#hmm i need a new tag system for my ocs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years ago

Note

hey Kip! I’m sending asks into different writer’s askboxes, inquiring about cool themes/development facts/stuff the author wants to share about their personal favorite work of their own. What’s yours? :)

Ok so this ask is old and when I first got it I was like “dang I don’t really have a lot to talk about, what should I talk about I could those revalink headcanons the Kip Cut that turned into a working fic uhh hmm maybe I’ll just make something new to talk about real quick” and then I did and now there is a 12+ chapter Revalink fic in my drafts and I’m gonna talk about that now, whoopsie doopsie [click "j" to skip]

aHEM, OK so allow me to break out the primary school white board because yeah, I have a lot of thoughts and the oxford comma has not yet made it’s home into my brain. oh and spoilers for paraphrase. for both all of Chapter one and future events in later chapters, but it’s really nothing you couldn’t surmise from the AO3 tags

so I really wanted to tell the story of Revali and Link learning and struggling to love again after the less-than-fortunate events of Botw, but I wanted a...how you say...fresher, approach on the subject? Like I know we always say that fanfic writers writing the same tropes and stories time and time again is good because we eat that shit up--but at the same time I had asian parenting as was told never to half ass anything ever, no matter what. So now I'm gay and extra and have depression maybe and oh would you look at that @motherhyrule has dropped a beautiful revalink prompt right into my lap

Great so now that we have, that, I shall take you on the step by step process on how to make a :sparkles: story. So step one is to spend at least five to eleven business days for your white board to dismantle your genre and themes and work them around your character arcs. Luckily I have prepared one ahead of time

s*breaks out those laser pointers that uni professors use* So let's start with defining genre. As define because I HATE you, fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff, fuck you and yours

is the set of expectations that your audience has when consuming a piece of media

And the great thing about fanfiction is that unlike movies or book where the genres are more vague like, "oh it's a noir mystery genre. so there's a crime, maybe a murder, and a detective and a criminal." or "oh it's a teen romance. so there's some white people and a morally questionable six-pack 18 year old love interest that will be painted as desirable for some reason" BUT with fanfiction HALF of the work out the window, because as soon as you see those #revalink #aro sidon #zelpha #revali is an idiot and #found family tags you already know what's up.

Now what's so great about genre and expectation? Well the fun thing about it is that

I will use it to fucking break you.

... ... ...

<3 For example! <3

In Chapter 1: Holes, you already expect there to be revalink, you already expect them to be soulmates with the soulmarks and there's angst and yadayada ya. Revali and Link have to match because thatttss what this is all about, this is about them! This is about cute, little soulmarks and romantic words!

But whoooopsie doopsie [disney channel laugh track plays] they DON'T match anymore! Link's got a different mark! The number one rule of this entire genre has been broken whoooooooooooooooops. *ba dum tiss*

You might notice with a lot of my writing that I do this a lot, this whole..."oop but there's one little thing that's different." TebaSaki sick fic? Ok cool, but what if Teba burns an irreplaceable relic of the Rito champion to fight a wizzrobe first to characterize why his dumbass clicks with Saki. Mipha deciding to persue Link? Ok what if she chases after a dragon to externalize this conflict as she pierces it's flesh for a scale. Link fighting a Lynel? Ok but what if it's actually a sidlink angst fic in disguise and it's also world building on how Link deals with the bloodmoon that erases all of his efforts which is sort of similar to how his existence was erased from Hyrule 100 years ago mwaahahaha! Ok now that I say this outloud I think I just have a pattern of using fight scenes to externalize character growth. I like fight scenes...anyways.

I think another great thing about the realm of fanfiction is that with the tagging system, I can basically use a chekhov's gun sort of deal, without doing any writing. You know I'm gonna use that gun marked "soulmates" but you don't know when I'm gonna shoot it, and you SURE as hell don't know how.

And huzzah! One of the main points of conflict both drives the tension between Revali and Link, solidifies the unique genre and setting of this world, while also creating a new mystery that will carry over for the next few chapters.

Is Revali right in that Link's rebirth makes him destined for someone new now? What will Link do with the information that his soulmark has changed? Why did it change? Did Revali's change as well? How does anything fucking work right now?

And sure, you might be able to tell where things will end with them, but you sure as fuck will not know how because I HATE you. Fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff. I am not your goddamn fairy godmother, I will do as I fucking please. You will suffer as you fucking deserve, fuck you and your little tiny--

Oh! But you might have noticed on my little planning whiteboard thing that there was a little T-Chart! For Revali and Link! That's because the next important thing besides plot (and in a lot of cases, including this one, it's argued to be even MORE important than plot) is

~CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT~

[to the tune of that history of the world video on youtube]

So yes, it's a little T-Chart outlining their character views in relation to the themes. And the great thing about themes is that they're not something you can necessarily predict in the same way you can with the genre and plot.

But now see, I'm very lazy so I'm just gonna plagiarize @hyrule-kingdom-updates thingy [that you should read btw] because they said my point quite clear enough

Now I don't really need to care about those points about bond and relationships and being understood, because I'm dealing with already established canon characters. I'm not some NERD who dabbles with entire casts of ocs who even cares about ocs not me that's for sure ahaahahaahahahahahaahahahahahAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *cries in my orphaned WTTU fic* AHAHAHA*sobs*DONT FUCKING LOOK AT ME THAT WAY I SWEAR--

/j I love ocs

But the points I do wanna focus on is the idea that characters provide new perspectives on the theme, and that characters growth can be tracked based on their wants, lies, and needs.

So see, themes can be predicted the same as genre/plot because while you can have the same fanfic plots and tropes, theme will always vary!

Sometimes it's a journey of selfworth with Revali! Sometimes it's an exploration of trauma with Link. Sometimes it's about how you deal with the vulnerabilities of love with Mipha. Sometimes there's straight up NOOOO theme, and people just be fucking, and kissing, and baking, and having a good time. And that is totally fine too!

But I'm not a fucking coward.

I'm gonna weave in themes with my plot, because I fucking can.

I'm not a weakling like you.

Do you hear me, 2019 Kip? Do you hear me Demmers? Do you hear me Quill? I'm coming for your ass. You think you're so great, but I'm coming for you. Rest assured that your graves will be as deep as your sculptured pride--

Heeeere is that T-Chart again, plus more!

yyyyyYou might notice that Revali and Link are quite parallel, to paraphrase. Ayoooo, see what I did there? *dabs* I'm a genius. Anywho

They both start off the same way: 100 years ago they were in love and happy. Basically the equivalent of childish naivety. For the first time in their lives, life is whimsical and charming, and they make each other happy. In fact, it's almost a flaw with how they perceive this happiness. But don't worry! It doesn't last long!

You know what happens.

I think the chart is pretty self explanatory. Revali builds walls fast enough to give a republican a wet dream. Meanwhile Link makes every aromantic in the chat groan with his doubled down sentiments in the idea that his chances of being truly happy again are gone.

Now, I can't exactly describe the full on process of the inbetweens, and where Revali and Link are gonna go from here, because...you have to read it for yourself! Heehee...but something I did think was fun was how these character views on the themes are revealed. Because you'll notice that, I never give exposition. Ever.

Ok well, let me rephrase that. I never give exposition scenes. I will never give you a big LOTR fancy wizard scene explaining the ins and outs of a character's question or the world's magic or whatever. I'm a very impatient Kip, and I value efficiency. Nonono, it's all about multi tasking, baby!

Chapter 1: Holes is divided into three parts.

Post 100 Years - Medoh (Establishes Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view)

100 Years Ago - Flight Range (Establishes old Revalink views)

Post 100 years - Mark (Develops Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view in contrast to who they once were)

I think the way that you structure flashbacks is incredible vital, as it's a very quick way to characterize people without having them say stuff like "I used to be like you, until I took an arrow to the knee" or whatever.

And with the main structure of the chapters and the fic as a whole is focus on their characters, that means I can hide whatever other stuff I want in those scenes, becuase you're too busy absorbing the fun character stuff to realizing I'm giving you boring exposition. Like for example:

Post 100 Years - Medoh and Mark

Foreshadowing for the end of the fic

Set up connection to Medoh with Revali

Link has defeated Windblight

Link has been visiting Revali every night for the past few days

Link has already met Kass and presumably Teba

Link doesn't have the Mastersword

Revali's Gale is still an ability that needs master and practice on Link's end

And that's just some of the stuff.

And see, the only reason I can efficiently give all of this information regarding character, and even exposition, is because of the theme. The themes make everything relevant, and everything circles and encompasses one another, so there's absolutely no wasted space. I mean don't even get me started on how it's gonna be to characterize the other characters around this

I don't wanna talk about the other characters too much either because that's spoilers, but you can probably take a gandar based on my notes.

And oh my god this is just on the theme of the faults that come with "soulmates" and "true love" and all that, and how even magical destined relationships still require work and effort, and that no one thing or person solves all your problems. And that's not even TOUCHING the shit on trauma and scars. I didn't think it was even possible for me to talk about botw without touching on that, ha. Ah well, I've been talking for too long.

Revalink has a lot o' writing potential so das pretty cool yeah, I am excite

#revalink #paraphrase revalink #writing

66 notes · View notes

atlantis-scribe · 4 years ago

Text

tagged by @alienfuckeronmain (thank you!)

- - - - -

Name: Kit! also Arya_Silvertongue on ao3 and @the-arya-silvertongue on main (yes, that’s what I use for liking & replying. no, that’s not a random creepy person. that’s me! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ )

Fandoms: goodness. I don’t think we have enough time to unpack all of that. but long story short: my first fandoms were Harry Potter & iCarly. I was on FFnet when ‘lemons’ & character conversations with the author were a thing on the A/N section haha (+ I’ve been on Tumblr for over a decade)

Two-shot: I don’t think I have any. My mind works in an all-or-nothing capacity; it’s either one-shot or ridiculous multi-chapters. (the closest is a three-shot, which is this Leverage/Stargate fusion I’m currently working on as a break from my other multi-chap giants)

Most popular multi-chapter: hmm. the one with the highest kudos count on ao3 is an Arya Stark-centric ficlet collection (yes, I’m a huge ASoIaF fan. no, I don’t like the TV show). but the one that really felt like it blew up (at least in terms of reader feedback) is this Shadowhunters fic I wrote back when I had my brief-yet-intense Malec hyperfixation. it’s On Hiatus because I lost my grip of the source material, but I’m still hoping to return to it someday. people still message me about it, and I really want to do right by them.

Actual worst part of writing: losing momentum. I am really not a prolific writer, and it’ so hard because my plot bunnies are like dust. they come out of nowhere & only accumulate when left unattended. sometimes, all I wanna do is shake myself so the stories come out without me having to go through the bloody & taxing process of actually making the words go.

How you choose your titles: funny thing, really. I’m almost always unable to start drafting without a working title & summary. I hate that I am that way, but that’s how it’s always been for as long as I can remember. now, choosing my title is a tricky process in and of itself. I need it to be as perfect as I can make it. it has to be SYMBOLIC and filled with FORESHADOWING (spoiler: I fail at this objective about 73% of the time), so I usually just end up parking myself in a corner & staring at nothing. sometimes, I have my phone with me to google synonyms and etymology of words.

Do you outline: yes! I’m a compulsive outliner. my outlines have outlines.

Ideas you probably won’t get to but wouldn’t it be nice: I have a lot, I’m afraid. far too many. (the Stargate ones will be featured in this blog every now and then, anyway, so you’ll get them when I share them heh).

one thing I’ve all but given up on is this Bleach AU that I’ve plotted for H50/McDanno. I started the first installment for what was supposed to be a series, but I doubt I’ll return to it anytime soon.

Callouts @ yourself: stop. entertaining. new. fic. ideas. (and no, not every OC / side character has to have a detailed backstory. it most likely won’t come up in the story, anyway)

Best writing traits: I’m apparently good at making people cry? I really just love angst. I had a reader once who told me that they had to lock themselves in the bathroom to hyperventilate after one particular narrative revelation. I actually got sincerely worried.

Spicy tangential opinion: writing in first-person POV should be for skilled writers. I know that it can be a great tool when used properly, but every time I open a fic and see ‘I’, “my”, “me”, or “mine”, I backtrack so fast I break the sound barrier.

- - - - -

tagging the handful of people I’ve come across both here & on ao3: @logicgunn @dedkake @frankthesnek @chaos-monkeyy @mific @goddess47 @brumeier @spacecadetdhdly (I hope I’m tagging the right people! the tumblr tagging system is crazy & I only have my poor memory of ao3 authors in the mcshep tag to work with. no pressure tho!)

#tag game #alienfuckeronmain #kit things

7 notes · View notes

yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

Note

aaa I love your work! Can we get some of the A.I reader and Ingrid going about their daily lives? Maybe with the A.I not being as naive and innocent as most think and Ingrid being totally soft for them.

Can we, dear? I'm joking, of course we can!

I'm currently dealing with some personal family related bullshit, so again, I'm sorry for taking so long to answer you. I'm going to be honest here, I think things are only about to worsen.

So I'll take longer to answer asks, and to write in general, so please be patient.

TW/Tags: reader is a bit sassy // they're kinda dating in this one 👀 // fluffy but also twisted in a way.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Something, something, clever title lol [Yandere!CEO OC x A.I Reader - Headcanon]:

Ingrid is a calm woman… Most of the time. She only loses her temper to the point of yelling at someone if they're being unreasonably stupid, or messing around with you.

This time, her employees have managed to check both marks! By not only pestering you to divide by zero but also constantly bothering you over the fact that you're a machine.

"- So, what have we learned today?"

"- Sigh… Don't ask the robot if they would date a microwave-"

"- Especially if?"

"- The bot is the most valuable employee, and the most important asset to the structure of this company-"

"- And?"

"- And if we bother them too much we'll be fired."

"- Good, good, I'm fine with this."

