing his shoulders and giving him the time to focus his attention on the rag in the sink instead of the feeling it sends rushing through him that really shouldn’t be there for his partner, or a girl as young as you.

“I don’t think the rags are gonna’ cut it, kid,” he sighs, admitting defeat at the messy sight of your stained clothing, but the blood no longer clings to your hands or jaw.

“Yeah,” you sigh sadly, looking down at yourself and splaying your fingers, picking at your nails where he hadn’t been able to completely get beneath. “I need a full shower, and I’m pretty sure this shirt’s history.”

“Well,” he nods, drawing out the word as he tucks his hands into his pockets, “I ought to leave you to it, then.”

Before he can leave, though, you call out to him softly, “Hey, Loki?”

“Yeah,” he dares to look back at you, despite his better judgement.

Your fingers grip the edge of the counter, on either side of your thighs, as you tilt your head at him, “You wanted to know why I became a cop, right?”

He nods, fingers stopping on the door frame, as he leans against it.

“My dad,” you swallow, clearly choked up by the thought. “He was a cop. Damn good one, too.” You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, “Til one day, he didn’t come home, y’know? His partner came by the house, and of course my mom knew straight away what had happened, but I was so young. Just standing at the door, I keep asking him, ‘Where’s Daddy? When’s he coming home? Is he hurt?’ And my mom’s so tore up, crying already, she can’t catch her breath long enough to tell me.”

David was quiet, listening as you look to the ceiling to dry the tears welling up in your eyes, before you level yourself and continue, “Well, his partner pulls me aside, and gets on my level. Tells me everything--- how my dad’s not coming home, how a bad man killed him, and, you know, I think I knew right then that I wanted to try and stop that from happening to anyone else.” Your smile is bittersweet, as guilt reflects in your eyes, as easy a read as ever, “Guess I can’t even do that, though.”

He stands there for a beat, hesitation in his posture before he moves across the bathroom tile, guiding your eyes from it as his head dips. Consequences be damned.

His lips find your own, and you fit to each other like two pieces of the same broken puzzle. That’s the night he lets you find out what his tattoos really look like, and he finds out that you’re probably the thing he’s most scared of losing.

~

It’s when you’re laying on the couch with him, nine months into being his partner and about two months after becoming something more than that, that you ask him about them. He knew it was coming, but he hadn’t expected it to be when he was right on the verge of sleep, as an extremely boring rendition of Howard’s End played on the television--- you had a thing for shit like that, he found out. Your hand traced the star at his neck, slipping down to the hand he had resting on his chest, alongside your chin.

Your fingers brush along his knuckles, and the symbols adorning his knuckles, “What do they mean?” For a moment, he thinks he had dreamt the question, somewhere between consciousness and sleep, but then you repeat the question, tacking on his name, which had become reserved for private moments like this, “David?”

When your lips brush his knuckles, he cracks open an eye, squinting down at you in the soft glow from the television, as you raise a brow at him, “Hm?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you give him your out, and he knows he can take it, but then you look at him with that soft, curious look you had easily realized could get just about anything out of him. “Just wondering.”

His knuckles curl against your lips, before he admits with a sigh, “They mean, I did some stupid shit when I was a kid.”

“Like what?” you give him a lopsided, playful grin, “Was it something scandalous? Ooh! Did you knock someone up?”

“No, thank God,” he groans, running his hand over his eyes to wake himself more before he continues. “I spent six years in Huntington Boys Home; ran with the wrong crowd back then. Landed me a couple of stints in juvie, before I got some sense and joined the force. Figured I was sick of wasting my life away.”

“Were you a gang leader?” you breathe against his lips lowly, still a bit of a tease in your tone. “Were you dangerous, David?”

“Oh, I was the kind of boy your mama woulda’ cried over if you brought home,” he growls against you, and tickles at your sides, forcing giggles to erupt from your chest as he tucks your body between his and the couch with a simple turn to his side.

“Too bad I didn’t meet you during my rebellious phase, I guess,” he hears you gasp as his lips trail down your neck.

“Mhm, too bad.”

~

He wants to take you on a proper date, he decides. Got the idea stuck in his head until it was all he could think about.

When he finally pitches it to you, you look back at him from where you were letting him push you on the grocery cart, your feet planted on the rail beneath as the weight of your groceries and his arms around you kept it from flipping. He already knows he’s in for it when you grin at him, that glint of mischief in his eyes something that he’d grown to know could only be followed by a tease.

“What? Like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, now?”

His heart stammers in his chest, and he reaches for the packaged cheese, tossing it into the buggie while keeping his outward cool, “If that’s what you wanna’ be.”

