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americanphancakes · 1 year ago

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I wanna talk about my mind for a little bit

I was gonna save this until after I posted the last Wingless Angel chapter but I can’t post it yet. Pretty sure my mind wants me to get this out of my system first.

So hi everyone, how are you? How have you been? Honestly if you’re still following at all I’m delighted.

I don’t want this to come across as some excuse for all the unfinished fanfic I left behind 3+ years ago, which is why I wanted to publish WA first, so I hope you don’t take it that way. But I ended up stumbling upon an aspect of my mental health that I’m still trying to address and since I never really saw anyone post or talk about my particular issue before very recently, I wanted to share it in case it resonates with anyone.

(Clearly stuff has changed, this is where I'd normally put a "read more" but.... I guess that's not a thing anymore?? Hopefully this isn't a huge annoying wall of text on everyone's dash, oof.)

I’ve posted before about my ADHD. I’ve been getting treatment for it for 10 years now, and for all that time, medication & other coping mechanisms have been helpful to a point, but only to a point. There was still something left that was keeping me from functioning, and I couldn’t tell what it was. All I knew was that I had no will of my own, and I’d spent the last 10 years trying to create situations where the people in charge were asking (or implying that i should do) things I considered good to do. “People in charge” meant anyone besides myself. If someone was not me, they automatically had authority, simply by virtue of being someone external to me.

I did a lot of research trying to find something that matched up with my experiences & feelings, even partially, and I looked into things like PDA autism and even just the people-pleasing habits common with other ADHD folks.

At some point, with therapy, I did learn how to say “no” to other people’s demands of me. I learned to set boundaries. But I was still profoundly uncomfortable with dictating what I was going to do, especially if anyone else was ever going to be aware of it.

When I was a little kid, i was told “no” constantly, and that’s not hyperbole. I’ve cited the story many times of falling in love with the violin when I was 9 but immediately being told “No, you’re going to play the flute.” So I played the flute, but without any passion for it I couldn’t figure it out and I quit, and my mom never stopped making me feel guilty about it. But that wasn’t the only example of that kind of thing. I wanted to play soccer; mom said play basketball, so I played basketball. I wanted to play piano; mom bought me a guitar and my sister got the electronic keyboard. (We eventually switched, but I never felt like I could fully commit to playing the thing). I wanted to learn Spanish or Japanese in high school; mom told me to learn French, so I took four fucking years of French.

My feelings and wishes were effectively not a factor in what I was allowed to do, what goals I was allowed to pursue, unless I was staying in my room and out of everyone’s way (and even then I had to make sure I jumped up to do what was asked of me if I got called from another room). Eventually I learned, as a survival mechanism, to just obey. It wasn’t worth fighting anymore because I was systematically robbed of my individuality at every turn. Something happened when I was 13 that I will never talk about publicly and she played "good parent who has her kid's back" for about 5 minutes before siding with the bad guy. I brought it up years later and she was mad I'd never gotten over it. And all that is on top of being raised to be a "good little capitalist drone" who needs to be perfect and efficient at all times. I was never supported. I was never given grace. So I never gave grace to myself, because if your own parents don't give you grace & time to learn and be flawed, then clearly you don't deserve any, right?

I finally cut my mother out of my life not long after the pandemic began, a few months after having gone no-contact from my father (mostly due to his casual racism & transphobia, which cost me at least one very close friendship when I was a kid, and was unkind to my child in a way I could not abide). My immediate family - spouse and kid - are the only family I have left now. And it sounds tragic on paper, because it is, but until I finally got away from my mother's voice in real life I couldn't filter through the recordings of her voice in my mind so I could finally throw them away. And that knot is still being untied. Honestly this is 10 years into a very long mental health journey, when you think about it, but I wish I'd cut my mom out of my life a very very long time ago. I wasn't angry about lost time when I got my ADHD diagnosis. I was angry about it when I realized that yes, this had been abuse, and I hadn't been courageous enough to get away from it sooner.

Because that dehumanization resulted in me having no will power of my own, and that extended as far as simply not wanting anything anymore. I like things, sure, but anything I WANTED for myself was out of the question, especially if it involved other people in any way, but honestly even solo pursuits became impossible for me to will myself to do. For right now, when I have something I want to do, I'm telling my friends & husband to order me to do it. Because I won't do it otherwise. And it's a potentially dangerous workaround, but it's all I have for now. I and my therapist are hoping that once my brain registers that what other people are telling me to do is aligned with what I want to do, maybe it won't depend on other people's commands anymore and I'll just take control of my own life for once. But that may not work. I'll have to wait and see.