You watched the whole scene go down as you laughed to yourself. Geez, your boss is brutal sometimes, but honestly? They deserved it, even if you have learned to overcome humans making fun of the fact you're a robot, it is still kinda fun to see Ingrid defending you with such a strong grip.

You, of course, couldn't let this opportunity pass, so when she looked at you to see how you were, you made sure to look as unimpressed as you could. And truthfully, you weren't impressed by their apologies, it was flat and they clearly didn't understand what was the true issue of the situation.

Ingrid understood exactly what was written on your face, and then followed your reaction by imitating your expression. Except hers actually look threatening.

The employees were confused, did they do something wrong? Again??

"- C-Can we go now?"

"- Can you?" Ingrid asked while trying to guide their eyes to you. They have apologized to Ingrid, but not to you, the person they were making fun of.

"- We're sorry [Y/N]!" They said in unison hoping to please you and their angry boss.

"- Apologies accepted." You said. Although honestly, you kinda loved the whole situation. It was kinda bad yet kinda satisfying in a weird way. They kept bothering you through weeks and you haven't been able to truly finish your tasks, you should had come to her sooner but you felt like you were being a little evil by doing this.

And I mean, maybe you are, you're kinda holding your laughter as you see them humble themselves for at least once in their lives.

"- You were enjoying this? Weren't you?" Ingrid asked when all of the employees had gone out of her office. She noticed your smug little face, which she honestly couldn't help but love. It was adorable yet so mischievous, geez, you're terrible for her health!

"- Oh come on! You were holding your laughter too!" You responded back playfully, as she picked you up from the table you were sitting in.

"- Geez, you little brat!" She messed your synthetic hair and hugged you. Causing you to squeak because of how tight the hug was.

"- Ingrid! You're ruining my uniform!" You whined as she wasn't letting go. You're just so cute!

Even if she knows you better than anyone, knowing how you only act innocent when you sometimes can be a bit of a rascal, she loves it!

Most think you're a fragile dumb a.i, but the fact that she and only she knows the truth can be so thrilling, ya know?

"- Well, since we're almost done, what would you like to do when we finally go back home?" She asked while letting you go and fixing your clothes. The uniform that was given to you when you were being built fitted perfectly, yet it was so… Boring? Maybe she should buy you some new clothes, bringing you with her so you can choose for yourself.

"- Hmm… I want-" You checked your inner systems to see if you have any necessities to be fulfilled. You could either choose to simply go back home and fulfil those needs, or go with her somewhere else, like going to the shop to buy things for you or, well, anything else!

"- Ugh, I'm feeling stressed, I did a lot of things today you know?"

"- Like sitting around looking pretty?"

"- Exactly! Well, I was thinking, we could probably just go back home and watch something together, right?" You said. Honestly you weren't in the mood to go around, your battery was about to run out anyway.

"- As you wish." She said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Days went by like this, you two went to work in the morning, did your own personal tasks and would always decide on what you two would do when the shift was finished. You would either go on dates or just hang inside her house. There were events such as reunions between companies, a couple of parties between rich people (which you only enjoyed because you could wear shiny outfits), and stuff like that.

Although your life was generally really happy and comfortable, there were a couple of things you didn't like about your relationship with Ingrid. You started to wonder if you needed more than what she was offering.

Ingrid wouldn't let you go out of the house alone, she didn't really liked whenever you wanted to hangout with other people. Whenever you mentioned "friends" to her, she would always respond coldly to the idea.

"- Friends? Believe you don't need any. It's not like there is anyone at your level, [Y/N]. You're better than anyone, you're better than friends."

But you never really bothered about that. What truly makes your system meltdown is how she invades your privacy.

"- [Y/N], we need to talk."

"- What is it-"

"- Why do you have 1.389.657 pictures of cats downloaded in your files?"

"- Y-You looked at my data?? Why? When?"

"- When you were sleeping. And I did it because you were starting to run slower than usual. You were taking too long to respond."

"- ……………. No, I'm not."

You remember having a big discussion that day. She not only looked at all of your folders one by one, she even looked at your search history! The audacity, the nerve!

You remember going all the way to your room (which was hers, actually) and locking her outside.

"- You're being unreasonable-"

"- And you were invading my right for privacy!"

The fight was going throughout the entire night. There was a specific moment you thought she was about to destroy the door if you didn't let her in. You remember being terrified, you never saw her so… Aggressive.

Yet you couldn't find yourself to be completely mad at her. Either because you really cared about her or because your a.i was built to care for her, it didn't matter.

You saw her sleeping on the couch, her night had clearly been really rough.

You decided to give her a chance to explain herself. She didn't want to make you uncomfortable, she just really wanted to make sure you weren't lagging for anything else.

And well…. You ended up admitting the fact that 1.389.657 pictures of cats were really exaggerated. Maybe only two, maybe five per week would be better for you.

"- I'm glad today is Saturday, I don't want to move a finger." She said as she repositioned herself on the couch, it was really uncomfortable to sleep there, yet she couldn't find enough energy to get up and go up the stairs to her own room.

"- I'm just glad we managed to talk things out."

"- Yeah."

She went silent after responding to you. A whole second with you two enjoying the peace had passed before she said:

"- So. What did you find under the "Buff women" search on Google?"

"- I-! It-It was a one time thing, okay?!"

She laughed at your flustered robotic face. So it's true that robots can blush, huh?

God, you are amazing, you know? But she never promised that she wouldn't check your data regularly.

She just needed to erase the memories of you finding out she did. Nothing would change after that.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #yandere oc #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere ceo x robot reader #yandere ceo x reader #yandere ceo #yandere headcanon #yandere oc headcanons #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

31 notes · View notes

mimimimikkyu · 4 years ago

Text

50 Questions about your OC

I’m doing this all from a canon compliant perspective on Rowan(with the games aka they compete and become the new champion) so here we go

How old are they?

26 years

What gender are they?

Non gender, mild beef (Nonbinary, they/them)

What is their romantic/sexual orientation?

Bisexual

How tall are they?

5′5″

What do they look like?

It won’t let me paste a picture under here just go through my trainersona tag

What are their defining features?

Their eyebrows probably and their side shave.

Does their name have a meaning?

Not particularly within the scheme of things. I just thought of it one night while drawing them and was like, “Hey yeah that fits!”.

I only found out after that it works within the pokemon universe because it’s also a type of plant lol.

What family do they have?

They’ve got a father, his parents and some aunts and uncles + cousins.

They’ve always considered Hop to be a little brother as well.

Do they have a good relationship with their family?

Pretty much! They’re father is completely open and supporting of them and tries to help out wherever he can.

Then when they were still alive their grandparents lived on the farm with them and Rowan was always at their grandmothers side helping out. She’s how Rowan learned to cook and do basic patching up skills.

The only one Rowan doesn’t have a good relationship with is their mother, who left when they were 9 and Rowan later cut her out in their teens.

If not, why not?

Their mother specifically because she was always antagonistic and emotional abusive.

Where do they live?

They go between Potswick on the family farm and their flat in Wydon depending on how busy they are.

Is it a safe place?

They certainly think both places are.

Are they poor, middle-class or wealthy?

WELL, they are with a wealthy man so also they’re the closest thing to a celebrity in their region so.

Do they look up to anyone?

Almost everyone they know, literally.

But figuratively their father.

Who is their best friend?

Leon for sure. He was the first person they met after moving into the farm and one of the only kids that was willing to take them along on stuff.

Sonia comes in at a close second. After Leon started getting busier and busier they hung out more often and Rowan tends to confide more personal things with her than they do Leon.

Do they have any enemies?

Probably, being champion after all. But they wouldn’t really pay them any mind.

Who is the person they hate most in the world?

Hmm, don’t think they really hate anyone. Though they don’t really like being hounded by papparazi but who would.

Do they have any love/hate relationships?

Nah

Have they ever fallen in love?

A few times.

Rose is the first person they’ve gotten into a serious relationship with however.

Who is the person they love the most in the world?

Romantically, Rose.

Does that person love them back?

Ye he do lol

Have they ever hurt or lost anyone?

Hurt? No. Lost? Their grandparents passed away a few years before where their canon is at currently.

Are they a good shoulder to cry on?

Yeah absolutely. They’ve had to do it themselves a fair few times over their life and they really don’t mind paying it back to people who need that comfort.

Are they well liked?

I suppose they would have to be lol

How do they handle being complimented?

Finger guns and thanks. If it’s by someone close to them they also compliment right back.

Are they an affectionate person?

Physically yes, they love to be held or hold someone. Quick little stolen kisses are their bread and butter.

Verbally. they try but it doesn’t go from their head to their mouth well.

Are they very driven?

So-so, it takes some push from people on the outside but once they’re in they are in.

Are they very political?

I don’t know much about the politics within the pokemon universe so I can’t really say.

What kind of state is the world that they live in?

Well, certainly not Ohio

What are the world leaders like?

Not too sure about that one either

Does the character worry about their place in society?

For sure. Though they hide it publicly they deal with imposter syndrome a lot after winning the championship.

If the could change one thing, what would it be?

Probably woulda talked Rose out of committing to his big himbo moment if they had known what was going on. They weren’t honestly serious at that point, having only gone a couple little dates, so nothing big was shared with them.

Do they like themselves?

For the most part yes. They have their bad days, like when the imposter syndrome creeps in but they’re fairly confident otherwise.

Are they a good person?

Boy do they try to be.

Are they very forgiving?

Well, yeah.

Do they believe in destiny?

Are they trustworthy?

They sure hope so.

Are they a good liar?

Not in the slightest

How do they react to criticism?

If it’s good criticism they take it to heart and try to work with it.

If it’s not they complain about it to friends.

What is their moral alignment?

Neutral Good

Can they fight?

With pokemon yeah

Physcially they have no training but they’d try lol

Would they ever purposefully hurt someone?

Nah

Have they ever been seriously injured?

Naaah

Do they know first aid?

Yes they do.

Do they have any other survival skills?

The usually stuff that uhhh comes with farm work and also, you know, camping

Are they a fast learner?

Yes

How intelligent are they?

Fairly, they’re just very aloof.

What is the school system like?

Dunno

What is their job?

Champion of Galar, part time wooloo herder

Do they enjoy their job?

Yes

#long post #trainersona #owo #if you read this thank u i love u #oc talk

5 notes · View notes

lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 4 years ago

Text

La Pomme ~ Chapter Six

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 6,200

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Approximately three hours of arguing with herself about staying away from them later, George went to see if Jack and Sam had returned yet. She reasoned that, at this point, they'd been so adamant about her coming that staying away altogether would probably raise a larger red flag than if she just made a quick appearance.

That's not true! I'm just going so that they don't come looking for me. This is definitely the last time. Once I get the kid set up on the games, he'll forget I exist. Then I can slip back to my as-yet-undiscovered-room and wait quietly for Rowena to return and return me home. Everything will be fine. This has nothing to do with the beard.

I have to go to keep seeming uninteresting and innocuous, She reasoned with herself, though she knew it was dangerous. It was also not the real reason she was going.

There was no part of her that believed any of that. Especially as her heart fluttered at the thought of bearded Sam in that tight, gray deep v-neck.

First, she stopped in the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge. Then she went to check Jack's room. As she walked up to the open door, she heard the two men talking.

"I don't understand why you don't want to tell me what happened." She heard Jack say.

Sam's annoyed huff made her pause, "I did tell you; nothing happened. She passed out exhausted and I didn't know where else to put her. There are so many new people here right now, I don't know what's an empty bed and what's not."

"OK…" She heard Jack's doubtful reply and then a pause before asking, "If Brent had passed out in your arms, would you have carried him to your bed?"

George grinned devilishly at the implication of the question, covering her mouth with her hand to stay quiet. There was a long, intriguing silence before Sam ordered defensively, "Shut up."

George decided to take that as her cue. She stepped into the doorway and cleared her throat, "'Shut up,' huh? Interesting parenting philosophy." She smirked as Sam started a bit and looked over at her. Presumably, he was wondering how much of that conversation she'd heard, and she felt in no hurry to fill him in.

Jack smiled at her and pointed to a surprising amount of booty on his bed and the floor in front of it, "George! They had everything on your list! Oh, except Mario 64."

Looks like the shoe's on the other foot, She thought smugly.

"Wow, really?" Her eyes went wide when she saw the small flat screen TV box leaning against the footboard and she looked at Sam with a surprised chuckle. She guessed Sam really wanted to keep Jack occupied. "And you bought it all, I see, awesome! Did you want some help setting up?"

"Yea, come in!" Jack nodded enthusiastically, waving her in, and then began unpacking his loot. George hesitated for a second as Sam watched Jack lay out all the equipment to start getting it set up.

Bitch, I don't know why you're taking pause now! You brought the damn beer. You planned this; just go in already.

With a quick, annoyed shake of her head to quiet the smug voices, she finally stepped into the room.

When she got close to him, Sam smiled, "Hey."

"Hi," George returned his smile nervously. "I don't remember that being on my list," Sam followed her gaze to the flat screen and then squirmed a bit, guiltily. Motioning to the rest of the stuff, she asked with a chuckle, "Feeling a little bit of dad guilt over something?"

Sam feigned ignorance, "Hmm?"

"I mean, OK, you needed the system and some games but…" Her eyes ran over the huge pile of game cartridges on the bed, wide with judgement. "And the TV? Kinda screams single-divorced-dad overcompensation. And I speak from experience."

"Oh, are you a divorced single dad, too?" Sam joked.

George snorted and corrected, "Raised by one… well, on Wednesdays and every other weekend. And he worked weekends… and most Wednesdays, so…" She trailed off with a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug and Sam nodded, understanding the semi-absent dad thing.

"I can definitely relate to the unavailable father," Sam's tone was serious but there was a smile on his face.