When his blue eyes slip from the dairy to find your face again, he finds you peering at him in a sort of shocked stupor, before you bite your bottom lip, a smile beaming from beneath your overbite, “For real? You want to be?” He swallows, and knows that he should not feel so nervous after all the things you’ve done together. You were doing this all out of order, but he can’t bring himself to regret a single minute of it. He can only bring himself to nod, waiting as his heart hammers embarrassingly loud in his ears--- feeling like that stupid kid he once had been, way before he ever met you.

“Well, David,” you raise your nose in the air haughtily, “I’ll have you know that I’m not the kind of girl who puts out on the first date, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He cracks, grinning over at the meats as he finds he’d absentmindedly wheeled you towards them, absentminded tick causing his face to twitch slightly.

“What, you a three-date kinda’ girl?” he shoots back, reaching for the sliced turkey, before you point to a different brand.

You grin at him as he places it in your hand, “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you, boyfriend?” He’s sure you can’t see how enamored with you he is, as you toss the turkey into your cart.

The thought flies through his head, before he can even stop it, but he doesn’t dare let it fall from his tongue.

I love you.

~

The cat’s out of the bag when you both get called into O’Malley’s office. He’s frowning at the two of you, which is nothing new, but the way he shuts the door behind the two of you is.

“Now, I’m not the sort of man to reprimand two good detectives over rumors,” he begins, circling around the two of you to sit in his office chair, “but, I just want to make sure for myself.”

You glance at David, but his eyes remain trained on your captain. He looked bored, if anything else, poker face far too good to let anything else go, which is why the captain looks to you, with a frown that was all authority and reprimand.

“Is there something going on here that I need to be made aware about?” he stares solely at you, and David can tell you were starting to crack.

“Like what? What are you trying to say, Captain? Just come right out and fuckin’ say it,” he begins, drawing O’Malley’s attention and his glare as his twitch acts up again.

“I’m tryin’ to say, are you two screwing around?”

“I’m offended you would even---!”

“No---!” you squeak, but O’Malley doesn’t seem convinced.

O’Malley leans forward, folding his hands on his desk and silencing the two of you with the intensity of his stare, “Loki, you’re with Carter from now on.”

“What? No, Chief,” David snaps, poker face breaking, his jaw clenched in anger. “You don’t have any proof, and you’re just going to switch us up for a fuckin’ rumor?”

“If it’s just a fuckin’ rumor, why are you so mad about it, Loki?” O’Malley bites back. “Be glad I’m not writing you both up for fraternization!” He sighs, “Be glad I’m doing this, the both of you. It won’t be a problem if you’re not partners anymore, anyway.”

“You can’t just, change us up after all this time,” you try, but your voice is more like a plea than anything else, and O’Malley just looks at you with something akin to an apology.

“I can, and I am. You’re going to be partnered with Wedge. There isn’t a discussion to be had about this, and I think you both know that.”

Loki turns on his heel, ripping the door open with his annoyance, and making a straight line right for the stairs. His knuckles connect with the cement of the stairwell wall, anger radiating from him before he manages to compose himself.

How was Wedge going to watch your back like he could?

~

The call comes in when he’s sitting in a Taco Bell parking lot, Carter in his passenger seat and blasting an annoyingly loud rendition of Beat It by Michael Jackson, only it wasn’t Michael Jackson singing it. David almost sighs in relief at the excuse to turn down the fucking god-awful cover, but any relief is short lived as he hears the voice on the other end of the dispatch.

“All units, all units, respond. Unit twelve-fifty currently engaged in a code eight. Repeat, code eight. Suspect armed and dangerous at residence. Ten-twenty-one Maple Street. All units, respond.”

Carter sits up straight, an, “oh, shit,” huffing from his lips as other units respond to Sandy’s call.

David nearly rips the receiver from the radio, quickly responding, “Thirteen-forty, en route. E. T. A. ten minutes.” The wheels screech as his grip on the steering wheel tightens, Carter flipping the lights and siren on as he peels from the parking lot.

“Twelve-fifty, that’s---” Carter begins, and David nearly feels his heart jump to his throat as he confirms.

“Wedge’s cruiser.”

By the time he gets there, there are other cruisers, and S.W.A.T., as a suspect shoots from the windows of a house at the oncoming cars. David screeches to a stop, ducking his head and exiting the vehicle alongside the other cars for cover, weapon drawn.

“What the fuck happened?” he shouts as he makes it behind the S.W.A.T. car, finding O’Malley in a vest as he looks around for any sign of Wedge or you.

“Wedge called for backup, after shots were fired,” the look O’Malley levels him with has him weak in the knees, gripping onto his weapon as he leans on the truck. “S.W.A.T. just went around back, to engage and try to save the hostage.”

“Hostage,” David repeats, and O’Malley clenches his jaw.

“It’s (Y/N), Loki.”