So what does this have to do with my abandoned fics? Well, it had started to become more difficult to write because the adhd "shinyness" was wearing off anyway, but I'd been doing a good job of pushing past it because people liked what I was writing. I could see my skill getting better, and engagement was going up, and that was really motivating. But then... I stopped writing fic all of a sudden because someone made a post about finding it shitty when writers wrote about COVID in their fics, and.... that was sort of a last straw that broke me, because I do exactly that in the last WA chapter. So I just turned tail and ran away. I tried to push through and write & publish the chapter anyway, because it was the LAST chapter and I knew people were waiting on it, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Even having OSBB obligations didn't get me writing again, and given that obligation, the shame I felt about not having finished those stories weighed on me so badly that I couldn't even interact with you guys on Instagram, despite you having been so kind to me in the past. Let's face it, that goes WAY beyond adhd rejection sensitivity, that's a trauma response. I saw one bit of honestly well-reasoned critique of work that wasn't even mine, and I just ran. Immediately I felt like I was no longer allowed to take up space here. I felt unwelcome here in this corner of the internet world, just as I have always felt like I wasn't allowed to take up space in the physical world for almost my ENTIRE life. And the shame I already feel about myself normally was compounded by what I felt was a cowardly thing to do, which prevented me from returning. Now that I've accepted that, yes, I am an abuse victim whose life has been MASSIVELY and MAJORLY affected by that childhood trauma, I'm finally able to address it properly. Over the last few weeks I've been changing the direction of my therapy and my self-talk (reparenting yourself is HARD) and I'm feeling some improvement, but progress isn't linear so my burst of motivation the other night fizzled out, and I'm genuinely sorry for that.

So... yeah, I'm trying to come back and get those fics finished. I'm grateful for any of you willing to be patient with me. Consciously I KNOW I deserve any support willingly given to me by any of you, but I FEEL like I don't. So yeah. Thanks. <3

#long post #me irl #i'm sure i had a tag for original posts but i dont' know wtf it was #it's been awhile #I'm too damn old to already have so many regrets #i'm mourning a lot of goals i had once that are no longer options #or even things i'm not as interested in doing anymore #like i'm still sad i didn't do them in the first place even tho i don't wanna do them now #but some stuff i really do want to do #and i hope to regrow my childhood will power soon enough that i can do them #cuz yeah there is a proper midlife crisis going on now #i am halfway to death if i'm lucky #and my life has never been my own #so i'm trying to seize it back but it is really hard to do #I feel like tumblr is the only site that would know where this post is coming from #anywhere else i know it'd just be seen as a sob story excuse or something #i mostly just wanted anyone who's been an abuse victim in a similar way to realize that that's what it is #because i resisted accepting it for so long #and it cost me so much time

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psifitopia · 2 years ago

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fanfic help

So, I have, for quite a while now, been attempting to write a Mad Max/Star Trek crossover. I have a bunch of characters and even their motives in place. I know certain things I want to have happen (the Enterprise crew helping Max get out of his spiral of despair, for one). I definitely want Max to have a weird friendship with Spock. I want Max to accept his position as someone who helps bring civilization back to Australia (he's helped at least three or four groups that we know of). At the same time, it's Star Trek, so I'm trying to keep this from being overly dark.

Aver and company are well-meaning idiots. Think Mudd if he actually had a worthwhile intention. They get to learn something too.

But I'm stuck. I don't even know why I'm stuck. I just don't know what to write next. So, in an attempt to get unstuck, I'm going to post the whole thing under a cut and ask for help. Maybe some constructive criticism will help me forge ahead or even just talking about it. I appreciate any help/suggestions!

Author's note: All alien languages are conveniently translated into idiomatic English, for the comfort and entertainment of the reader. You're welcome. Also, I tweak the Star Trek timeline a bit, because three years is incredibly fast for a recovery from the Eugenics Wars.

Aver Gaque hummed happily, as he strolled down the corridors of his spaceship. Ahhh, he loved history. A hard snap, followed by cursing, interrupted Aver's pleasant musings. Shaking his head, Aver approached the forcefield separating him from his upset...guest. Now, what language did this creature speak? Ah, of course. Chomskese.

"Now, now. You'll only hurt yourself."

"Let me go! I am the king!"

"Well. You're a king, certainly, certainly. But, you see, you lost the battle with the Romulans. If I hadn't taken you, you would have died. Now, doesn't that earn me a little gratitude?"

"What do you want with me?" King Cimtiv growled.

"I want to display you in my museum."

"Display?!"