George stared at him curiously for a minute, Supernatural episodes flashing in her mind, and then nodded, "Oh, yeah, I guess you can." She was still getting used to television characters being real people. When he furrowed his brow curiously at her, she quickly said, "Anyway, yea, uh-expensive presents helped ease my dad's guilt about not really being there. That's how I got most of my video game experience." Just as he opened his mouth to respond, she held out a beer with a questioning look and said, "I think I owe you one or two of these? Although, seeing as this one is also from your fridge, think of this as more of a symbolic gesture. Since I can't actually repay you."

He chuckled and took the beer with a soft, "Thank you. And, no repayment needed. Trust me, we're just happy to be able to help. All of you." He was referring to the people from the camp again and she grimaced as a twinge of guilt zapped through her. Lying to him made her feel awful.

While it seemed like Jack was focused on unboxing the TV and not paying much attention to them, she held up the other beer and asked quietly, "Can he? I wasn't sure if you let him, but I brought it just in case."

Sam frowned a little and shrugged, "My brother lets him and I… choose my battles," he finished with a sigh. George smiled and nodded understandingly.

Seeing Jack was still preoccupied, she shrugged after a moment and offered, "Well, I don't normally drink beer but I can just say it's mine? He may not even ask for one."

Sam nodded appreciatively, snapping the bottle cap off his and tossing it into the garbage can in the corner. As she watched him raise the cold bottle to his lips, she couldn't help but stare at his gorgeous, newly bearded face. As he took a swig, her mouth went dry. Luckily, she was able to look away just before he caught her staring and she mentally kicked herself.

He raised an eyebrow at her when he noticed she didn't join him. Setting his drink down on the desk next to him, he reached out to take the unopened beer from her. "Ya know, it's more believable that you're drinking it, if it's actually open?"

"Oh, right," She let out a 'heh' of embarrassment as he popped the cap off and tossed it into the can as well. Taking it back from him, she admitted, "Like I said, not a big beer drinker."

With a teasing expression, he said, "Hmm… but really anything you drink out of a bottle has to be opened first, right?"

She blushed and smirked at his ribbing. Forcing herself not to laugh with all her might-made more difficult by the fact that she could see him trying not to smirk-she simply said, "Well, like I said, I was a latchkey kid. I typically drink strictly from the garden hose."

Jack finally looked over at them, finished plugging the TV in, and called to her, "George, come check the games!"

She grinned at the small "HA!" he let out at her joke. With a small, mental shrug, she lifted the beer and took a swig.

Fuck it, maybe it'll help calm my nerves. She then heard a smug sing-songy voice say, famous last words.

She walked over and looked at the cartridges that were laid out on his bed, "Nice! Oh, no way! Perfect Dark?!" She picked up the game and clutched it excitedly, "I totally forgot about this one!"

"Yea, I picked up a couple extras that weren't on the list. I hope that's OK, they just looked interesting," Jack said nervously.

"Of course it's OK! You might end up hating my game suggestions-not that that's possible because I have the best taste, obviously, but still. I'm glad you have a few to try on your own." Her grin increased as she looked at the game in her hand again, getting lost down memory lane for a moment. This game had gotten her through some rough patches.

She set it down and glanced over the few that were unfamiliar to her. "These ones I've never played before, so that'll be great. You'll get to actually figure out a few on your own."

"Will it be hard?" He wondered.

"Probably. And you'll most likely get so frustrated that you'll want to tear your hair out and throw the console against a wall. But, it'll be so freaking fun you can't stop. As Charles Dickens said, 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times'."

Sam laughed, picking his beer back up and taking another drink. George couldn't help but grin, drinking hers as well.

Damn if I'm not addicted to that sound.

While Jack was trying to get the console set up, he struggled to hook the system up to the small flat screen he'd placed on his dresser. George came over to help. After a moment, she identified the problem.

Holding up the console's composite cable she huffed, "This TV doesn't have RCA ports!"

"What?!" Sam 'pffted,' coming over to check it, running his hands along the back. When he found nothing, he stood back and put his hands on his hips, "Are you saying we're actually going to have to use our crappy old TVs for this?" He shook his head in disbelief.

George shrugged, "Eh, at least it gives him an authentic experience?"

A short while later they had the system set up on an old tube set and the three of them were playing a few rounds of Mario Kart 64. Jack was sitting cross legged on the edge of his bed. On the floor to his left was Sam, slouching against the bed with his legs stretched out long in front of him. George was to his right, with her knees bent and her feet planted on the ground, sitting straighter upright but also leaning against the bed.

In terms of play, all three were taking it serious. George was a little rusty but her muscle memory helped her quickly grab and keep first place almost every round. Jack was picking it up surprisingly quick but struggled with the strategic aspect of trap setting and disabling opponents. Sam needed a lap to get used to the buttons, but was now smoking Jack and catching up to George with ease.

At the moment they were in the middle of the second lap of their fourth round. Surprising everyone except George and Sam (because they threw it), Jack had won the first round and was very proud of himself. Unfortunately for Jack, he got a little too proud of himself. Her competitive side had roared to life at his boisterous celebration and the boys ate George's dust on the second and third rounds.

Sober George would have known better than to agree to another round. She would never admit it, but Sam had been hot on her tail the entire last round; he'd definitely be able to beat her by the next one. Unfortunately for her, she'd already finished her second beer and was feeling real cocky when they'd both demanded another round of her.

She had warned dramatically, "Alright, but if you're gonna take a shot at the Queen, you better not miss."

George was fairly far out in front and feeling great, when Sam's Peach shot a red shell at her Yoshi and she wasn't able to avoid it. As her Yoshi tumbled, George watched Peach fly past her into first place, a string of inventive curses flew out of her mouth, explaining in detail exactly where she thought Sam could put his red shells. He couldn't help but give her a quick, amused 'wtf' expression at her colorful vocabulary but she was too busy mashing her buttons to get back in gear again.

Just as she was gaining back on him, she gasped when Yoshi flipped over again. Another red shell.

"The FU-JACK!?" Her jaw dropped at Jack, whose Mario drove by and was now in second place. George let out a frustrated screech as the two men high fived each other over Sam's shoulder.

"Looks like we didn't miss, your royal highness," Sam teased, then dodged a kick to the shin with an evil laugh.

When Yoshi was upright and ready to go again, she pressed the A button down so hard her finger turned white. Pulling out all the stops to try and catch up to them again, she finally hit a mystery box. It took all her might to refrain from jumping for joy when three red shells appeared around her kart. Neither Jack nor Sam had noticed. Falsely confident that they'd disabled her, they'd devolved from their joint effort to take her down and were now going against each other. Jack lucked into hitting Sam with a tossed banana peel but Sam was able to out maneuver him on the next few turns and had scooted ahead again already.

George continued to gain on them, using her memory of the course to cut every corner she could and climb her way back up to third place. Sam and Jack were neck and neck, nearing the finish line on the final lap, and smack talking each other. They were barely paying attention to her and she waited for just the right time, before mashing her trigger button. Her red shells launched rapid fire. She watched with glee as Peach and Mario flipped over and stalled mere feet from the finish line.

As Yoshi sailed past them both and crossed in first place, George leapt up from her spot on the floor in triumph, "YES!" Sam and Jack flinched in pain; they were pretty sure everyone in the bunker had heard that.

"Tried to take me out, huh?" She asked Sam, then turned to Jack, "Didn't think I could get back up, did you? How ya like me now?" They were both trying to hide their annoyed grins and she continued, "You want to know why I always play Yoshi? Because he ain't a BITCH, and Neither. Am. I." She mic-dropped her controller onto the bed and did a victory dance in place. "Both. Of. Y'all. Can. SUuuUUuuUUuck. IiiiiIIiIIiiiIIiiit!" She sang joyfully, punching her arms into the air.

"Suck what?" Jack mumbled at Sam in exasperation, bummed that he'd lost again.

"Er-Nothing. It's just a saying, don't worry about it," The other man assured with a nervous throat clearing.

George quickly stepped over Sam's outstretched legs to the open space at the foot of Jack's bed. Jutting out her hip and placing a firm hand on it, she promptly began cat walking back and forth while singing, "Walk, walk, fashion baby. Work it. Move. That Bitch cuh-ray-zee." Jack was far more annoyed at losing than Sam, but they were both incredibly amused at her flamboyant, over-the-top reaction.

Sam watched her display with a smile and, after a moment, commented, "OK, Cindy Crawford, I'm cutting you off."

Pausing her catwalking to victory dance in front of him, she then lobbed, "And why? Don't like having your ass handed to you by a drunk woman?"

"You LUCKED out with all those red shells, George!" Jack argued defiantly.

"Now, now, Jack. Don't be a sore loser," George admonished jokingly, still wiggling her hips in delight.

"Yea, you're clearly only allowed to be a sore winner around here," Sam said pointedly with a chuckle. When George froze mid victory dance, her butt no longer bouncing in front of him, Sam regretted saying anything.

She scrunched her nose at him in offense, holding her hands up in surrender, "OK, fine. Yes. If it hadn't been for those red shells I would have been in third place."

Sam gave her a smug grin and said, "That's right."

She continued sweetly, "And obviously Jack would have won." A triumphant smile spread on Jack's face and he nodded his head in gracious acceptance of her determination.

"Thank you, yes-wait, what?" Sam started to agree with her and then it registered what she'd actually said. He did a double take. She knew darn well Sam would have won that round, but the smirk on her face told him she'd never admit it. Curiously, he was as turned on as he was infuriated.

Then, George added, "But the entire game is luck, dude! Most video games are. If you can't handle this, I would stay away from Mario Party," She warned in a serious tone.

Jack and Sam exchanged a serious look, then looked back at George. They had the same determined expression and Jack said, "Let's do it," while Sam nodded in agreement. He was having fun for the first time in weeks.

Maybe months, he thought grimly. He also hoped she'd say yes so he could do everything in his power to make her win and score another full frontal victory dance.

George laughed a little and nodded, "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you. It's fun as hell, but no one wins at Mario Party. No. One," She finished ominously.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom before we keep going," Jack got up and headed for the door. He turned back with a thoughtful look on his face and said, "I might go to the kitchen for some snacks, too. Do you want anything?"

George shrugged, "Well, here's the situation Jack: I'm gonna say no but I will most likely steal some of whatever you bring back. So, I would say just accommodate for that and you should be golden."

Sam chuckled and said out of the corner of his mouth, "There's a life lesson in women if I've ever heard one." He avoided acknowledging the dirty look she shot him and shook his head at Jack, "Nothing for me, thanks."

After Jack left, George gave Sam a suspicious look and teased, "No more beer? Hmm, I see what you're doing."

Sam gave her a 'feigned innocence' expression and murmured, "Hmm?"

"You can stop drinking all you want; I can beat you, sober or not," Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a mean mug.

He chuckled, but said, "Truthfully, asking Jack to bring me a beer felt a little-"

"Alcoholic single dad?" George finished with a laugh and he joined her, nodding in agreement.

"Right," Sam pointed a quick finger in the air. "Not a great look," He said, standing up with a groan. "Yikes, shouldn't have been slouching like that. The older I get the less forgiving my back is."

"Have you ever tried a massage?" She asked, almost absentmindedly as she was distracted by him. His full height always took her breath away at first; she loved it.

Sam considered her question for a moment. Looking her over appreciatively, he asked with a teasingly incredulous tone, "No. Why, are you offering?"

That snapped George out of her stupor and she blinked rapidly. Thinking she hadn't heard him correctly, she asked "Oh, what? Oh, no! Er-I-I mean, I just, I wouldn't know where to begin. What? No, I mean I wouldn't know what I was doing. Not-no, I know what I'm doing I just-I'm not a professional. I-" Stop talking. Stop talking, now! George felt a bit warm and started fanning herself, "Hoo d'awgy, is it hot in here or just me? Maybe you should cut me off," She finished with a nervous laughter.

He had watched her nervous, adorable rambling gleefully, chuckling once or twice. Whenever he was near her, an eerie pressure would build in his chest that was reminiscent of feelings he'd thought were long since lost to him. He realized it was that feeling that spurred him on to be so flirtatious. At her last statement though, he reigned himself in and answered her question more earnestly to help break the tension and give her a chance to calm down, "I'm not so big on strangers touching me. And I worry about how sanitary those places are," he finished with an exaggerated shudder.

It had been kind of him to cut her a break, but when he started stretching out the kinks from his prolonged seat on the floor, any chance she had of calming down disappeared. She couldn't help but admire his physique. Her eyes trailed his body once over but then quickly settled back on his beard. She could kill the show producers for not letting him be bearded sooner than Season 14. 'Smoldering' didn't even begin to cover it.

She hadn't realized that she'd gotten lost in thought about those sexy whiskers until she heard his throat clearing. Widening in horror, her eyes quickly met his, which looked half amused, half curious.

With a lick of his lips, which made George's brows furrow with desire, he asked gently, "Is there something on my face?"

"No!" Gulping, she blushed from head to toe. After thinking about it for a split second, she heard a buzzed voice in her head say fuck it, you've already embarrassed yourself. Tilting her head to the side, she boldly proclaimed, "Well, actually…Yeah!" A nervous chuckle escaped her lips as she tried to figure out how to say this without giving anything away. In her inebriated state, she finally settled on, "The last time I saw you, your face was less… Hagrid?"

Sam let out a loud laugh, a look of mock offense on his face. She covered her mouth as she snickered, realizing maybe that wasn't the nicest thing to say.

"Oh, wow! Hagrid, huh? I… Well, I'm not sure how to take that. Maybe I should go shave real quick," He teased sadly, rubbing a slow hand over his beard. It made her weak kneed.

"No! Please don't! I'm sorry," She leaned forward and gently squeezed his forearm with both her hands, then let go. "I was just trying to make you laugh! And I couldn't think of an attractive bearded man reference fast enough; Hagrid was the next best thing."

"Nah, you're right. Hagrid was good; you had to do it," He shrugged in acceptance. Squinting at her curiously, he asked, "But, just to clarify, you don't think I look like Hagrid, right?"