~

Loki blinks up at the fluorescent lighting of the ceiling, feeling his eye tick as he hopes that maybe he’ll go blind if he stares there long enough. The soft meow of the cat, jumping up onto the table, breaks him from his intense stare, as he shovels another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

His hand runs along the fur of the cat’s back, and he decides he’s had enough for dinner tonight, after what the Captain had said about getting a new partner. His feet nudge the can of cat food as he passes it, suggesting that the cat grab a bite. It hops from the table and goes to sniff the food, before apparently deciding it didn’t have much of an appetite either.

He empties his cereal in the sink, washing the bowl, and abandoning it on the rack in his sink. His hands grip at the side of it, as he breathes slowly through his nose, shutting his eyes and trying his damned hardest not to cry again.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt so much, after all this time, but he had learned first hand that the pain never really did go away. You just learned to live with it.

“Come on,” he sighs down at the cat, as it rubs along his calves, before bending to scoop it up and scratch softly behind its ears, “let’s go to bed.”

He deposits it onto the bed as he pads into his bedroom. Lying down, he takes a deep breath, as the cat--- your cat--- settles against his thigh. The sheets had stopped smelling of you about four weeks after the funeral, but the cat--- it never stopped smelling like you.

His hand dips to the nightstand, opening the drawer, if only to torture himself further, and pulled out the small film canister that you had teased him about still having, with all the digital cameras he could use, without knowing what was inside of it. He pops it open, dumping its contents into the palm of his hand, and feeling the cool metal of the band with the pad of his thumb.

He holds it up to his face, watching the small diamond catch in the light, before he tucks it back into the canister and shuts the drawer once again.

The hardest part, had been telling your mother that he never got to pop the question.

No, David thinks, turning out the light, I don’t need another partner.

[i-want-my-iwtv]

How has the purge affected u?

[Apologies in advance for the Wall of Text™, I feel like longposting, sorry for the dash coverage, I didn’t think I had this much to say about this… And I probably shouldn’t do this, probably should have kept this to a flippant “It sucks!” with a VC meme, but I haven’t shared much publicly lately… now feels like a singularly poignant time to do so.]

NO CUTS WE LONGPOST LIKE MEN

It’s strange. I think running and participating in the @vcsecretgifts exchange (not finished yet!), and backing up that blog and this one for preservation (not finished yet!), helped take my mind off it! I’ve been busy with @wicked-felina coordinating substitute Santas, so I haven’t had much chance to indulge in it like a participant yet, but I did see that my recipient liked my gift, and that was heartwarming! I’ll reply properly when I have the peace of mind for it (yes I could be doing it now but this is the gear I want to be on right now), and I haven’t had a chance to read the gift from my own Santa, I’m saving that as a treat!

I did the #Log/ffProt/st, that helped. The purge is/was creatively stifling, somewhat, too, bc even though I don’t produce NS/FW stuff myself (I WANT TO, THO), I do reblog it, and support it, I see other artists and writers affected by it, and I felt and still feel helpless, unable to protect them. One of our VC fandom members who draws slash art has been shadowbanned, that I know of. It’s frustrating that the morality & purity police seem to have won this battle, but they haven’t won the war. We’ll take our garbage underground if we have to. 

How crushing to wake up to one’s blog(s) just canceled w/o explanation? We were given 2 weeks’ notice? To pack up our “nasty” stuff and leave? 

[X]

There’s nothing wrong with NS/FW stuff, adult ppl should be able to talk about it, fantasize about it, make art and write fiction about it, have kinks and explore them. I never bought the “if you like it in fiction you support it in reality!” argument, just like with all dangerous things we like in fiction but wouldn’t want in reality. 

“… Fiction is how we both study and de-fang our monsters. To lock violent fiction away, or to close our eyes to it, is to give our monsters and our fears undeserved power and richer hunting grounds.” - Warren Ellis [X]

But I’ve fought those battles and there’s no point in engaging in unwinnable debate with ppl who are committed to misunderstanding me and twisting my words into a strawman they can easily knock over.  

It’s baffling that it’s an unpopular opinion that minors should be allowed to learn about sex, as much as they learn about how to (eventually) drive a car, manage alcohol consumption, defend themselves against violence, handle medication or recreational drugs, all these things that are potentially and not inherently dangerous to them, that they’ll be faced with in the Real World. I remember there were religious rituals in my youth where children could taste alcohol a little bit, it was exposure to an adult thing in a safe space, among other adults. Is this really all about Protecting the Children? Really? Or is it about mental domination? What it looks like to me is a self-proclaimed Particular Authority who wants to keep minors (and adults) submissive and reliant on that Particular Authority, it’s so much easier to keep them submissive and reliant to that same Particular Authority as adults. It’s always been about power. 