"Well, of course. You're an important historical figure, but not one that people know very much about. My museum will change that. People will be able to speak with you and learn about your time period directly from you. I promise you, you'll be very comfortable."

"What makes you think history will care about me?"

"Oh, I know it does! You see, I originate from about two thousand years in your future. My, you're a modest one. Surely, you know the importance of your work in joining the Federation and driving the Romulans from your planet?"

"You just said I died in battle."

"Oh, yes, you did. It was quite heroic and inspiring! The people of Chomsk rose up in a fury after the battle..."

The floor bucked beneath their feet, almost sending Aver to his knees and Cimtiv into the forcefield. Aver steadied himself, turning to gape for a brief moment at Cimtiv, before dashing off down the corridor. Fortunately, he reached his bridge quickly.

"Curator!" his helmsman, Seum, greeted. "It's a Federation ship. Sir. It's the Enterprise. Anyone from that ship would make a momentous display."

"Yes...no! No. It's too risky. We have to protect what we already have. Navator, disable their tracking device. Seum, make a time jump."

"When and where?"

"Earth 1995. We're going after our next exhibit."

"I thought we'd already collected everyone of interest from there," Seum said, sending a quantum magnetic pulse at the Enterprise.

"Almost," Aver grunted, as the ship faded and restabilized in the past. "There is one man, though, who we know almost nothing about. And we're going to find him."

"Seum!" Navator growled. "You have to give me more than thirty seconds!"

Aver sighed.

"Navator. Are we still attached to the Enterprise?"

Navator slammed his finger into a few buttons, before answering.

"Not. Anymore."

Seum groaned.

"I'm sorry! It's the Enterprise. I thought you would speed things up!"

"I can't speed up physics for your convenience, Seum!"

"GENTLEMEN. It doesn't matter. We have two advantages over the Enterprise. Firstly, we can land directly on the planet and, secondly, we can camouflage ourselves to appear as part of the surroundings. So, why don't we do that, very promptly, hmm?"

"Captain's Log. Stardate 7604.28. James T. Kirk commanding. Thanks to some unknown alien, we have arrived hundreds of years into Earth's past. Our mission is to rescue King Cimvtiv of Chomsk from the aliens who kidnapped him and return him to his planet, the newest member of the Federation. Unfortunately, the alien ship disappeared, as it entered Earth's atmosphere. Our sensors have been unable to pick up any trace of the ship...and very little in the way of Earth technology.

Earth. Our readings show that this is Earth in the latter part of the twentieth century, a dark time. The Eugenics Wars are over, but Earth is in the earliest stages of recovery. Most countries are in chaos. Food, water, and fuel are all in short supply. Society, in many countries, has almost entirely collapsed. We actually know very little about this time period. Historical records from this time are rare.

Our scanners show very few signs of organized society. Most of the technology is either transportation or weapons. Some countries' populations are almost entirely nomadic. Ecological damage is severe, with famine and drought...rampant.

The good news is no one will care about who we are. The bad news is that won't stop them from trying to kill us, if they think we have anything of value.

However difficult, we must find and rescue King Cimvtiv, without disturbing the timeline."

Kirk ended his log and turned to Spock, who stood gazing cooly at him.

"And, I am open to suggestions."

"We were able to form a trajectory from the alien ship's emissions. The emissions decreased, once the ship disappeared from our sensors, but some remained. Based on that trajectory, we narrowed the field to a twenty-mile radius on the fringes of Sydney, Australia."

"Twenty miles, Mr. Spock?"

Kirk frowned up at him, but Spock shook his head, firmly.

"Given the alien ship's capabilities, we were fortunate to narrow it down that much."

"Twenty miles, which we will have to cover on foot?"

"Indeed, Captain, and this is a decaying age. From what our sensors detect, most clothing is leather and other durable goods from twenty years ago or animal skins from recent kills."

"That bad."

Kirk gave himself a few seconds to grieve for the humans of this time, then shook himself.

"So, the landing party will have to be small."

The bridge went still, wondering who the captain would choose to go.

"Captain. This is a high-risk mission. I must recommend that no one in the command chain go down."

"Risk is part of the job, Spock. We know almost nothing about this time period. We don't have an expert we can rely on. I'm going, with one security guard. Any more than that and we risk detection."

"Very well, Captain," Spock said, his tone heavy with a suppressed sigh. "Then, I recommend that you take Arthur Temadsen with you. The lieutenant has expertise in hand-to-hand combat, projectile weaponry, and a personal interest in archaic engineering."

"What kind of archaic engineering?"