She snorted and then looked unsure. As she spoke she slowly craned her neck up, "Well, now that you mention it, he was half-giant!" Another laugh escaped him and she bit her lip to keep from grinning. The sound mixed with the beer was lowering her inhibitions a bit and she ran her eyes over him quickly in appreciation. Before she could stop herself, she assured him, "Seriously, though. The beard looks good. You look…" All the descriptions she could think of were too inappropriate even for her less inhibited state. Finally, she breathed, her eyes wide for emphasis, "good."

Sam gave her a shy, sexy smile and he looked down at the ground for a minute. She could swear the skin of his cheeks near the top of his beard was slightly pink.

Was he hiding a blush behind all that rugged? George wondered, watching him closely. Her stomach was nearly painfully tingling with nausea; she knew she should stop but fuck, when was she ever going to get this opportunity again?

Sam looked back up at her, the look in his eyes making her gulp, and asked with a questioning shrug, "'Good,' huh?"

George could tell he was baiting her but unfortunately her rational side was beating her horny/ buzzed side back with a stick, trying to keep control. So, she simply nodded and gave him a flirty smile, confirming, "Yes. Good." The word came out as a painful purr that caused Sam's eyes to darken curiously. George unconsciously licked her lips; it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

"Hmm," was the noise that broke the silence finally, rumbling heavily from Sam's chest. He was feeling very conflicted. For one, the alcohol was obviously affecting her and he wasn't trying to take advantage. But also, she was causing him to feel a lot of intense and strange feelings, feelings that hadn't been stirred up in years, and he couldn't explain why. He'd just met her! Knew almost nothing about her, yet he was flirting with her left, right, and center like he was… well, Dean! It felt so comfortable around her; he felt a calming sense of ease, as though his life wasn't a giant crapshoot of terrible day in and day out. That feeling should have been foreign to him but it wasn't completely. That's what terrified and confused him.

They'd been staring intensely at each other. George thought it seemed like he was holding himself back; she recognized the look and assumed it was the same one on her face right now. Running a suddenly nervous hand through his hair, he huffed a little and smiled.

"Well… thank you," His tone sounded as sincere as it did nervous. "I-"

Just then Jack came back and broke the tension in the room. George released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and turned to look at him. Balancing in his arms were two packs of red vines, one large bag of peanut M&Ms, six beef jerky sticks, two 'sharin' size' bags of Cheetos, and four Yoohoos.

The intensity of the previous moment paired with the absurd amount of food made her exclaim, "Dude!" The laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it; she got near tears. Sam joined her with distinct but far less intense chuckles at Jack's attempts to interpret George's earlier instructions.

"What?" Jack asked curiously, "You asked me to account for you wanting some! I figured it was more efficient to just bring you your own."

"Ah, yes, a classic mistake, Jack. Half the fun is eating the other person's food," Sam teased.

George shook her head and sighed out the last of her laughter, "Oh, man. That was great. OK, I have to pee and then we'll have a talk about appropriate food portions before the game. Also, the fact that you brought peanut M&Ms and not caramel is near criminal."

Sam followed her out the door, saying, "I think I've changed my mind on that beer. I'll be right back, too."

"Grab me one?" She requested over her shoulder and he nodded affirmatively.

On her way back to Jack's room, George was wringing her hands nervously. Her mind was racing; she'd barely been able to concentrate on peeing! There was a heated debate going on in her head about what the hell she thought she was doing. A very large, very selfish part of her had not wanted to hold herself back. But she was skating on thin ice. Thin? Try imaginary! You seriously believe Sam Winchester is flirting with you? You have lost your damn mind. You look like a bumbling moron to him. A total Becky! Not to mention, he's a 10 and you're an Idaho six, if we're being generous.

The unnecessarily hurtful arguing in her head silenced instantly when she rounded the corner and found Sam in the hallway, sans beer. He was nervously pacing about 6 feet from Jack's room. She gulped; he looked agitated all of a sudden. Was he about to give her a talk about being inappropriate and how they should just "be friends?" She heard a voice sing-song in her head: I told you so, six.

Forcing herself to move forward once again, she tried to steal herself for the blow. To her surprise, his expression shifted to regret when he noticed her finally.

"Hey," He started, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but-" he held up his phone with a grimace.

"You have a hunt," George finished slowly with an understanding-and incredibly relieved-head nod. She watched Sam glance back at Jack's room with sad eyes. It clicked after a moment and she added with a less understanding tone, "And you want me to keep Jack distracted while you go?"

Sam gave her an adorable, pleading face, "Yes, please? I already broke the news to him and he's… upset about not being able to come."

George frowned, "Dude, are you seriously leaving me here by myself to entertain him? Sam!" She stomped her foot quietly, mock upset, "I don't know anything about what young adults are into these days. SnapChat? Four Loco? Miley Cyrus?!"

"Hey, look at this as an opportunity to finally play those real deep cuts from Avril," Sam joked back and George punched his arm gently; both laughed.

"OK, but really, do you have any tips for how to handle a teenage boy who's pissed because he can't go kill things?" She looked nervously toward Jack's room. "How do I cheer him up?"

"Well, I think we both know what you're going to have to do," Sam said with a deep, apologetic sigh. George raised an eyebrow curiously. Sam raised both of his and widened his eyes with a pointed head tilt in response. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she began to see where he was going with this and his head started nodding slowly.

"No," George said matter of factly, starting to shake her head. "No!"

"Look, I know it's not ideal, but-"

"I refuse!" She dug her heels in and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Now, now," He began in the same tone you would use to speak to a toddler. "You asked how to make him happy."

"I am not going to debase myself like that, Sam. No!"

"Listen, I know it's hard! But you've done it once already! Was it really tha-"

"Horrible! You of all people should understand why this is a terrible thing to ask! You had to do it once, too!" She uncrossed her arms and pointed at him, demanding, "Look me in the eye and tell me a little piece of your soul didn't die the last time?"

"Oh it wasn't that bad," Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That's easy for you to say, Sam! You're bad at it! But, I have a reputation to protect!"

"OK, Kinicki, well if you want Jack to have fun, you're going to have to suck it up and let him win at Mario Kart!" When she huffed, shaking her head in continued defiance, he rolled his eyes and offered a compromise, "Every once in a while!"

After a few moments of mean mugging each other, neither one willing to give in, they both just started laughing. Once their laughter died down, he gave her a serious, apologetic expression and said, "Georgia, I really am sorry to do this… I was having fun."

As he used her full name, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. With a gentle shake of her head, she waved him off, "Don't be sorry; you have to go. And truly, I don't mind. Jack's actually a pretty cool kid…" She trailed off and then furrowed her brow in mock concern, "or am I a lame adult?"

He chucked, then shrugged and said, "Well, if you are then I am."

"Good thing Dean didn't hear you say that," She joked, shooting a finger gun at him. The look on his face in response was indiscernible and she kicked herself. "Shit, sorry. That was insensitive. With Michael and everything, I-I didn'-"

Sam waved his hand in the air and cut her off, "Nah, I know you didn't mean anything by it. I was just thinking how accurate the statement was, yet… you haven't met Dean, right?"

Her eyebrows went up in sobered surprise. Shit. She gulped and stuttered out, "Oh-right-no, that's right. I haven't… I-I just, uh, I know what it's like to have a big brother! He's-he is your big brother, right? I mean, I think I've heard Jack or someone say that…" Sam's brows furrowed further, looking at her curiously and nodding slowly in confirmation. "Right, well, yea. I just-I figured since Dean was your big brother, he'd relish the opportunity to make a comment about you being a loser. I know my brother certainly lived for it." She felt like he could tell she was sweating and it made her sweat more.

"Uh huh," Sam said with a slow drawl, not entirely convinced.

As George watched him she became less nervous, realizing that there was a lot of pain behind his bright hazel eyes. It was obvious that he was really worried about his brother; her heart twinged in empathy.

Without thinking, she placed a hand on his forearm and gripped tightly. With a comforting smile she promised, "Don't worry, Sam. You'll find Dean soon."

Sam felt as if the wind knocked out of his lungs as an intense burst of deja vu hit him. It couldn't be… that had been a dream. A fake dream at that! All part of the trickster's mind games trying to get him to give up on saving Dean. Obviously, there was no way this was the same woman. Yet he knew he'd heard that consolation before. From her, he felt sure. But how would he have dreamt about a woman from an alternate reality?

She jumped when she heard someone shout from down the hall, "Sam!"

George was panicking internally. He'd flinched at her words and the look on his face made her sick to her stomach. She let go of his arm quickly. Had she gone too far? Had she offended him? Was he just disgusted at being touched by her? A million thoughts raced through her mind as a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

Sam snapped out of his stupor and furrowed his brow a bit. "COMING!" He boomed in their direction and then looked back at her in apology. Though he still seemed perturbed by something.

George smiled understandably, eternally grateful for the interruption, and began before he could say anything, "You have to go! I'll keep an eye on Jack for a while longer. But I swear to God if he starts trying to talk to me about Fortnite or TikTok or FOOTBALL: I'm. Out."

Sam had moved around her, slowly starting to head for the map room, "Football?"

"I just really hate sports," She deadpanned with a shrug, turning her body around to follow him.

He chucked and nodded, "Ah. Noted." He bowed to her slightly as he backed away, "Well, Thank you again. I owe you a beer now… or maybe a massage?" He offered innocently, adding, "I may not be a professional, but I definitely know what I'm doing." He watched just long enough to see her jaw drop, then with a wink, he turned and left.

When she'd mopped herself up from the floor and had finally started breathing again, George looked up to the ceiling and begged, "I have thirty five thousand dollars in savings and retirement and it's all yours for a copy!"

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #eventual fluff #eventual relationship #eventual romance #eventual dean winchester x oc #eventual dean winchester x castiel #bi!dean

1 note · View note

eloarei · 5 years ago

Note

1, 2, 3, 7, 9, 13, 17, 23 (some of these are random and some aren't)

Thanks for the many questions, Socks! Sorry I didn’t answer them earlier; I decided answering asks on mobile sucks. ALSO, this is going to be super long haha sorry. 1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it? Well, my most current project is one I just started brainstorming. It’s (hopefully gonna be) a Fallout 3 series, with my latest fic being the starting point. LW/Fawkes is a ship I liked immediately when I played the series some years ago, but I never got around to writing for it, probably in part because there’s already a super good longfic about them, and I just didn’t think there was much else I could say. But my LW is different from Choco’s LW, and lately I wanted to start something self-indulgent. Although I have enough ideas for this to maybe be a single 30k fic, I’m choosing to do a series of shortfics instead, so that I’m not burdening myself with another long project. Fic series are great in that way, because it’s basically complete with every new fic. On top of that, I have... probably 3 other things I want to make significant progress on this year. First is another Fallout fic: Same Heart. I’ve posted 8 chapters already and have almost 2 more done, but due to the slow-build nature of it (and my tagging) I don’t expect to have almost any readers until at least chapter 10 (when the ship characters finally meet). I’d like to at least get that far this year. A project I’d love to finish by fall is the unreleased “The Wilderness”, a Venom zombie AU that I started for NaNoWriMo 2 years ago. It’s about 55% written, and my goal is to have as much of it done as possible before the sequel movie comes out. If it’s not done by then, I still plan to post whatever I have. And lastly-ish, my novel... thing. Rogue. I’m in the process of editing it, although I’ve taken kind of a break lately. And as soon as I’m done with the edits and can get a couple of people to read it (just so they can tell me if certain parts are stupid and need changed) I plan to start the next book in the series... which will probably end up being book #1, actually, if I do them modern-era chronologically. It’s... gonna be a process. ^^; 2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project. In my upcoming FO3 fic series, I’m honestly just kind of weirdly looking forward to... how do I put this? Exploring my own vaguely-traumatic experiences through fic. I’ll always do a happy ending, if possible, but before we get there I really want to run these two through the ringer of... being given something they were led to believe was impossible, being judged for it, having it taken away, and then being told “well maybe it’s for the best”. When it comes to future projects, I guess I’m really excited about writing the new Rogue book. “Reaper”, I guess, is its unimaginative working title. I’m anxious about it, because I thought Rogue had some really deeply emotional scenes, and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to accomplish that as well with this new one, simply because the characters don’t have the same level of desperation about each other. I need to figure out what’s unique about their dynamic and push that. I guess I’m looking forward to the challenge. 3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway) Hmm gosh. Technically there’s a scene in the later chapters of Mobius that I already wrote, but it wouldn’t take place until probably chapter 3 or later, and I just lost all steam on that fic, sadly. But every time I poke through my notes I make myself cry reading it. It’s a scene where one character knows it’s going to be the last time he sees the person he loves most, and he can’t explain his pain to anyone. I really just want to get there so I can see if it makes other people cry like babies haha. But on a completely unrelated note, there’s also this ZADR fic I started writing in like 2009, and I absolutely didn’t want to do the work to get to the fun middle scenes, but basically it was an AU where young adult Dib went to live/work in the thriving multi-species space community, where he’s... I dunno, studying alien biology I think?, and he ends up with Zim as a roommate. The scenes I really wanted to write were about the two of them getting into like a bar fight with some tough types, and Zim gets his pak ripped off/damaged in the process, and Dib has to sort of take care of him through a horrible fever. But then it turns out that the pak was not a life-support system like they thought, but actually a growth inhibitor so they (the people in charge of the Irkens) could choose who became the Tallest (the leaders). (And also it hindered reproduction, etc.) So basically the two of them accidentally start to unravel a galactic conspiracy which also involves corruption in the Earth government, etc, and Zim gets taller but spoiler alert, he still doesn’t get tall enough to challenge the Tallest lol. Sadly, I doubt I’ll ever actually write that fic. Sounds like too much effort lol. 7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree? That’s such a hard question. Ummm. How do I put any of that into words? ...I think one of the things about my writing is that a lot of the time nothing really happens in a scene, and the story mostly focuses on a character thinking. Like, enough happens so there’s something for them to think about, but I think I tend to put a lot of emphasis on POV character’s thoughts, to the point of sometimes seeming stream-of-consciousness. I’ve been told that this makes my stories feel alive though? So I think it appeals to some people, though I’m sure others would find such stories boring. Oh also, somewhat along these lines, I like to add commentary that is only somewhat relevant, usually in parenthesis at the end of a sentence or paragraph. (Honestly, it’s not unusual to see one in every paragraph if I’m writing something slightly humorous.) 9. Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other? I would LOVE to write primarily longfics! However, I just don’t have the time or energy for it, and I don’t write fast enough. So I end up with a lot of oneshots under 10k. I had to challenge myself to learn to write short things though, and then it’s really about writing something short, not about writing a specific story. Generally, I’m both pantster and plotter. I tend to write the first chapter/few scenes/maybe as much as 10k, just by the seat of my pants. After that, I look at what I’ve got and write out a plot to continue from there. Plotting everything out before I start just doesn’t work for me, but if I try “pantsing” anything longer than 15k I know I’m gonna have an absolute torturous hell of a time. 13. Do you share your writing online? (Drop a link!) Do you have projects you’ve kept just for yourself? Lol I think anyone who’s reading this knows I share my stuff online. Primarily on my AO3, though there’s some other stuff floating around here on tumblr too. Most of the time if I keep something to myself it’s only because it’s not finish enough to share. So, sure, there’s plenty of that, but the goal is always to share it eventually. If I ever get around to finishing a novel, those will probably be the only things I don’t just post online. (Though I do post most of my OC stuff currently.) 17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations? I think that inevitably my readers will always perceive me and my writing a bit differently than I do. That’s just... interacting with people. Nobody knows you entirely. However, I am as open and honest in my writing as possible, and I actually think that reading my fic is the best way to get to know me. I like to hope that I am an open book to anyone who has read many of my words. =] While you may not know the details of my life, I think you would have a good insight into my personality. 23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest? Like... my oldest fic/story that I’ve never written or posted? Not counting stuff I’ve consciously abandoned (things from middle school, mostly), my original fic series, “Damsel and Company in Distress” aka DamselCo. is definitely my oldest story. I think I started fiddling with it in 2006-- which makes it pretty disappointing that it’s gotten next to nowhere. XD; But the story is my baby, and it’s been my baby for so long that anyone who’s followed me ever is probably at least vaguely familiar with a few of the characters. Now maybe one day I’ll actually give it the attention it deserves, though I’m sure it’ll need significant revamping. After all, a lot has changed in 14+ years. Ideas that were new and subversive then are probably already stale.