And I’m seeing that the communities most affected by the purge are AFAB ppl and LGBTQIA+. It’s misogynistic, LGBTQIA+-phobic. The fact that tungle reportedly blocked archivists from saving blogs before the NS/FW purge is just pouring salt in the wound.

I’ve started following these refugee/evicted tumblr ppl where they’ve migrated to. I’m trying to keep track of them. I’m in the @fiction-is-not-reality2 discord server, keeping my eye out for the next alternative platform.

Leading up to the purge I considered blasting a bunch of smut as a last hurrah, and I did reblog some Controversial™ stuff, just in case my blog was going to be deleted, but then, I lost steam on that. Why put in extra effort and get deleted anyway? Why poke the bear, and deliberately get deleted for it? Most of my blog is SFW, anyway.

I preserved my blog, the gifts blog, and just for archival purposes I should have been doing that all along, so it was good for my own historical safekeeping… so much good commentary and fanworks here, in the past 5+ years! Collecting the scraps just like I’d done in 1994, when there were articles about the IWTV movie and I wanted all of them, I especially wanted the illustrations and caricatures in the magazines (which was really validating of my interest in some way, fanart that was published, essentially!). And I had my folder of Deviantart I liked, of course. So I packed up my blog here to preserve it, it’s on wordpress now, iwantmyiwtv.com, with a lame layout, but I’ve got the tags showing, where fanart that’s blocked here can still be seen on WP.

I’m rambling. 

The purge reminded me that all this, as we know it, could and will be gone someday. Purges have done that before, especially to our fandom, attacked by its own canon author. We’ve survived this before. 

I’ve been on tungle since July ‘13. I’ve made and lost some wonderful friends here, some have moved on to other fandoms, or we’ve had partings of the ways. The fanart in this fandom, my memes, have been spread all over, I see them on Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter. When this blog is deleted, either by content flagging or by tumblr finally keeling over, our stuff is going to outlive us all.  

Who even made this one? One of the vintage memes. Maybe their watermark was long ago cropped off, or maybe they hadn’t put it on:

^It was used in a meme here, but I don’t think that was the OP, it’s gotta be more than 4 yrs old. Pretty sure the “JUDGING YOU” in Impact font was around Twilight time, which came out in 2008. This meme is still floating around, it’s still amusing to ppl all these years later. Someone’s stroke of inspiration, and we may never know who it was, but we enjoy it, it’s part of the worn fabric of the fandom.

Will ppl remember me when/if I’m gone? I don’t need to be remembered, it’s enough that I was here at one point, and encouraged ppl to make fanworks, that I helped bring ppl together. I don’t need them to know it was me, specifically, or know much about me, this blog was never meant to be about me. Those I brought together might remember how they met. There are those who have seen behind the curtain and I hope to hang onto them as long as possible.

If/When this all disappears, I want ppl to know how much I enjoyed interacting with ppl through asks, the chat feature. I’ve missed answering asks, and I’ve missed the feeling of seeing new ask alerts without having to brace myself for Discourse. I’ve missed seeing that anon icon as a friendly, but shy, human being, rather than a living person who’s in pain, somewhere else in the world, throwing bricks through my window. Someone who’s suffering bc they’re not getting the attention they need, truly, someone who deserves to be loved, someone who needs validation for their opinions on things, and wanted mine, but I couldn’t give it. I’m only human, too. I made this blog for 15 year old me, who couldn’t find enough VC fanworks, so I set out to collect, make, and encourage them, but all in the spirit of optimism, bc that’s what I got out of canon. 15 year old me drew self esteem from those books. That’s the only person I ever wanted to please with this thing and that girl is still my priority. 

We’ll survive this purge, we’ve done it before. Hold onto the ppl who you’ve made connections with. I’ll be here as long as I can. 

Most importantly, I’m not letting the morality & purity police tell me what ’m allowed to learn about, make fanworks about, or enjoy in published or fan fiction, etc. 

[itsclydebitches]

Damn. That was a much more interesting Volume then what we've got. It's frustrating that I follow multiple RWBY fanfics and look forward to those updating then the newest episodes. I see you write fanfics to, but do you write original works as well? You should since you seem to know what you're doing.

Thank you! I feel the same way about a lot of shows. Often times I hit a point, usually when the show has gone on too long (looking at you, SPN...) where fan interpretations are more engaging than what we’re getting in canon. I hope RWBY hasn’t hit that point already though. There’s still a lot of excellent things in this season imo, so I’m hopeful that this second half is just a rough patch. 