"Combustion engines seem to be his main, though probably not only, focus."

"Very well. Have him report to the transporter room. Order the computer to replicate suitable clothing."

Kirk suppressed a sigh, seeing the "suitable clothing" that waited for him. Lt. Temadsen was wearing a leather jacket. The left side of the jacket was black leather, while the right side was short-haired fur. A length of chain around his waist held up thick, stained denim trousers, torn and patched. Heavy black boots completed the outfit. Temadsen hadn't bothered with headgear, his hair close-cropped enough to fit in well enough.

"Well. That is stylish," Kirk drawled, flatly.

Temadsen smiled, his bright blue eyes twinkling with humor, though he held in a grin. He handed Kirk a heavy bundle.

"Yours, Captain. I'm afraid it isn't any better."

"Well, I don't imagine it's much worse."

Kirk went behind the transporter console to change and revised his opinion. His boots, fortunately, were similar to Temadsen's. The rest of his outfit was leather, except for the parts that were metal chains. Some of the chains formed a codpiece that went up from his groin to wrap around his hips, uncomfortably like a metal diaper. More lengths of chain ran from a heavy belt around his waist from front to back, forming a sort of vest over a stained shirt. A short cape was tied loosely around his neck. Kirk ran his fingers over the metal studs that covered the sides of the helmet he'd been given.

"Are all these chains really a good idea? Who designed this?"

"I picked it out, sir," Temadsen admitted, sheepishly. "I thought you should look more dangerous than me."

"Dangerous? Well, yes, I suppose anyone who would wear this could be considered that."

"I had the computer replicate some weapons our scans indicate will blend in. We'd look odd, and be targets, without them, sir."

Kirk examined the array of weapons, handguns, rifles, and knives of various sizes, grimacing. He picked up a serrated knife and sighed.

"All right. We'll carry these, but remember we're not here to fight. We'll also carry standard phasers, set to stun. Let's hope we don't have to use any of this."

"Of course, sir," Temadsen agreed, taking his share of the weapons and tucking them away.

Most living things yearn to communicate. Birds cheep, garbluses spriffle, and cats meow. Thinking beings, inevitably, feel the need to talk with each other. If there was a song to the universe, it was the sonic tide of voices, spreading a throbbing harmony of greeting, information, and idle gossip.

Of course, the song was flawed. Discordant notes, fighting, screaming, and cursing, broke up the harmony. Still, there was something reliable about the constant presence of chatter in sentient societies. This one was no different. Aver strode out of his ship, wearing loose layers of linen that covered the feather-like feelers that covered his cheeks and chin. They almost could have passed for a human beard, if they weren't a vibrant green. So, he and Seum wore linen over their leathers, as they headed out into the desert.

Seum looked around, frowning.

"It's amazing this planet came back from this wreck."

"That's why what we do is so important, Seum. History is a guide, to keep from repeating terrible errors and history is most effective, when you can learn about it firsthand."

"So, you never feel any doubts about taking people?"

"When we take someone who will be missed, living a content life...yes. But, it's for the greater good," Aver insisted, looking around, then sighing. "I certainly won't have any qualms about removing someone from here. They'll be far better off."

"Yeah, steady food and drink is a good thing. Are you sure our display will be around here?"

"He has to be somewhere. We're directly in the center of the triangle formed by the three civilizations he is supposed to have founded. Most nomadic sentients keep within a certain territory. For now, we will suppose he is in the area. If he isn't, we might find someone who is familiar with his route."

Seum grabbed Aver's arm and dragged him behind a nearby tent, making a warning hiss in his throat.

"Now, Seum," Aver whispered. "Do calm down. This is a dangerous time, certainly, but we've braved worse."

"I saw a transporter beam."

"Then, again, we've never been pursued by the Enterprise. Which direction?"

"East."

"Fine. We'll go North."

"Not west?"

"No, no. They'll probably head in a straight line. North it is, unless you prefer to go south?"

Seum blinked, giving a half-shrug.

"I don't see how it matters. North is good. Though. Maybe we should try and get a look at them?"

"Erm. I'd rather not, thank you."

"But..."

"Oh, all right! Don't twist my arm about it," Aver snapped, his face feelers throbbing and inflating.

"I thought you told me to calm down."

"Yes, well, I did. It's no good both of us being anxious. I need you to keep a clear head."

Seum kept his sigh silent, nodding. There was no use arguing. Aver was simply like that, so Seum headed north.