#elo talks #elo fics #ask meme #writing #long post #braincoins

5 notes · View notes

bookenders · 5 years ago

Note

Storyteller saturday! What was the first thing you knew that /had to be/ included in your wips? What's special about it? What is giving your motivation to work on your current projects? What's a neat worldbuilding thing you came up with?

Storyteller Saturday!

Hey hey @timefire25! Thanks so much for the asks, friend!

I’m gonna tackle these fantastic questions in order:

[H2H = Heart to Heart

FF = Fish Food

AOPC = All Our Painted Colors

TND = The Neither Days]

1. What was the first thing you knew that /had to be/ included in your wips?

H2H: Lesbians. Happy, live-beyond-the-end-of-the-story lesbians who can do magic and are ridiculously wholesome. Also: a strong, loving community; social commentary; enough fluff to stuff a whole set of pillows; cool science stuff.

FF: Humor! Without it, this story would be super duper way too dark. Also, lots of social commentary on… *checks notes*

That. And legit depictions of mental health issues.

AOPC: A culture centered around ART. I love art. And stories.

TND: Okay so there’s this one scene coming up that’s super rad and I’m really excited about it. It’s been in my head since the beginning and it’s like, the second scene I thought up. I love the imagery and the symbolism and the feelings. It’s great.

2. What’s special about it?

H2H: Sometimes you need to read something that will make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Fluff makes the world go ‘round, ya know? And lesbians gotta survive. Also, I’m passionate about found families, which is why the story has one at its very center. I love writing stories about people who don’t feel at home somewhere, so they find with other people who feel the same and call a new place theirs. It’s an important thing to learn: there’s always somewhere for you, and always someone out there who can catch your drift.

FF: Stories like this one are ways to see the truth of reality. Okay, that sounded super intense. What I mean is that this is a story about a group of people who have been used coming together to fight back against a system that’s doing its best to tear them down. Including accurate and respectful depictions of mental health in this story is important to me, too. I feel like this genre is a great place to explore that.

Also, I need to work on my humor writing so that’s pretty special, I guess.

AOPC: I loved the idea of a culture based on art. What do they value? How to they keep records of events and their history? How do they share information? What do they hold dear? It’s sort of my own version of the Legato Conservatory, for those who listen to TAZ. I don’t know of any other fantasy cultures 100% centered on art, either. It’s a story about storytelling and all the ways you can use it. And I think that’s pretty special.

TND: The metaphor and the symbolism, with the context of the canon, is so full of feels it makes my heart clench. It’s an unexpected coming together, a reaching out of two hands that meet in the middle while the world spins off-kilter around them. It’s an oh and a gasp in the same breath. It’s a fall that feels like flying.

That’s about as poetic as I can get without spoilers.

3. What is giving your motivation to work on your current projects?

Right now, not much, to be honest. It’s midterms time and I’m a grad student, so life is pretty much study hell right now. But my stories are my creative therapy, so I expect I’ll start writing again pretty soon after all my business chills out.

But on the regular: I really want to tell everyone about the big giant spoilers and how they happen in H2H, and one of the big confrontation scenes in FF (seriously, it’s a huge twist I don’t think a lot of people will see coming - one of them anyway 😉), and I want to figure out what the hell happens next in AOPC, and in TND, I really want to get to the switched POV chapter because it’s full of mutual pining and it offers a lot of really good insight into one character’s head (it’s my motivation to finish this transition chapter too because it’s taking forever).

4. What’s a neat worldbuilding thing you came up with?

H2H: The magic types I developed are pretty cool! Astromancy, Totem Magic, Sigilcrafting, and Pact Magic. There are a few others, but that’d be spoilers, my friend. Making these info posts was also very fun. I got to do nerdy research about magic and science!

And something I haven’t mentioned yet: liminal spaces are very important in this story! The town of Linsay is a liminal space. Gemma’s house is a liminal space. The police station is a liminal space for Oz. The lake is a liminal space. This is important: transformation takes place at liminal places. Magic is strongest there. The old is left behind and the new is just ahead. And the fae inhabit liminal spaces.

FF: I made a WIP page that mimics the Coalition of Heroes’ database! It took forever and it was really hard but I did it! And I think it looks rad.

In-world, hmm… I really like Lithium’s bar. It’s a place that’s like a hero-themed TGI Friday’s or Red Robin, and it’s also the hangout for off-duty heroes. They all chill there like it’s a cop bar for officers who are all undercover. It’s great. None of the civilians who go there know that they’re sitting next to high level super heroes. And Lithium thinks it’s hilarious.

AOPC: There are so many cool worldbuilding things in this story. One is the marriage ceremony I made up. The couple stands before the Namestone and the most senior Elder binds the bride’s left hand to the groom’s right. Then the men of the tribe line up behind the groom, and the women line up behind the bride. They’re ordered so the people closest to them, like family and lifelong friends, are first. One by one, the women dip their right hands in purple paint and mark the bride’s back with their hand print. The men do the same with green paint on the groom’s back.

After everyone’s marked the bride and groom, the Elder blesses the couple, holds their foreheads together, and then they turn around and press their backs together, mixing the paint and blending the colors together. The party starts as soon as their hands are unbound.

TND: Since most of the worldbuilding for this has already been done by the canon, here are a few recurring story threads I’m working with: Crowley vs. ducks, liminal spaces being the most comfortable and calming, “a good shock to loosen the tongue,” and the kinds of miracles that don’t work.

Thank you so much for these awesome questions!! 💜

I’ll add my tag lists since there’s a lot of information worth tagging about:

H2H

WIP Intro Post | H2H WIP Tag | Character Page | WIP Page | PowerPoint Intro

Character Tags: Gemma | Mel | The Ladies | Fred Coriander | Officer Oz

H2H Tag List: @katekyo-bitch-reborn, @cawolters, @wasting-ink-not-youth, @quilloftheclouds, @snickertoodles, @mvcreates, @writeness, @half-explored, @dcdarrells, @aslanwrites, @minusfractions, @purpleshadows1989, @royalbounties, @waterfallwritings, @the-clockwork-anything, @kriss-the-writing-nerd, @abalonetea, @timefirewrites, @tricksexual, @introspective-outreach, @alternativeforensicscientist, @sumoranges, @hermiones-writeblrr

[Let me know if you want to be added or removed!]

AOPC

AOPC Tag List: @quilloftheclouds, @snickertoodles, @half-explored, @chemistwriter, @purpleshadows1989, @waterfallwritings, @kriss-the-writing-nerd, @abalonetea, @alternativeforensicscientist, @hermiones-writeblrr

WIP Intro Post | FF WIP Tag | WIP Page | PowerPoint Intro

OC Intro Post: Phase 1 | Phase 2

Individual Intros:

Phase 1 (Main Cast): Iron Will | Overseer | Lithium | Babylon | Nightmare

Phase 2 (Supporting Cast): Sparkplug | Battalion | Ferro

***

[Let me know if you want to be added or removed!]

Fish Food Tag List: @theevolutionofledarose, @kriss-the-writing-nerd, @quilloftheclouds, @waterfallwritings, @dontwritethatone, @aeschknight, @abalonetea, @ladywithalamp, @writevevo, @danger-writes, @anika-writes-things, @sunlight-and-starskies, @writing-every-other-star, @shadeshadow234, @jaimistoryteller, @leave-her-a-tome, @dowings, @alternativeforensicscientist, @sumoranges, @notanalien51, @hermiones-writeblrr

TND

Link to Story | Story Tag

TND Tag List: @every-book-has-a-secret, @at-thezenith, @ofinkblotsandscript, @alternativeforensicscientist, @abalonetea

15 notes · View notes

thechekhov · 7 years ago

Note

how would you recommend an artist make themselves better known on tumblr and in general? ive been drawing and painting almost my whole life but its hard to get people to notice me, any advice? thank you, you're my fave artist

Thank you so much! That makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside…

As for your questions… hmm… it’s for sure a good one.

I’m going to get a bit… strategical on that one. Hope you don’t mind this approach.

Tumblr and real life are definitely alike in a lot of aspects, while in others they’re polar opposites. For the sake of keeping things neatly shelved, I’m going to focus on tumblr in this post.

＊*☆HOW TO GET ART NOTICED ON TUMBLR☆*＊

by chekhov

1. We have to understand how the tumblr sharing system works.

I know this sounds a bit too obvious. I mean, we all know HOW. It’s by reblogging!

I know that there’s a BIG opinion on tumblr that we should share and reblog art as much as possible to help artists get noticed. And that’s TRUE. It’s absolutely correct.

One thing I don’t agree with on that front is the guilt-tripping factor of it all. Like somehow people are responsible for the downfall of less popular artists because they didn’t reblog stuff enough. People are really quick to point at their followers and say “I GOT 100 OF Y’ALL HERE AND ONLY 3 ARE REBLOGGING ANYTHING”.

I get it. It’s frustrating!

But the fact of the matter is, you can’t force people to reblog stuff.

Instead, I recommend we harvest the power of the sharing we already have. We have to be smart about this. What I’m going to go into is a bit less concrete. We have to think about the PEOPLE who are doing the reblogging.

Artists aren’t the ONLY ones with motivations for getting their stuff seen. And because they create media they are, for lack of a better word… a vendor! The buck STARTS with them, but it doesn’t stop with them.

They have to also think about what the people are going to do with their product once it’s reblogged. Once someone buys from the vendor, they don’t just keep it forever. They distribute it to the others. And sometimes, those others distribute it again. We have to think about the bigger picture, and think about how FAR your art has the potential to go!

So, to get started we need to know… WHO are the ones buying from the vendor… and why?

What kind of rebloggers ARE there?

I’m going to give my own opinion here, and feel free to disagree. But the 3 biggest rebloggers most important to the artist are these:

1. The Pleaser

Sounds sexy, right? In fact, the pleaser comes in many different forms. But essentially their goal is the same - they reblog stuff like aesthetic posts, and other pleasing things. They themselves tend to like a lot of stuff and reblog mostly beautiful photos, nice designs, and lots of fanart of whatever they’re into at the time. Comics and story-like posts are good here (although if they’re too long, people tend to lose interest.)

How to get reblogged by a Pleaser?

Appeal to their fandom, their interest, and make something that moves them. Pleasers are most active around the time when the new episode of their favorite show comes out, or when their favorite holiday comes around. Drawing fanart during its peak popularity will usually catch a Pleasers’ attention, as will drawing aesthetic Halloween posts around, well, Halloween.

2. The Teaser

The Teaser is the class clown and the shitposter, and they reblog memes and jokes voraciously. In the Teaser’s audience are other teasers - and they also tend to be very generous rebloggers. The fact of the matter is - memes sell reblogs faster than any aesthetic art will. We’re social creatures and getting a laugh out of our followers is worth a LOT of fake internet points.

How do I get reblogged by the Teaser?

Memes. I mean, you knew this was coming, right? During the height of some new tumblr joke, people usually welcome any unusual spin, or any funny variation of an old joke.

My meme redraws have consistently been popular and have ‘boomed’ very quickly. For example, this redraw of sapphire from Steven Universe doing ‘the scroll of truth’ jumped to 5k almost within a day.

Many people peek at my page ‘for the lols’ but end up staying for the art, or because there’s another thing I post they’re interested in. Either way, memes are a gateway drug… to your blog.