And I sort of write original works? By which I mean I write things and then never finish them, so they just collect dust in my folders :D I have a lot of anxiety about my writing and though I’ve gotten better at sharing fic over the years, that’s largely because of receiving positive feedback--essentially training my stupid brain with, “See! When we post the thing a lot of people are happy!” It’s a rather different experience to write, say, a whole novel, knowing that unless you go a self-publication route, you’ll have to jump the hurdle of a mainstream publisher approving it before anyone else sees it. Life is busy-busy and so far I’ve preferred the agency that comes with fic. Writing knowing I’m working towards a specific ‘reward’ (my friends will enjoy this and I can semi-easily ignore any haters) as opposed to putting in all that effort to maybe send it off? Maybe get it published? Maybe have it not fall into obscurity on a B&N bookshelf or the Amazon kindle store? It’s a different kind of motivation I haven’t quite mastered yet. 

But I’m rambling. I do hope to publish original work someday. Just gotta nail down that work ethic 💜

[barnesthesarge]

I Found (Part 3): Sugar Sugar

Bucky X enhanced!Reader

Warnings: Just some slight angst, not really any flashbacks in this one! Lemme know if I need to add something!!

Summary: Summary: as someone trying to get their life together, Bucky understands why you’re not coming around right away. He’s helpful in every way possible but there’s something more to his actions, when you get taken away from him you start to notice that.

The bright lights in the café made Bucky’s eyes appear even more blue, Y/N couldn’t help but think he looked handsome. She had never seen him that way, she tended to avoid thinking of anyone as attractive, it would only make her nervous.

Needless to say, she was nervous. “Do you know what you want?” He asked.

“I think maybe just the cinnamon coffee, it sounds pretty good.” She could barely hear Bucky over the sound of her heart.

“Go pick out a table for us, I’ll order.” She nodded and found a table in the very back, she set her phone down on the table and checked her father’s Facebook page again.

He had shared a video of her, well somewhat her. It was a news source that had a video clip of her using her powers during a mission. The title of the video was “New Avenger?”

He didn’t say anything about the video but Y/N was sure he knew it was her. She was so absorbed in the video she didn’t even notice Bucky sit down with their drinks.

“You alright?” He asked, sliding hers in front of her.

“Yes.” She said without hesitation, “Thank you.” She tucked her phone away.

“Did you look again?” He sounded disappointed, Y/N wanted nothing more than to get rid of the sad sound in his voice.

“My dad, he knows who I am.” Y/N’s fingers were trembling.

“And how do you know that? What’s wrong with him knowing who you are? You do great things for the planet.” She looked down.

“He shared a video on Facebook of me, he didn’t say anything but there’s no way he didn’t realize it was me.” Y/N took a sip of her drink and smiled, “this is really good. Thank you.”

He smiled in return, “So um, would it be weird for me to try and get to know you while we’re here? I don’t want to say something wrong.”

“Why do you want to get to know me so bad?” Y/N inspected Bucky, his hair was back in a bun, a loose strand pulled back behind his ear.

“It’s been stupid of me to not try and help you. You’ve been here for so long and none of us has tried enough. I figured being around you would make you notice me and talk to me first but after so long it was stupid of me. Everyone was so distant to me when I first got here and at first I liked it. It sucks isolating yourself and I don’t want you to do the same.” He drank his coffee black.

“I guess I understand. Being alone sucks. The day I..disappeared, I was with my friends. There was five of us and we were at the mall, I remember that we were getting clothes for school and my one friend Lindsey drove us all. We got jumped by these huge men, my friends couldn’t fight back well and neither could I, one girl was left there unconscious because she was too small. They knocked us all out with this disgusting gas that I swear I can still smell.” She grimaced, Bucky reached across the table and put his flesh hand on her wrist, cautiously.

“You don’t have to tell me this.” He spoke warmly, he gave her a soft squeeze on her wrist and she felt her cheeks turn bright red.

“What do you want to know?” She asked softly.

“Let’s start with your favorite things? We don’t have to talk about what happened to you doll, it doesn’t define you.” She nodded softly.

“I’ve always loved music. I had a stupid dream to be a musician someday, like singing my own songs to a crowd. I never really mastered them, but I played a couple instruments. My family was supportive and liked to hear me. I don’t know, when things get bad I listen to music from when I was younger.” He grinned, his white teeth on full display.

“What instruments did you play? Can you sing?” She rolled her eyes in response.

“I’m not bad, but don’t you dare think of this as an invitation to hear me. I could play guitar, piano, and ukulele. Not very good of course but I could. Don’t tell anyone or I’ll destroy you with my bare hands.” Bucky smirked and drank the rest of his coffee.

“What’s wrong with people knowing about who you are?”

“Familiarity is not only terrifying but dangerous.”

—————

“Ms Y/L/N, Mr. Stark has requested your presence in his office.” She groaned, she had enough social interaction to last her a lifetime.

“Alright thank you FRIDAY. Call me Y/N from now on. Congrats your on firstname basis with me.” She said sarcastically.

“Yes ma’am, Y/N it’s my job. He wants you to hurry up.” Y/N sighed and put her shoes back on, rushing to the elevator.