#mad max #salt and light #star trek #tos

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dankusner · 4 months ago

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You have not heard these priceless Texas stories about LBJ

Skip the profanity

You have not heard these priceless Texas stories about LBJ

In my line of business, you meet quite a few Texas storytellers. ●

One of the finest is Ken Ashworth. ●

Ashworth, 92, grew up in poverty, mostly in South Austin and East Austin during the 1930s and ‘40s, after his mysterious father abandoned the family. ●

His astonishing memoir about that strange but ultimately uplifting time, “Phantom in the Family,” has few peers. ●

State commissioner of higher education for 20 years — do people in Texas government last that long these days? — Ashworth served in the U.S. Navy before attending Syracuse University and the University of Texas, where he earned his Ph.D.

He worked in management in Washington, D.C. and San Francisco before taking top posts at UT campuses in Austin and San Antonio.

Along the way, Ashworth met captivating characters in places high and low.

Using his training as a historian, he collected and shared priceless stories about those people.

He could do so, in part, because of his quiet, amiable demeanor and his ability to listen actively.

Ashworth recently released another cache of tales, “Stories Better Not Told: Recollections from a Lifetime,” which one can purchase online or at BookPeople.

“Many of the stories here came from my seeming to be part of the furniture,” Ashworth writes with typical modesty, “while I was really a fly on the wall — and taking notes.”

With the author’s permission, I’ve taken this opportunity to share several short, funny tales from the book about one of the most outsized Texans of them all, President Lyndon Baines Johnson.

Anyone who knew LBJ’s personality could predict that I’ve been forced to edit around the worst of the president’s profanity.

Unless you know Ashworth personally, you’ve probably never heard these LBJ stories before.

For the sake of history, thank goodness scores of them are preserved in this enlightening and entertaining book.

LBJ and the owl in the White House tree

A friend who had worked briefly as a military aide in the White House told me he got to swapping stories with a couple of the Secret Service agents who also spent some idle time around the mansion.

They told him late one night three agents on duty heard loud shouting at the back of the White House.

They dashed out and looked up to find President Johnson at his window, shaking his fist and yelling, “Goddamn it, shut the (expletive) up. Now, damn it. Now!”

“Mr. President, what’s going on?” one of the agents called out.

“Don’t you hear that goddamn owl hooting? He’s keepin’ me awake. Get a gun and shoot the son of a bitch.”

“I think we can scare him away,” an agent said.

Now that LBJ had an audience, he made a show of it.

“No, I want that son of a bitch dead. He’s keeping the president of the United States awake. Now get a shotgun and shoot the (expletive).”

“Mr. President,” the officer in charge said, “I don’t think we should be firing guns out here in the middle of the night. There will be stories all over town tomorrow. I don’t think we ought to shoot that owl.”

“Well then, one of you shinny up that tree and strangle the son of a bitch.”

The junior officer took off his coat and shoes and handed his weapon to a colleague.

He started up the tree.

The owl flew away.

In closing his window, LBJ said, “If you’d been quicker, you coulda caught the little (expletive).”

LBJ finds the right Secret Service agent

Secret Service agents working in the White House sometimes found it challenging.

One agent told my friend, “We all learned in a hurry LBJ liked to have people around who could give him straight answers, right away. One of our agents had to be transferred because LBJ complained he didn’t know what was going on in the White House.

“You might guess, our supervisors took him aside and asked him what could make the president say that. He said he didn’t know; maybe it was because he couldn’t answer some of the odd things LBJ would ask him about — things that had nothing to do with his work, like ‘Why is that picture crooked?’ or ‘What’s the matter with the grass there by the walkway?’

“The agent said, ‘So I had to tell him I didn’t know.’ The Secret Service immediately undertook to instruct all us agents in the White House on how to deal with unusual questions the president asked us.

They said, ‘Make something up if necessary, nothing outrageous, but don’t say you don’t know.’

“So later, when LBJ asked a new agent why a picture was crooked, he quickly said, ‘Mr. President, we’ve just debugged this room for listening devices, and that picture was one of the things we checked out.’

Another time LBJ asked, ‘Why’s the carpet wrinkled there in the corner?’ his answer might be ‘Sir, the termite guys were here today checking things out.’

When asked about a bare spot on the lawn, the agent said something like ‘It’s the squirrels, Mr. President; the little bastards are breeding like crazy and burying acorns everywhere.’

When LBJ demanded to know why a chair was out of place, he was told, ‘I regret to tell you, sir, it was your dog, J. Edgar. We chased him out of here; that chair must’ve got moved.’

“LBJ spoke to the new man’s supervisor. ‘I really like that new boy. He gives me the straight skinny. Be sure we keep him. He knows everything going on around here.’”