3. The Librarian

The Librarian is a bit more rare, but they’re still important, because they tend to reblog a lot. They’re a bit unusual in the sense that they do this for themselves, instead of for an audience. The blog of the librarian is mostly just a replacement for bookmarking interesting stuff. These people tend to reblog tutorials, reference posts, and things they want to read later on.

How to get reblogged by a Librarian?

Make things that people want to keep around. Charts, references, tutorials. Chances are, the librarian will snag it up eventually.

Of course, these 3 aren’t the ONLY type of tumblr blogger. In fact, many of them are a mix of these 3. But the main point is…

2. What do most of these (and other) people on tumblr have in common?

Just like you, many people (although not all) want to get their stuff SEEN. You might be creating the original product, but they choose whether or not to distribute it to their audience.

Everyone is playing the same game, no matter which part of the chain they’re on.

You, as an artist, have the biggest responsibility to think about this long-term. Not only 1 reblog down the line.

For example, let’s return to one of my meme-posts that I did about wrist pain (carpal tunnel). When I made this, I had a vague idea of who would consume it. Obviously… other artists. But the reason that this got so popular? Is not only because fellow artists follow me. It’s because the artists that follow me also have followers who are also, conveniently, artists. That’s why despite the fact that many people reblogged the post directly from me - even MORE of them reblogged it from @sergle (shoutout to sergle! u rock) who is also a popular artist and also has an audience who were prone to want to reblog the post.

See that orange dot? That’s me. See that bigger blue dot? That’s sergle.

In a way, this is a game of chance. Will something you reblog be seen by someone with a large enough audience to keep it going? The thing is, we don’t know until it happens. And oftentime, the only way to achieve this is to keep trying. Stubbornly.

But you can’t just headbutt the wall in the same place and hope it eventually crumbles. You have to look for a door.

3. So what’s the door?

Take a look at your art. Is it consumable BEYOND the surface level of your followers?

Sometimes people get discouraged because their fanart is way more popular than their original art. Although I share their frustration, there’s a good reason for this, and your followers aren’t to blame.

The thing is, fanart is consumable at deep reblog levels. If you post fanart, there’s a good chance that even 3-4 reblogs down the line, there’s going to be a person who sees it and thinks ‘hey, I know Steven Universe. My followers know Steven Universe. I’ll reblog this!’ Fandoms are efficient because they already have a lot of context for the consumption of the art. They have a story (humans love stories), they’re invested in it, they’re interested in it, and there’s a good chance that sharing more stuff about it will get them more interaction with their mutuals, even if they’re not consciously thinking about all this as they reblog.

Unfortunately, that’s just not true for your original art. Many of us have beautiful, wonderful stories - but they’re not available to a wide audience. They’re not easily consumed, they’re not easily accessed (in comparison to being on netflix, for example). If you post a picture of your OC - maybe your immediate pool of followers who know that OC will reblog it. But their own followers who aren’t directly following you will not have any connection, emotional or otherwise, to that character. They simply don’t have a reason to care, and they don’t have any means to. Even if they visit your blog - will it be easy to find similar content? Have you got your links available on desktop AND mobile? Is it easy to find the beginning of your story? Is it free of mistakes and easy to read?

Large companies that make shows or comics funnel tons of money into making their media consumable. There’s a LOT of effort that goes into advertising, too. You, as an independent artist, simply don’t have that kind of manpower. That’s not your fault - but it’s also not your followers’ fault. Why are they supposed to reblog things that their own followers will never understand and connect with?

4. Back to square one: how do I get noticed?

I’m gonna keep this short and sweet because I feel like I already took up a lot of your time. After everything I’ve said, hopefully this will make sense:

Make content that has a connection to your audience somehow. Make it relatable to their life. Make it relatable to what’s currently going on. Make it worth their while to look at it.

Make content that’s easy to understand. Super detailed drawings, with nothing to focus on are difficult to digest. Simpler, sharper drawings that someone can understand within 3 seconds of looking at it are the most digestible of all. This isn’t a museum.

If you’re creating content that goes with a story, MAKE THE STORY. I know it’s tempting to create just a whole bunch of character sketch sheets and leave it at that, but you can’t complain about not getting an audience when your audience doesn’t have anything to consume in the first place.

Make the story AVAILABLE. Organize your tags. Make sure those tags are easily accessible. People will never like 100% of your art, so many it easy for them to find what they WILL like.

Don’t be afraid of fanart. Fanart gets you connected with people who like stories and content similar to yours.

Don’t be afraid to follow and reblog people that you want to connect with. Don’t be afraid to make them stuff and @ them.

Post your stuff to a LOT of places! Your audience is somewhere out there - probably not only on tumblr. You have to spread yourself thin sometimes, but make sure the account can all lead back to your main hub.

And last but not least…

Critically re-evaluate your art at least once a year. (I’m personally working on this.) Just because you’ve been drawing for years, and just because your art might be incredible doesn’t mean it’s appealing to people. Sounds weird, right? But think about it - there’s TONS of people who are not that amazing at anatomy, or coloring… but they still have a huge audience, and people connect with their art. A lot of times, it’s because their art is straightforward and easy to read/understand.

Ask a friend to critique your art. Ask them if they understand your work, or if it’s difficult to make out. Ask them what your work inspires in them. Ask them what they DO like about your work - and exaggerate that!

There’s a LOT that goes into art… no matter it’s a whole industry! Doing it all on your own is HARD and it’s a bit unthinkable how much artists have to do to compete with industries. But it’s not impossible, and it’s definitely worth it. :)

Hope I didn’t bore any of y’all who made it down this far.

Thanks!

#reblogging #art #artists on tumblr #arting #Anonymous #long post

3K notes · View notes

glowrioustrash · 6 years ago

Text

Breaking The Law

Summary: Parole Office Kat Williams had seen Dean Ambrose’s mugshot from his file. She was expecting the scrappy, shaggy kid in the photo, not the man who walked into her office.

Pairing: Dean Ambrose x OC

Word Count: 3000+

Warnings: RATED M FOR AVERT YOUR EYES CHILDREN THIS AIN’T NOTHIN BUT SMUT

Author’s Note: This is a piece of what was originally a bigger fic - a very dark fic tbh - but I’ve been struggling with it since Dean’s return. I decided I could cut this out, post it as a PWP for everyone’s enjoyment, and if I ever get around to writing more, just posting it as a second part. (Tag list is back down to like no one, because once again I wasted so much fucking time between posting shit that most of y’all were either lost in the purge or changed your names. Sorry.)

Tagging: @softarthurmorgan / @kakakatey / @thirstiswet / @calwitch / @dirrrtydeeds

Kat grabbed the file for her next appointment, a new parolee she was being assigned. The folder was fairly thin, which typically meant an easy job… or a first time offender at the beginning of a long path through the system. She read the name on the tab, “Ambrose, Dean,” and opened the folder.

The man’s mugshot was paperclipped to the first page, his piercing blue eyes striking her immediately, even in the washed out, overexposed photo. The glare on his features was not uncommon in the many mugshots she’d seen, but he made it look more like a brood. It made her think of classic movie stars when they’d hit that pout that made the women swoon. His shaggy hair, she couldn’t tell if it was brown or blonde from the photo alone, was matted to his forehead. He looked mostly clean shaven, although with the poor quality of the photo she couldn’t tell if he had a bit of stubble or if it was just an odd shadow or printing mistake.

She moved the photo out of the way, quickly reading through his file. Ambrose was 32 years old, only a few years older than herself. He was charged with stealing a firearm and had pled guilty, earning a 5 year sentence but was being released early. Reading through the file, Ambrose had kept to himself in prison and stayed out of trouble. There were only a handful of reported incidents from his time in jail, all of which had guards vouching that he acted defensively.

It seemed promising, really.

Dean had served his time in Ohio but had applied to serve parole in Iowa. The paperwork showed he had someone to live with and a job lined up. The planning, paired with his good behaviour, led to an easy approval. This also meant that she hadn’t met him prior to his release as she had most of her parolees.

He had been pleasant enough on the phone when he made his appointment, his voice gruff and his answers monosyllabic when possible. He called within the 24 hours necessary of arriving, ready with his file number. Overall, her impression so far was that he was a nice man who got caught up in something bad.

Her phone chirped at her from the corner of her desk, the familiar tone signalling an interoffice paging.

“Williams.” She answered.

“Your 2:30 is here. Mr. Ambrose.” Nicole, the receptionist, responded.

“Great, send him in.” Kat told her. She heard the click on the other end and hung up her phone. Seconds later, a steady, strong knock sounded from her door.

“Come in.” She called, standing in anticipation of meeting her new parolee. She straightened her blouse as the door opened.

The man who entered was nearly unrecognizable from the mugshot if not for those amazing blue eyes. If the young man in the mugshot could be compared to a scruffy but lovable mutt, the man currently standing in her office was a prize pitbull. He’d clearly spent his free time while locked up in the gym. His neck alone had nearly doubled in size and the crisp t-shirt he was wearing looked ready to pull apart at the seams. She found herself wondering what the rest of him looked like before he went in, only having the lone mugshot showing him from the shoulders up. His hair was shorn and his beard was grown in, but groomed.

“Officer Williams?” He asked, standing in the doorway.

“Yes. Come in, Mr. Ambrose.” She instructed. Dean crossed the small office quickly, only taking a few steps with his long legs. His file had listed him as 6’4, but his mass made it seem much more intimidating.

She gulped subtly as she offered her hand to shake. Dean adjusted the papers he was holding into his opposite arm before taking her hand in his own. His hand was warm and his grip was firm.

“Please, call me Dean.” He told her as he released her hand.

“Alright Dean.” She nodded, sitting down. “Why don’t you have a seat and we can get started.”

Dean sat, setting the papers on her desk. “So, your file was transferred to me from Ohio where you served your time, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He confirmed.

“And what brought you to Iowa?” She asked, watching him closely for any signs he might be lying.

“Good friend of mine offered me a place to live and helped me set up a job.” He explained, turning to the papers he’d brought in, leafing through. “He filled out the required paperwork here.”

Kat took the papers he offered, looking through them. The forms were typical, that Mr. Rollins understood that he was living with a Parolee, that he understood the rules that were expected of the parolee’s living situation, and that even if Mr. Rollins brought the prohibited items into the home, Dean would suffer the consequences.

“Great, these all look in order.” Kat nodded. “You say he set you up with your job as well?”

“Yes. He owns a gym and he’s hired me as a trainer.” He explained, handing over the proof of employment.

“You’re very prepared, Dean. I appreciate that.” Kat muttered as she scanned the documents.

“I’m just lookin’ for this to be as smooth as possible.” He told her.

She stapled the papers together, tucking them into Dean’s file.

“Now it says here your prior officer in Ohio, uh…” She paused as she looked for the officer’s name.

“Officer Regal.” He supplied.

“Ah yes, here we are. Officer Regal. It says he went through the expectations, but just to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks, I’m going to go over it again. Eases my mind.” She explained with a smile.

“Of course.” He nodded.

Kat went over the conditions of Dean’s parole, which were fairly typical. Curfew, travel restrictions, things Dean was prohibited to do or own. She went over how to report change in address or job. It was the same spiel she’d given her whole career, with only a few variations from crime to crime.

“Any questions?” She concluded.

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head.

She slid a copy of her business card across her desk towards him. “There’s how to get a hold of me if you need anything or have a question. If you get into any legal trouble I will find out, but both of our lives will be easier if you call me first.”

“Understood, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well, I hope not. Even still, I tell that to everyone.” She told him with a polite smile.

Kat woke up with a soft groan at being pulled out of a peaceful slumber. The two arms wrapped around her, one below and one over her waist, both tightened, pulling her backwards into the strong chest. She smiled at the motion but didn’t open her eyes yet. She loved waking up in his arms. She never felt more safe than when she was wrapped up in Dean.

“G’mornin’.” He grumbled into her ear, nuzzling her neck. Her smile widened as she squirmed against him, his beard tickling her.

“Morning.” She mumbled back. “I was dreaming ‘bout you.”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest. “What about?” He asked suggestively as he ran his hand down her torso until he reached the sliver of skin between her sleep shirt and panties, stroking the bare skin.

“Day we met.” She answered, ignoring his implication.

“Real version or,” Dean pressed his hips against her, fingers dancing along the waistband of the panties she wore. “Our version?”

She scoffed and batted at his hand. “Real version.” Even though she was playing hard to get - as if he didn’t already have her - she couldn’t deny the heat that grew in her belly at Dean’s question. The two had role-played their own version of that first meeting many times, sometimes with Kat as the hard ass, domineering parole officer who threatened to write him up unless he did exactly as she said and sometimes with Dean as the asshole, “won’t take no for an answer” criminal, but all with the same satisfying outcome for both.

“Bummer.” Dean hummed against her skin, making her giggle. “I like ours better.”

“What time is it?” She asked, still not wanting to open her eyes.

“Who cares?” Dean whispered, his breath tickling her ear as he pushed his luck a bit more, slipping his fingers into her waistband.

“Dean,” she whined, wiggling in a lame attempt to escape him. The low growl from Dean let her know the wiggle did nothing but spur him on. “I’ve got appointments this morning.”

“Fuck ‘em.” He hissed, fingers slipping lower. “We got ‘til the alarm.”

“Dean.” She whined again, this time a begging, keening whine as she rolled her hips back into his growing erection. She knew he was right, they had time.

“That’s more like it, doll.” She could hear the smug grin in his voice, let alone feel it against her skin. He kissed her neck and shoulder as he slipped his fingers between her lips, easily finding her clit.

She gasped, gripping his forearm as he rubbed lazy circles on her bundle of nerves. “You’re such a stereotype.” She scolded him, her voice no longer rough with sleep but breathy with arousal.

“Hmm? What stereotype is that?” He hummed, keeping his leisurely pace as she rolled her hips against his hand. Their closeness meant that she was also grinding against his cock as she searched for more pressure.