Once on the floor, she noticed his door was already open so she walked inside, noticing Bucky standing by Tony’s desk.

“Am I in trouble?” She chuckled and both men shared her gaze in return.

“Close the door and lose your attitude. I have a mission for you two.” Y/N rolled her eyes and shut the door.

“What’s the mission.” Y/N decided to keep her attitude just to throw Tony off.

“Stakeout, I got a tip from an anonymous watcher I have that this man, Everett Gilbert,” he pushed forward a picture of a middle aged man, “is selling alien tech he’s been stealing. And I want you two to pose as buyers to see what he’s doing. My tip also told me how to get in.”

“Tony, I hardly see how I’m needed for this mission. This is a one man job. Barnes is perfectly capable to do this on his own.” She tapped her fingers impatiently, waiting to be dismissed.

“Actually, maybe you should let me finish and you’ll see your roll, Y/N.” He snapped, “I want you two to pose as a couple, go in there all grossly to distract them from your identity’s, buy something small and let me analyze it, and if it’s what we’re looking for we’ll go right ahead and infiltrate and take everyone down.” She felt her stomach drop.

“I’m not comfortable with acting grossly with anyone. Natasha would be better.” Her Y/E/C eyes stared at Tony desperately.

“Y/N, the sooner you get to doing your job the easier. Barnes, are you rusty at holding hands with people?” He raised his eyebrows at Bucky, who hadn’t said a word.

“I don’t think you should push her on this.” Bucky mumbled, it sounded threatening.

“I want you two on this mission for a reason. I think it would be healthy for her to try and come around to people. That and both of you avoid the public eye so he might not recognize you.”

“Stop talking about me like this, I’m literally right here. I’ll do the mission, but you’ll owe me Tony. This is a lot for me. If I fuck it up, it’s on you.” He cracked a smile.

“Works for me, Barnes?” He looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised.

“Alright. I’ll look over our instructions.” He took a folder from Tony and left the room without another word.

“How was your coffee hangout, I remember you calling it that and insisting it wasn’t a date.” Y/N huffed.

“Refreshing I guess.”

“You guess about a lot of things.” She chuckled.

“It was nice to talk to someone and not have it be solely about my messed up head. Is that better?” Tony nodded, he handed her a folder.

“Do you want to look over this together? Otherwise I can give it to FRIDAY and she can discuss it with you.”

“We can look over it together sure. It’s not too demeaning, is it? I can barely stand hugging you.” Tony laughed warmly.

“You said I stink. As far as I know James is quite groomed. I don’t think you’ll be hugging him. You just need to play the part I’ve given you.” They sat down on the couch and opened the folder.

“You want me to play as his sugar baby!? Tony what the fuck. I cannot stand you. This is crossing so many lines.” She buried her head in her hands.

“It’s a good thing you’re sitting down then. I think you’ll like it actually, it’s a fun role to play. You just get to mess with him, get to act ditsy, you just gotta cling to his arm and be all affectionate towards him. Look at my notes for you.”

“I fucking hate you.”

—————

Bucky read the notes carefully, his mouth agape and horrified. There was no way he wanted to do this, pretending to be in a relationship with Y/N was bad enough, but from what he was reading, this would strain their relationship.

Sam thought the situation was hilarious, “You get to be a sugar daddy! Hey this might be good, maybe she’ll realize she likes you after this. Play the part well Bucky, you never know!”

“Sam, have I ever told you I fucking hate birds?” Bucky looked at him evilly.

“What’re you gonna do? Kill me for laughing at you?” He smirked and left Bucky to go tell Steve about it.

Bucky left his room to talk to Y/N in her room. He knocked on the door and she opened it, she was sitting on her bed reading their instructions.

“Hey Y/N. You mind if I come in?” She looked up at him with a smirk.

“You just can’t seem to stay away from me, huh?” She teased, “come on in.”

“Are you uncomfortable with-with our mission?” She chuckled.

“Bucky, of course I’m nervous. I trust you and all, which is difficult for me to say. It’s weird. I guess I understand though, Tony is right, the whole PDA thing is distracting and makes people uncomfortable. I can play the part if you can play yours.” He sat down on her bed beside her.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” She replied. “We leave in the morning, don’t be late.”

Bucky nodded and left her room, going to his to pack up.

—————

A/N: hecc

(Message me if you wanna be added) TAGLIST: @animegirlgeeky @yafriendlyfangirl

[harboretum]

Asks!

So first of all a big big big thank you to everyone who’s sent an ask -- there’s been quite a few over the past few weeks and instead of continuing to fret over how best to answer them I figured I should, you know, start actually doing it. Below the cut are some of the more technical questions, and after that I’ll be posting a batch of character and story-related questions, and after those I hope to spread out some more answer posts eventually between art posts so it doesn’t get too repetitive.