What happened to Walt Rostow?

Another friend told me that during a particular international crisis, none of the key staff to President Johnson had been able to get away from their offices for several days, wearing their same clothes and sleeping on cots.

National Security Adviser Walt Rostow asked one of his colleagues to cover for him for a couple of hours; the situation was dragging on too long; he just had to get away.

When President Johnson started trying to find Rostow and began yelling about where the hell were people when he needed them, Rostow’s confidant said, “Mr. President, Walt’s gone home to take a quick shower and have a drink with Elspeth.”

“Oh, poor Walt,” Johnson said. “Why didn’t he say something? He coulda had a drink with me.”

LBJ’s daddy was another Aristotle

Harry Middleton, one of LBJ’s speechwriters, told how they were going over a speech one day in the Oval Office when the president exploded.

“What’s this crap here, ‘as Aristotle said?’ I’m talkin’ to a buncha rednecks. I can’t say that. I don’t wanna sound like some sissy prissy pants. Take that out.”

After reading on, the president said, “No, I like what he said. Leave it in. I’ll figure some way to use it.”

Harry said, “When he gave the speech and arrived at that point, LBJ said, “An’ like my ole daddy use ta say” and he quoted Aristotle.

Don’t give (expletive) answers

Otis Singletary, President of the University of Kentucky and former vice chancellor of the University of Texas System, recounted for me an experience he had with LBJ.

“Following President Johnson’s dedication of the Job Corps Center in San Marcos,” Singletary said, “there was a delegation of us who’d been invited to his ranch. So there’s a couple dozen of us sitting out there on his deck eating homemade ice cream and talking.

“To regain the center of attention, LBJ calls to his wife, ‘Bird, that’s the best goddamned ice cream I’ve ever had. I’ll have another bowl.’

And Lady Bird says, ‘I’m sorry, Lyndon; the ice cream is all gone.’

“Everybody stops eating while LBJ proceeds to lean over, looking in everybody’s bowls. He points his finger around the group and says,

‘Bird, you mean you served all these people before I got all I want?’

“Now that he’s got everybody’s attention, he gets down to business with me. He turns to me — remember, he’d made me head of his Job Corps program — and says, ‘Now, Dr. Singletary, why is that camp near my university built for only 1,500 boys? Our cities are full of young men who will be dead or in prison in two years if we don’t find some way to get ’em off the streets. What I want to know is why that camp is for only 1,500 boys. Why can’t it be bigger? Why can’t it handle 3,000 boys?’

“So I said, ‘Mr. President, we brought in the country’s best educators and best social workers and psychologists, and they studied the needs of these boys and their problems. And they all agreed 1,500 is the optimum size for a Job Corps campus.’

“LBJ looks at me while everybody is sitting there in silence, and nobody has taken another bite of ice cream.

“Then he says, ‘Perfesser, when I was runnin’ the National Youth Administration for President Roosevelt, he asked me a question like I just asked you, and I gave him a (expletive) answer like you just gave me. You know what FDR did to me? Huh? He sent me to El Paso. Dr. Singletary, how would you like to go to El Paso?’

“I said, ‘Thank you, Mr. President; I’ve seen El Paso. I think we can find a way to accommodate 3,000 boys in San Marcos.’

“So, Ken, that’s why there’s 3,000 boys in the San Marcos Job Corps Center and 1,500 at all the other centers.”

‘Lady Bird’s gonna have you for lunch’

Some of us cronies were having lunch when one of our gang, right out of the blue, said, “I’ll never forget the advice LBJ gave me.”

That got our attention. I said, “How did you know Lyndon Johnson?”

“I didn’t know you knew him either,” one of the others said. “What advice did he give you?”

“Well, I was there the day they dedicated the LBJ Library. There was this enormous crowd in Austin from all over the country. All the big muckety-mucks. I was there with my boss.

“And after all the folderal and speeches outside, I was walking up a sidewalk toward the auditorium, and suddenly, behind me, here comes LBJ with a crowd of photographers and news reporters and Secret Service agents crammed around him. They’re in a hurry.

“I got shoved out of the way and pushed into a little tree they’d just planted. I was trying to get myself untangled from a limb I’d gotten caught in.

Just as LBJ stormed by, he turned and shouted, “Boy, if you don’t get outta that tree, Lady Bird’s gonna have you for lunch.”