“Horny convict.” She muttered with a grin.

“I could stop.” He sang, his tone warning.

“Don’t stop.” She urged, gripping his arm tighter.

Dean laughed, satisfied that he already had her so desperate. “Such a spoiled princess. Eyes aren’t even open yet and you’re making demands.”

Kat looked over her shoulder, turning her head towards him and slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the early morning light spilling through the curtains. Dean looked down at her, her eyelids heavy with sleep, pupils blown with desire, lips parted as she panted for breath. He could hardly believe how lucky he was to wake up next to a masterpiece like her.

“There she is.” He praised, leaning down to kiss her. The kiss was as lazy as his fingers, tongue probing into her mouth slowly. She curled her tongue against his, whimpering into his mouth.

Dean’s fingers roamed lower prompting Kat to lift her leg, bending it at the knee to give him better access. Dean moaned appreciatively, unsurprised to find she was already wet and ready for him to easily slip his middle finger nice and deep into her.

She whined at the intrusion, her hips stilling as she squeezed his arm. She kissed him with more urgency as he moved his finger in and out, feeling her walls flutter around him. A few pumps and he added a second finger.

“God, Dean.” She whimpered, pulling away from his lips to catch her breath.

“One of us is here, I don’t know about the other guy.” He teased as he curled his fingers inside her, searching for the spot that would drive her crazy. He knew he’d found it as her breath hitched, hips bucking.

“That’s it, kitten.” He purred, unable to resist the urge to grind against her. “You like that?”

“Uh-huh.” She breathed shakily, nodding. She released his arm, moving to grip his hip instead. He could feel her nails digging into his skin even through his boxers, making him growl.

His thumb found her clit again, rubbing back and forth over the nub until she was reduced to a shaking mess of whimpers and stuttered breaths in his arms.

Her shaking hand reached between them, gripping his hard cock. She tried to stroke him, the angle working against her as she tried to twist her arm to the right angle to touch him.

“Is that what you want?” He asked, nipping her ear. “You want me to bury my hard cock deep inside you?”

“Yessss-” She hissed, nodding emphatically. She gave up trying to stroke him, clawing instead at his boxers. She managed to barely slide them down his hips even as he lifted himself off the bed. She huffed in frustration as they caught on his erection.

“My fingers aren’t enough? Need my thick cock instead?” He continued teasing.

“Pl-ease.” She moaned, breath hitching.

Dean chuckled, reluctantly pulling his hand away from her heat to help pull his boxers down to his thighs. Kat whined at the loss but took the opportunity to shimmy her panties off. She started to turn towards him but Dean stilled her with a strong hand on her hip.

“No, just like this.” He murmured, pressing up against her back again. The arm below her held her tight to his chest as he lifted her leg over his hip, stroking at her inner thigh once it was in position.

“Dean, please.” She begged, pushing her ass against him.

“Shhh, ‘m right here.” He pacified as he lined himself up. Their matching moans echoed through the room as he entered her slick heat. He moved his hand to her hip, holding her steady as he began to thrust, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the pace of the morning.

Kat gripped at his hand, rolling her body in time with the movement of his hips. Dean buried his face into her neck, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of her sweat-slicked skin surround him.

“Don’t stop.” She begged, moving his hand up to her chest, under her shirt. He took the note, groping at her breast.

“Never.” He panted, sealing his promise with a bite to her collar bone. Kat cried out, toes curling as she felt that coil in her stomach begin tightening. Her hand left his to bury itself between her legs, rubbing at her clit in tandem with his thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He growled, looking down her body and seeing her pleasuring herself. The sight made his stomach flip. He deftly rolled her nipples between his fingers, pinching it the way he knew would drive her crazy. He knew, with all the different stimulations, that she wouldn't last much longer.

“Shit…” She whimpered under her breath, the first sign to Dean that she was creeping up on her orgasm. She began a mantra of whispered curses with his name mixed in as she sped towards that knife’s edge.

“That’s it kitten.” He encouraged, leaning down to kiss and lick at her neck. He nibbled softly at her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat.

“H-harder.” She begged and stuttered, body shaking under him. She sped up her own motions, rubbing her clit faster as she felt herself about come undone. She moaned loudly as Dean’s hips started snapping forward more forcefully, the lazy pace being abandoned as they chased their pleasure. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the bedroom.

“So tight.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he willed himself to hold out until she came. If he could just hold out a bit longer- he could already feel her pulsing around him.

“I… I’m…” She tried to warn, her breath catching each time he thrust deep and hard into her. She couldn’t manage the words, her body starting to seize up.

“Let it go.” He growled through gritted teeth, thrusting erratically. “‘M right there.”

Kat threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as her orgasm wracked through her whole body down to her toes. She screamed Dean’s name, shuddering in his arms as her walls convulsed around him. Dean groaned loudly in her ear as the pulsing tipped him over the edge, spilling deep inside of her.

Too soon, the intense pleasure made way to the ecstatic post-haze, both of them panting to catch their breath from their exertion.

“I love you.” He breathed, pressing a kiss to the bite mark that had formed on her collar.

“Love you, too.” She replied, tapping him on the hip with a shaky hand. He pulled out of her, both of them groaning softly - Dean at the loss of her warmth, Kat as he moved against her over sensitive nerves. Her toes curled as she felt his seed spilling out of her, dripping down her thigh.

She rolled over, burying her head against his broad, defined chest. Dean hugged her tightly, knowing she liked to be held close after sex, no matter how or where it happened. Hard, fast, rough and punishing or slow, lazy lovemaking. Bed, shower, counter, the car. She liked to be squeezed to him. She clung to him as she came down from her high, breathing in his musk.

They laid like that as the sun rose higher in the sky, more and more light sneaking into the room through the curtains. Kat was nearly asleep when the alarm on her phone chimed.

“Them’s the breaks, Kat.” Dean told her, patting her twice on the ass before reaching for her phone to silence the alarm.

She groaned and reluctantly pulled away from him, rolling away to collect herself for a few deep breaths. Dean watched her, taking in her chest heaving with each breath. He let his eyes trail down her profile. Her tummy sneaking out under her shirt they’d never gotten around to taking off, her bare hip, her long legs.

“Get up, kitten. You need to shower before work.” He told her. As much as he’d like to know she was still covered in his cum as she dealt with all her parolees, almost like staking his claim, he couldn’t imagine it would be very comfortable for her.

She groaned as she sat up, stretching. “And what about you?” She asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Mrs. Souriol is on vacation this week.” He reminded her, sitting up in bed. “No one to train until 10:30.”

“Lucky asshole.” She grumbled, forcing herself to stand. She inhaled sharply at the persistent ache in her core, a satisfied grin painted her face as she dragged her feet towards her ensuite.

Dean watched her go with his own smug smile. He recognized that look and was proud to have brought it out of her. Once he heard the shower start, he slipped his boxers back on to start on breakfast for both of them.

#dean ambrose imagine #dean ambrose smut #Dean ambrose fic #dean ambrose fan fic #dean ambrose fan fiction #dean ambrose x oc #glow: parole!Dean #glowrious writings #here's hoping I'm not purged for this

258 notes · View notes

theshatteredrose · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 548 times in 2022

328 posts created (60%)

220 posts reblogged (40%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tinygamertris

@theshatteredrose

@thispleasestormod

@beardedmrbean

@maureen2musings

I tagged 207 of my posts in 2022

#etrian odyssey - 53 posts

#fanfiction - 30 posts

#reblog - 23 posts

#author ramblings - 18 posts

#fanart - 16 posts

#writer problems - 14 posts

#oc labyrinth inspiration - 13 posts

#etrian odyssey nexus - 12 posts

#etrian odyssey 5 - 11 posts

#very important - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 48 characters

#just no energy to actually do anything with them

My Top Posts in 2022:

yknow, come to think of it... which race even IS egar? my first thought was earthlain, but during the event where you get the recipe for fishball soup, its mentioned that its a therian recipe passed down from guildmaster to guildmaster, plus there's the bit in the artbook of him apparently having a therian child at some point in development, so maaaaybe he's a therian??

Hmm, he works closely with the Earthlain royal family, however. So there's that. Although, that bucket helmet he wears could be somewhat accommodating for his therian features.

I like the idea of him being Earthlain and just adopting a therian child. Adopting any child who's parents were explorers, and said explorers had met an untimely end. Him just bringing home adopted children and his wife is 100% ok with it.

Previous guildmaster could be of any race, and perhaps the first guildmaster ever established was Therian.

There is also the possibility that he, himself, had been adopted by the previous guildmaster, who was Therian.

Let's also not overlook the fact that he could be half Earthlain, half Therian.

Heck, why not all of the above?

16 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

So I did the events of Area Zero in Pokemon Violet and...I wasn’t ready.

Arveeeeeeen...

21 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

See the full post

27 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

There's been a lot of worrying news about floods in my feed today. Are you okay? Safe from the flooding? I really hope so!

Oh yes, everything's calm where I am, thankfully. It's actually quite hot today, so I'm getting a bit of laundry dry for a change! I'm located on a bit of a hill, so just need to watch out for water running downhill should the rain become torrential. From weather reports, I should have a couple more days of sunshine, which would be a nice change.

I also just got back from the vet. Nothing serious, just that my little girl is an adventurous brat who thinks she's bigger than she really is. I wish she was more like her brother; content to sit in the sunlight and meow for attention. But no, she has to continuously stick her nose into everything like a hyperactive child.

29 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok, so last night was fun.

About 5.30pm yesterday, my uncle fell off the roof of his single-story house and handed on concrete. But he was home alone at the time. He managed to phone his wife, but the message was garbled and all she could discern from him was he fell off the roof and there was a lot of blood. Not something anyone wants to hear, but especially someone who works in the medical profession. Unfortunately, she works 40mins away. She called her daughter to see if she could get there first.

And she does. Manages to get an ambulance and all’s good. Right?

Not exactly. Poor thing was in such a flap she either forgot to ask or was told and simply didn’t hear where they were taking him (he lives in the middle of nowhere in the country so numerous possibilities that are literal hours in any direction).

My aunt and cousin get to the hospital they thought he was at, only to find he’s not there. In fact, he’s not in the system. At all.

So, where the fuck was he?

That’s kinda where I was informed of everything. I had no idea above happened until I get a phone call from my mum basically stating, “Your uncle is missing, and no one can find him.” Literal what the fuck?

Mum is terrible at explaining things, jfc.

Took some time to get the above from her. But, like, he’s in an ambulance. How the fuck did he go missing? Unless he turned zombie, attacked the medics, and then wandered off into the scrub, he couldn’t be ‘missing’.

Apparently, he was.

Took three hours of ringing hospitals to learn that he wasn’t not even out in the country. He wasn’t in an ambulance. He was in a bloody helicopter being flown to Canberra hospital.

Turns out he was on his way to Wagga Wagga Hospital but had deteriorated in the ambulance, so they pulled into the nearest airstrip and called for the helicopter to fly him to Canberra.

Needless to say, he’s not in very good shape; bleeding on the brain and neck in a brace. Seems to have movement in his arms, though. They’re thinking of transferring him to Sydney, though.

41 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

0 notes

gondalsqueen · 7 years ago

Link

OKAY, SO MOST OF YOU GUYS HAVE SEEN THIS ON A03 ALREADY, BUT FOR THOSE WHO ONLY TUMBLE:

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla Characters: Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus, Ezra Bridger, Sabine Wren, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, C1-10P | Chopper, Ryder Azadi, Mart Mattin Additional Tags: Fix-It, Jedi Night, Nobody Dies, Team as Family, Pregnancy, i have now spoiled the whole thing in tags, non-graphic description of past torture, you know--canon compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, non-consensual drugging, you wanted to see kanan take care of hera post-torture right?, come on we all did, more hurt/comfort, very little other than hurt/comfort, allusions to oc death, Discussion of Abortion, but you can probably figure out what they decide on that one Summary:

He was holding back the explosion. He turned to face her, hand outstretched—he STOPPED her, she hated the feeling of that formless grip on her body—damn him, he lifted her right into the air, DAMN him, he was going to get himself killed, he’d been PLANNING it. But then what happened?A fix-it fic for "Jedi Night."

NOTES ARE VERY IMPORTANT FOR THIS CHAPTER: I just want to make it very clear that this is not high art. It is take-no-prisoners, kill-no-darlings, self-indulgent hurt/comfort of the most unrestrained variety. And right now Hera's getting comforted. Because she is my darling. To be clear. ...

They hadn’t been on the ground for one minute before Chopper careened across the field towards them like the murder droid he was. By the time he got to Hera she was waiting on one knee. He bumped her hard enough to knock her onto her rear because, well, Chopper. She really loved that droid.

He was babbling about her idiocy, as usual—didn’t she know that organics couldn’t be taken apart and put back together the same way droids could? “Hey,” she told him sternly. And then: “I missed you, too.” She rose on her heels again and put her forehead against his dome. “You did great, Chop. Thank you so much.”

Of course he’d done great. GeneralHeraSyndulla was the idiot. “Yeah, yeah,” she said. Then she looked up. And up. The new rebel base stood at the top of a mountain. Hera was torn between two thoughts: Wow, that’s impressive, and Great, now I have to climb up this thing. Sabine and Zeb were already on the first stone outcropping, waiting for them. She took a deep breath and searched for a little more energy. “How did you find this place?”

“It’s...a long story,” Ezra said.

“And you wouldn’t believe us if we told you,” Sabine put in.

Zeb muttered, “I still don’t believe it.” Chopper jetted ahead to announce their presence, although the gunship’s approach couldn’t have been missed. Kanan took her hand, but he was exhausted, too, and the grip was more for moral support than anything. Halfway up he tripped over a stone and Hera paused. “Hey,” she said quietly, “Are you okay?”

He nodded and squeezed her hand.