Also, thank you SO much for all the likes, reblogs, comments, and follows -- I gotta say I’m just ??? A little overwhelmed but also just extremely encouraged and really excited to be able to share this with everyone

So, here’s some asks!

 [Ask: silent5th said: Hello I just discovered you! Is there somewhere I can go to listen to the campaign you draw about?]

The tabletop campaign that these comics are based on is a private one and doesn’t actually have a podcast, but I’m happy to talk a bit about some of the goings-ons or characters (with permission from the other players if it involves theirs) if anyone has questions about the campaign’s story!

[Ask: thekawaiibutterflygirl said: Do you have a site for your comics?? :000 like... On webtoons or a site thing.

Ask: the-sophisticated-seal said: After seeing the selke comic i thought it was part of a full webcomic and learning its not made me very sad. That said I love it and is there a follow up planned?]

I don’t actually have a separate blog or website for my comics right now, but if there ends up being a need for one down the road I am very open to setting something up. I do plan on making a lot more comics with all of these characters, though (my wip folder is full of thumbnails), and I actually did start these with the dream/goal of having enough to make a physical book someday just so I can have one, which if anyone else would be interested in that I’ll also keep you all updated if that ever happens. 

[Ask: Anonymous said: Hey! I love your art!!! I was wondering if you could tell me what medium you use to create stuff?]

I draw pretty much exclusively in Clip Studio Paint/Manga Studio on a tablet, but my laptop is also very old and cranky so we’ll see if that changes soon lol

[Ask: awkward-treesap said: Hello! I just stumbled across your art blog and I love it! I am a bit confused about monster of the week... I looked it up and it seems really fun! i got a little confused with how to play though,,,,:( do you know if there are any groups for complete beginers? Again i love your art :) ]

I’m not actually sure since my group was formed by people the DM already knew (and the DM learned by playing a one-shot game DMed by someone else), but the official website also has a recording of a group playing an episode under the Media section which could also help you get a feel for how to play the game!

[fundabidozi]

✔ “Just Do It” ✔  (Movie Review) 1/3

A Review of the Movie 

“Whiplash” (2014)

FAVORITE SCENE ✰

This is the scene where Andrew & Terence shared a smile to each other.

“ Don’t stop dreaming just because you had a nightmare. ”

This was my favorite scene because Terence’s eyes were like saying a message to Andrew- “You actually did it, after all those hardships I’ve put you into. You survived and continued and for that I give you a “Good Job.”

MOVIE SUMMARY ✰

It all began with Andrew Neiman playing the drums on Shaffer Conservatory of Music. Terence saw him and asked why he stopped playing suddenly. So he started playing again. Terence once again asked why he started playing when what he just asked is that “why he stopped playing.” And said that his version is like a monkey. Andrew got embarassed. He then practiced later that day and listened to Buddy Rich’s works hoping he could do the same. The next day, Terence came inside their class and told Andrew to do drums with him and that he must come on time. Andrew felt happy. In the meeting, Terence asked them to play the piece “Whiplash”. Terence is a very strict teacher and pays attention to every beat of the music. He doesn’t want any mistakes and is very particular to every beat he hears. At one point, he told everyone in the room that he senses someone that’s out of tune. He tumbled upon one boy and asked if he thinks he’s the one out of tune. The boy answered “yes” so Terence raged at him for not telling after asking for several times. After the boy left, he told everyone he’s not really  the one that’s out of tune. But since  he told “yes” (it means he didn’t actually know) - and that’s bad enough. Terence then told Andrew that the key is just relax. He said not to worry about the numbers, what the other guys are thinking. That he’s there for a reason and he  gotta  believe that.

The next day, Terence told them to play the piece again and Andrew seems to be struggling.  Terence then threw a chair at him asking if he was rushing or dragging, and then slapped him till he cries and made him shout to everybody that he’s upset. He was told to practice harder. Later that night, he did practice hard till his hands bleed. When a competition was held , Andrew purposely lose the folder that has a sheet music inside. And since the other drummer can’t play without it , Andrew volunteers to do so .They won in the competition and he was promoted to core drummer. Andrew then gets upset one day when Terence promotes Connolly (one of his old classmate) as the new core drummer. He soon breaks up with his girlfriend telling he wants to be one of the best and that she would stop him from being that. Once again, he practiced real hard-  to the point of hurting himself.