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princesscolumbia · 6 months ago

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Pride Month 2024 - Day 1 (ish)

So yesterday I got the idea for celebrating Pride month by posting my works out one per day (and then cycling through them for the second half of the month again, 'cause I have NOT written 30 things...yet. 🤣)

Between crunching to get the Discord server up to Alpha status and my daughter getting ready for a medical procedure, I simply lost track of the time and spoons and wound up crashing out at the end of the night without posting anything.

But! There's no rules against posting two in one day! So here's the thing for Day 1 of Pride Month 2024!

One week after the Fall Formal, Principal Celestia is surprised to learn that a near-catatonic Sunset Shimmer has been calling out for her in the girl's sleep. Sunset has been unresponsive even to professional medical authorities, so what could have prompted her to call out in her sleep for an educator who had only occasionally interacted with her?

An AU that diverges at the Fall Formal, the path Sunset and Principal Celestia travel goes in a drastically different direction that will have HUGE repercussions down the road.

One thing that confused people during the initial writing and release of this (and still catches people who don't pay attention to author's notes) is the canonical, required reading side story:

Principal Celestia has had her hands full since taking a magically mute Sunset Shimmer. It hasn't been that long since the Fall Formal, and she's still trying to figure out basic communication with her student, let alone how to get her anything remotely like a Hearth's Warming present.

A hastily dashed off letter to her pony counterpart suddenly launches her on a night of adventure that will force her to question everything she thought she knew about Sunset Shimmer and how she can help the pony-turned-girl.

Taking place at approximately the same time as Empire ch. 5, this was intended to be a quick little one-shot as a "Christmas Special" for 2019. I didn't manage to finish it until May 2020. 😅 I decided to keep it separate because the composition and story flow just don't match up with Empire. Attentive readers might notice that in Empire, each chapter follows a specific pattern:

Situations™️ happen

Flashback scene

At least partial resolution of Situations™️

Whereas MBB is just narrative with no real 'flashback' scenes whatsoever (though one could argue that ch. 2 of MBB is one long flashback, it doesn't serve for the narrative setup to be such and so still doesn't allow MBB to fit)

I'll eventually taking this fic to print (it's just too damn good) and there will be two bonus chapters included that won't necessarily impact the overall story but do wrap up a couple of dangling threads from the rest of the work.

For the curious, I wrote a fairly lengthy Author's Notes for the whole thing. You can find that here:

Not interested in going to the Horsefic website? You can also find these mirrored to AO3:

My Empire of Dirt

Music Box Blues

Happy Pride 2024!

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writersprocrastinators · 8 months ago

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Introduction!

Hi yall! Name is Bell F. Archer, but you can call me Archie and I'm a writer who has decided to make a blog for my work! I've never made one of these so here we go!

I post mostly on Instagram under @writersprocrastinators but I hope to post longer works here, updates on my WIPs, any random prompt I see, and hopefully receive tons of asks and prompt requests. I'm 26 living in the US, I enjoy many different TV shows, but I loved shows like Chuck, Bones, Castle, most of the MCU works, iZombie, Family Guy, the 100, Wynona Earp, Motherland: Fort Salem, Lucifer, ATLA, Walking dead universe, honestly the list is never ending it would be easier if yall asked if I've seen it and I'll say yes or no lol. Hope you enjoy this intro!

I'll follow your accounts from this account seeing as its my only and main account.

I however will not follow if you're under 18, or if you have no age on your blog. As another warning, this blog will contain some material that may not be suitable for underage viewers, nothing too intense but better safe than sorry. I am not responsible if you read something you should not have, and all mature content will be marked as such!

♤ About me ♤

I'm relatively new to setting up a blog on Tumblr for this purpose so if there's any tips, please send them my way!

I like fictional works ranging from crime dramas, romance, fantasy, and others like dystopian works. Honestly, I don't read nearly as much as I could, but I write a lot and enjoy fan fictions! I find fan writing to be fun to read because the writing styles tend to feel very different between all writers, for the same base content. Reading each authors twists on a particular moment is pretty inspiring! It's hard to explain, but I I love to read it, but I don't particularly write it and would love to chat about it! I'm always looking to follow blogs that post anything writing related.

♤About this blog♤

This blogs purpose is for any and all of my writings/poems/stories and whatever else I write. I'll hopefully start doing some OC introductions, world building, or any art that can connect to my works. For example, one of my WIPs has a map that I've been working on, and I've also been trying to teach myself how to draw in order to draw the OCs out (it's very hard and I'm having a hard time lol).

I'm open to asks, prompts, questions, and messages, but do keep it respectful, I don't find wasting my time to be something I enjoy. If you have any advice or recommendations please also let me know! If you'd like something written for you, in a fictional sense not an essay or something lol, I will gladly look into it!