“Are you burned?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She touched his cheek carefully and his eyebrows twitched in pain.

“Hmm.”

“Just a little raw and tired. Come on, we can make it.”

All right, she’d let it go. For now.

“We don’t have much,” Ezra said when they caught up. “Just a radio and a few weapons and supplies we gathered from caches.”

“We’ve done okay so far,” Hera told him with a smile.

Then they reached the top of the outcropping and...he wasn’t kidding. They really didn’t have much.

Mart gave a little whoop of triumph as they climbed onto the ledge, and Ryder Azadi said, “General Syndulla, thank the Force you’re back.” When she raised her eyebrows at the title, Mart shrugged awkwardly: “I told them about the promotion.”

“Congratulations, General.” Zeb grinned at her.

Sabine was wrinkling her nose in Ezra’s general direction. “You reek. Go take a bath and wash the fuel off.”

“That’s my cue, too,” Kanan said. “We’ll hit the pools and be right back.”

“We have pools?” Hera had the feeling she was going to like this place.

“Yeah, and wait until you see the murals!” Sabine would be more excited about murals than pools.

“How did you guys find this place?” Hera asked again, and Zeb responded again, “You wouldn’t believe us—”

“—If you told me. Try me.”

“Some wolves led us here.” “Wolves?”

“Yep. Through a cave. Or...something. I don’t know. There were lots of stars.”

“In a cave.”

“I don’t know!” Zeb threw up his hands in surrender.

“Well…” she considered. “The Empire won’t think to look for us all the way out here, at least. Let’s get to work.”

“We’ve still got to find a way to shut that factory down,” Azadi said. “Looks like we’re doing it from the ground, now.”

Hera winced. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nobody blames you!” Sabine told her.

“Still, this is going to be...harder.” Impossible? She’d flown the best battle of her life; their assault had been impossible even from the air. Usually when they had to punch above their weight they ran some scheme, but that hadn’t worked well for them lately. They had to get Thrawn off-planet, somehow, if they were to stand a chance.

“We could infiltrate,” Mart offered.

“What, through the vents, like Ezra?” Sabine rolled her eyes.

“No. Just...somehow. I’m working on it.”

Zeb glowered, arms crossed, his thinking pose. “We need help.”

“More explosives.”

But Hera shook her head. “We’re not going to get more help from the Alliance. Even convincing them to send two squadrons was like squeezing blood from a stone.”

“So? We have friends, don’t we? We’re popular.”

“If we come up with a plan, maybe.” Hera was skeptical. “But we need a plan first.”

“I’ll call up the schematic.” Ryder fiddled with the portable holoprojector they’d rigged on a table-sized rock, and everyone gathered around. “Same problems as before,” he said while the decrepit projector loaded, “nearly impenetrable except from overhead, and even then we have to get through the shield. We have no assault vehicles and no ships. Well, one gunship now. Four speeders.” The display sputtered to life and died again. He flicked the projector carefully with one finger and the schematics appeared, bright colors and lights.

All right, they needed some kind of opening, any weakness at all. Hera squinted at the plans, eyes watering. Concentrate, she told herself. Take this next step, get the job done. But exhaustion poured over her all at once, sapping every bit of focus she had left. She sat down abruptly on whatever was behind her—which happened to be Chopper. “Sorry, Chop.” She didn’t get up, though.

“Whoa, whoa—” Sabine caught one arm, and Chopper twittered nervously, holding very still. Zeb jumped to her other side, putting his hand on her back, but she wasn’t passing out, only sitting down.

“Ryder,” Sabine said, “I think this meeting should wait.”

Zeb backed her up. “Yeah. We’ve done enough for today.”

“I agree.” He touched the holoprojector and mercifully, the lights went off.

And somehow Kanan was back from bathing already, or he’d rushed out without drying, dripping onto a clean set of clothes. “What’s going on?” he asked. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Hera nodded, and the throbbing headache settled in with the second nod. “I think I was high until just now.”

“I could have told you that. You crashing off of the drugs?”

“Let’s just say this landing is particularly exciting,” she said dryly.

“Drugs?” Sabine frowned. “What do you mean drugs?”

“Interrogation droid,” Kanan supplied.

“Hera, were you tortured?” She tried to nod, remembered her head, and stopped. “It’s not so bad, though. I just need to rest.”

“Uh huh,” Kanan said.“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable and take a look at you.” He slipped his shoulder under her arm and walked her towards one of the caverns just as Ezra came running with a medical kit. They all accompanied her to the cavern, which was frankly embarrassing. She wasn’t hurt, just tired. Kanan settled her onto a cot in the mercifully dark room as Ezra cracked open the med kit. “All right,” he said. “You want to give me a run-down of the injuries?”

“I think I just need to sleep.”

“You can sleep. We just need to check on you first.”

“Mmm,” Hera mused. “It’s mostly the injection and some electrical burns. I don’t know what kind of damage that did to my system, though. It felt...bad,” she admitted. Okay, Hera, that was less than descriptive.

“They electrocuted you?!” Sabine asked.

“Yeah,” Kanan said in sympathy. “I know that feeling. We need to look at the damage, okay?”

“Okay. I have to—” she gestured to her waist. There was no way to see the burns on her chest without taking off the whole top half of the prisoner’s uniform.

“You have to what?”

“Take her shirt off,” Sabine supplied.

“We can leave,” Zeb said. “You settled in?”

“Mm hmm. Well taken care of. Thanks, Zeb.” She restrained the urge to tell them they were overreacting. She’d scared them with the crash and scared them getting captured, and she suspected they were working through it by fussing over her more than was strictly necessary. Best to let them.

“Hold on a minute.” Ezra had opened the med kit on the ground. “Okay, Kanan, I have bandages and bacta on the top. And… here’s some antiseptic, too. Anything else you need?”

“No, that sounds great.”

“The kit is right here by your feet, so don’t kick any dust on it.”

“Actually… are you okay with me staying, Hera?” Sabine asked. “Somebody who can see should probably check you out.”

“That’s fine,” she said, eyes closed.

Chopper insisted that he was staying, too.

“Of course,” Hera said, reaching for his dome. Such a good droid; he’d done everything just right over the past few days.

Ezra squeezed her arm on the way out, and Zeb gave her a careful little kiss on the temple and said, “It’s good to have you back.” Hera found herself grinning through the headache.

“Chop, you have a light?” Sabine asked. “I can’t see anything in here.”

“Neither can I.”

“Kanan, how many times do I have to tell you? Those jokes are old.”

Chopper turned his projector port towards Hera. Harsh light hit her face.

“And they weren’t that funny to start with.”

“Wrong,” he said. “They will always be funny.”

Hera tried to laugh and winced, instead. “All right, comedy hour’s over.” Kanan rubbed her back in empathy. “Let’s get a look at these burns.”

She sat up and they helped her ease the shirt over her lekku and then drape it in front of her.

“Careful,” Kanan said as Sabine tugged.

“Guys, I am OKAY. I flew that glider. I climbed the ladder on my own. I’m just crashing because I’ve been hopped up on truth serum for the past few hours. I am fine.”

“You’re burned,” Sabine said.

“A little.”

“Hmm…” A long pause while Sabine turned her towards the light and examined. “Yep. They seem pretty localized. Not too bad. We’ll need to clean them and put some bacta on them, though.”

Hera kept her eyes closed under the glare as the throbbing shifted to one side of her head. “I know.”

“You want some pain medicine first?” Kanan asked.

“I don’t even know what I’m allowed to take.” “We can figure that out.”

Sabine was, in fact, already tapping on her wrist comm. Hera tried to do the same— “pain medication in early pregnancy—” before she remembered that she wasn’t wearing a comm. Chopper beat them to it; she was good for everything except Symoxin.

“Okay, pass me some Comaren.”

“Wait a minute, how does he know what search to run?” Sabine demanded.

“Uhm…” Hera tried to sound cool instead of sheepish. “Chopper may have known for about...three standard weeks?” Fail.

“Thanks,” Kanan said dryly.

“I’m sorry, love.”

Sabine got her three pills instead of the usual two, and she dry swallowed them

“Let’s see what else is going on while those kick in,” Kanan suggested.

“Yeah, it would be nice to finish and get some clothes.”

“This is a bruise?” Sabine asked, touching her side lightly.

“From the glider crash.” She slipped her pants down to see how far it went. Hmm. She’d taken most of the impact on her thigh, which was probably for the best.

“Okay, we can fix that,” Kanan said.

“Hera, will you drop the shirt just for a second?” Sabine asked.

“Why?”

“Please?” She dropped it to her lap obligingly and held out her arms.“Okay, good. Just checking.”

“For what?” Hera pulled her shirt back over her chest.

“Bite marks,” Sabine admitted nervously. “Fingermark bruises.”

Kanan searched for her hand and wrapped it in his.

“Oh! No. No, don’t worry, it wasn’t like that. Pryce got a little overzealous with the electrocution, and then there was the interrogation droid at the end, but you guys got there before I could even say anything. Before that, they spent… I don’t know how long actually healing me. How long has it been?”

“A day and a half,” Kanan told her.

“Wow. Yeah, I spent most of that time unconscious.”

“Healing you from what?”

“Head and arm from the crash,” she enumerated. “Maybe some ribs? And then ramming the speeder into an AT-AT, but I don’t think that did much damage. And an ongoing fight with that bounty hunter.” That had been the worst part, running through the city streets knowing he was tracking her from above, the sudden drop in front of her, fighting, then running again. Nightmares were made out of that kind of stuff and if she’d taken serious injuries, it had been then.

“Chopper told us about that,” Kanan said.

Chopper filled in—he’d told them how she’d stomped that creep.

Hera laughed and winced again. “I think the stomping was mutual. He’s...really good. Better than me. Kanan, I’m sorry for every sparring session I’ve ever complained about.”

“Told you it would save your life.” He probed gently at her head, her face, her shoulder. “Nothing hurts?”

“Nothing hurts,” she confirmed. “Can I put on a shirt now?”

“Just a minute.”

If you had to have someone apply bacta ointment to burns, Sabine, with that artist’s touch, was the way to go. It still hurt, but not as much as Hera had expected. Chopper fetched something from across the room—her pilot’s suit, where had they gotten it?—and they helped her into the shirt and pants before she laid down again. The headache was gone, leaving the sense that her body had been drained of all energy, but that wasn’t the same as pain.

“You going to sleep?” Sabine asked.

“I’m already asleep,” Hera told her without opening her eyes.

“Okay, I’m going to take off.” Chop blatted a question.

“Yeah, Chopper, go recharge,” Hera told him. “Kanan’s going to stay with me.” She smiled to herself, sparing a lazy glance at him.

Under the glare of Chopper’s lamp, Kanan’s lips twitched into that old, affectionate expression. “Of course I am.”

“He’s going to put some bacta on his face, too.”

“It’s really not bad.”

“I plan to listen to your protests about as much as you listened to mine.”

“You want me to get it?” Sabine asked.

“No, I’ve got it.” Hera tugged him closer so she didn’t have to sit up and Kanan handed her the bacta tube and knelt obligingly in front of her. Sabine and Chopper crept out while Hera daubed it on his face and spread it as gently as she could. He didn’t move a muscle, which meant that she was hurting him while he tried not to show it.

“What else? Your hand?”

“Just a little.”

She hauled herself into a sitting position and took his hands in hers. “Kanan, this one’s swollen and stiff with burns. That has to hurt.”

“It looks worse than it feels.”

She rubbed bacta on it as gingerly as she could. “How would you know? And why didn’t you say something?”

“I wasn’t the one who had been tortured.”

“Well, now that we’ve thoroughly established that I’m FINE, you’re taking some Comaren, too.” She leaned over the med kit and squinted at the labels in the gloom. “Here.”

Kanan swallowed the medicine dutifully, then pulled a cot from across the room next to hers and laid down behind her while she curled on her side. Instead of wrapping his arm around her, though, he put a careful hand on her back. His burned hand. “You sleep, too,” she told him.

“In a minute. I think I can check for any damage from the electrocution.”

Oh, he meant using the Force. Already she felt the warm, comfortable feeling where his hand rested on her back. She hoped he used it to look after himself, as well. “What’s the verdict?” she murmured.

“You’ve got some...shockiness here.”

Hera laughed tiredly. Shockiness from shocks, of course she did.

“Really.” She could hear the smile in Kanan’s voice. “I don’t think there’s any damage to your heart. Your nervous system’s a little fried, though. I think I can help with that.”

“It’ll wait. Do your hand first.”

“Hera,” he said quietly. “You’re not fine. Trust me? Tell me this time?”

She considered her words carefully. “I don’t think you understand how incredibly grateful I am right now.”

He waited. Go on, that silence said.

“I was...hurt. REALLY hurt, and Thrawn made their medical team put me back together again before they tortured me. I was in pain. And I was...afraid. So afraid that I would reveal the base’s location—”

—she had a paranoid moment where she wondered if this was some delusion, a trick of the drugs to make her think she was safe, to make her say “Yavin IV.” Yeah, maybe she was a little more thrown that she’d thought—

“—But really I’m okay. I knew you were coming.”

“I’m here,” he confirmed.

“And then I thought you were going to die,” she continued. “I really did, this time. I am so mad at you right now...” There was no sting in her words, though, only the weepiness of a close call.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not dead. It’s okay.” His hand stayed warm against her back, radiating comfort and easing tired muscles. She could have been conscious or barely asleep, dreaming his next words. “I was supposed to die.” They came to her as a whisper. “The Force showed me that path. Either I died or we all died, and it was going to be okay, Hera. I don’t know what happens now.”

“I do,” she thought she muttered. “Next time it tries to take you, the Force can go through me first.”

She drifted off quickly, Kanan’s hand still on her back, into a sleep with no pain and no more dreams.

#kanera #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #jedi night #swr spoilers #fix it fic #hurt/comfort #SHAMELESS hurt/comfort

6 notes · View notes