One day, Terence told a story about  a boy who started with a lot of hope like all of them. He said how some people told that the boy  isn’t really for music. Terence told everybody that the people didn’t see what he saw. He saw a drive in him. Eventually, that boy was able to win some awards. His name was Sean Casey. Terence told his story because he found out he died that day. He even told them  that he was a beautiful player. Since Andrew cannot accept he’s not the core drummer anymore, they fought for the position. Eventually, Andrew won the part  of core drummer again. In another competition, Terence said to Andrew that he was self-righteous, and needed to prove himself. Andrew was determined to do so but before the show started, he realizes that he left his drumsticks so he had to get it back quickly or else he would be late for the competition. Unfortunately, he met accident on the way and arrives on the theater injured. He couldn’t play right and so he failed. Terence told he’s done of him and was then attacked by Andrew. Soon, Andrew’s father  persuaded him to get back to Terence, though part of him doesn’t want to. Sean Casey’s lawyer said the real reason of his death was because of Terence. He told him to say bad things to him mysteriously to get him fired.  

One day they saw each other  again on a club and Terence told him he was fired. And that he knows he’s one of the reason why. Terence  explained to him that he pushes people beyond what is expected and that is an absolute necessity. He told him he just wants them to be one of those best drummers. He told of a story behind the success of some drummers.They succeeded because they practiced and practiced with one goal in mind. They practice so hard that no one never gets to laugh at them again. He added that there are no 2 words in the English language more harmful than a “good job”. Andrew told him that maybe he goes too far and too hard to a point that he discourages them to be the next “Charlie Parker”. Terence answered with a “NO” explaining that the next “Charlie Parker” would never be discouraged. Terence told him he would never apologize for how he tried.

He then invites Andrew for a band but eventually tricked him into playing another piece. Andrew was embarrassed infront of many people but instead of leaving , he goes back in the stage to play a piece he knows. He cued the band himself, and plays solo even other musicians already finished playing . Terence who was just on stage, willingly guides him. In the end, they shared to each other a very meaningful smile.

Guide Questions: ✦

1. What life lessons can be learned from the movie?

People must always understand why sometimes, they are pushed to their limits. Just like how Terence pushed Andrew. It’s not just because they want us to be in the hardest situation but because they know we can do it, that we can surpass it, and that we can still do better. The quote goes by saying ”When you want to give up, remember why you started”. The moment you chose to give up is the moment you will feel “regret”.  We must always find a way because someday we might just look back and smile at all the challenges we’ve passed through. We must never stop chasing our dreams. Think how far you’ve gone. But sometimes when we’ve reached the point where we are in our satisfaction level, we must still humble ourselves and do things in the right way. Andrew badly wanted the position of core drummer. At first, he got the position not because he actually deserved it, but because he made shortcuts toward it. But no, that’s not the real definition of what success really is. It happens after surviving many disappointments, trials or struggles. We must also remember to take our choices carefully. At one scene, Andrew broke up with his girlfriend. In the end he regretted it. While chasing for our dreams, we musn’t also forget that it’s not the only thing that would matter.

2. What part of the story told by the movie was the most powerful? Why?

For me, the most powerful part is when Terence smiled to Andrew in the last part. Terence’s eyes were like saying “You did it man”. He may be harsh most of the time but his motives were always right. Andrew would’ve never done it if he hadn’t done it the hard way. Sometimes, the limits of the possible can only be defined by going beyond them into the impossible. Just like when God gives us challenges, he would never give it to us if he knows we can’t make it. We must always try to overcome the limits of abilities. Sometimes we just have to make the weaknesses our biggest strengths.

3. Who was your favorite character in the movie? Why?

My favorite character in the movie was Andrew’s father. Through thick and thin, he’s always been there for his son. He showed what a family should be. To love and support one another. I truly believe in the saying that “Behind every child who believes in himself, is a parent who believed first.” From beginning till the end, he’s just there. He didn’t talk much but his actions were promising never to leave, and that’s just so touching. Yes you may be the strongest person, but definitely at one point, you need someone to hold your hand and say that it’s just alright.

4. Did anything that happened in the movie remind you of something that has occured in your own life or have you seen occured to others?

Yes. I’ve seen how some students received high expectations from their parents. Just like Terence, no mistakes and failures allowed. They would put all the blame on their children and wouldn’t be so happy if they wouldn’t reach the position they expect. Students then are forced to try their very best, wouldn’t mind even if they stay up late. Yes, the motives were always right and good. But sometimes it’s too much. They focus on the brighter future too much that they forgot to think of their children anymore. And these children would hope their parents could understand. They hope they could finally reach it. They hope they could finally see their parents smile to them.

5. If you had chance to ask a character in this movie a question, what would it be?

If I were to ask a character I would ask Terence. I am just wondering if he ever had a teacher just like him that pushed him so hard to his limits. I would ask him if he ever had an experience that led him to be that harsh. What can he say to Andrew- who reached his expectations but betrayed him? In addition, I would ask him more about the “Sean Casey” case - about how their journey has been.  

✔ We may be pushed to our limits and just want to give up, but we must remind ourselves to continue and Just Do It ✔