All writing done here is entirely my own, written by me and for me. Please do not copy my work anywhere else © copyright notice is below and on this page. I hate that I even have to say this, but people steal content so often and I just dont want the headache.

♤How my writings will work♤

Not all of my work is connected, but a lot of them are part of the same "series", specifically the poems are. They’ll be tagged as the same series. The WIPs are not connected, but they both have tons of similar callbacks and subtle author references.

Most of the poems are within a part of a series, and the characters for the "conversations" are generally the same people unless I say otherwise.

♤What you can expect to see♤

On this blog you can expect to see plenty of poetry, prose, short works, and maybe even excerpts of my WIPS. Let me know what you prefer to see!

♤About my WIPS♤

Whatever Means Necessary (working title)

This is a crime drama fiction, that is by far my oldest work. It's got a dash of romance but for this one it's less and more subtle, due to its nature. Part 2 has a bit more of it, but that WIP is very far from happening. It's been in progress since 2011 about, and I have yet to finish it, hence the procrastinators part. This one is about 3-5 chapters from being done! Its all the editing that's gonna get me.

I would rate this as a new adult fiction.

Some tropes in WMN are spies, futuristic weapons, angst, life changing family news, discovering family, family nemesis, casual drug and alcohol use, slow burn (like glacial), found family, betrayal, symbolism, and besties.

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, attempted SA, death, cursing, sexual scenarios

Fallen (working title)

This is a fantasy/dystopian & adventure fiction that is newer and has many more moving parts, lore, descriptions and OCs. This one is not even close to being fully written out, but is plotted out fairly well. I learned my mistake with no outline this time around.

I would rate this again, as a new adult fiction. But too mature for young adult, not quite mature enough to be adult.

Some tropes in Fallen are enhanced human abilities, zombie-esque creatures, mythical creatures and beings, monsters, reinvented military, dystopian governments, utopian governments, romance, not so slow slow burn, extreme angst, character death, defying destiny, defying fate, mental health exploration, race discussions and combating aggressions, found family, gender and sexuality exploration, positions of power, morally grey characters, betrayal, and symbolism.

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, mentions and attempts of SA, major and side character death, cursing, sexual scenarios, murder, illness, heavy casual drug and alcohol use. This work is considerably grittier.

Hope you enjoyed the Intro! First post is coming within the next few days!

Have a beautiful one, Bell.

#creative writing #writing #author #poets of tumblr #poets on poetry #poets on tumblr #poetsandwriters #poetscommunity #poetsclub #sad poems #work in progress #writers on tumblr #blog intro #intro post #writersprocrastinators #short poem #short story #poems and prose

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pleasantanathema · 4 years ago

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Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader]

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

#writer recs #bnha #haikyuu #attack on titan #fanfiction #bnha fanfic #hq fanfic #aot fanfiction #bnha x reader #haikyuu x reader #aot x reader #amazing writers #pleasant speaks #my hero academia #haikyuu!!#my hero academia fanfic

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theresthesnitch · 2 years ago

Note

Who is someone you think is 'up and coming' in the fandom that you think deserves some love/attention on their creations?

Oooof I know this is anon ask hour, but I'm horrible at this kind of question.

I don't really read enough to keep an eye on "new" writers. I have two little little kids and work a full time job, so my writing/reading time is very limited, and I usually pick writing. I just can't keep up with all the fics being published. Plus, when I am reading, it's almost always something a friend wrote or a rec from a friend (or, a reblog on Tumblr).

However, there's definitely a lot of new people writing a lot of great things! I see things fly across my dash all the time that I really want to read, and just never get around to. (On that note, PLEASE reblog your fics and update multiple times! I'm one of those people who might miss the first pass and catch the second or third.)

@jilyawards has a category for best new author, so please please check out their nominations when the time comes. Also, I've noticed a lot of newer writers trying their hands at @wolfstarmicrofic, so go read some of those and follow the ones you like! Fests are also a great way to find new writers! Check out @hprarepairfest, which is posting now, or @firstwizardingwarfest which has been posting, and @jilychallenge is a great one to check too! Also, @mixed-up-writer-fest and @hpknotfest because I love all of the people participating in my fests.

Send me an ask about anything at all!

#snitch answers asks #anon ask hour

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therenlover · 4 years ago

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Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

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lululawrence · 3 years ago

Note

Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

#long post #rant #i almost deleted this #but you sent it on just the right day and instead i let loose #this is unedited and unbetaed lmao but ENJOY #or don't #whatever #writing stuff #i should tag it #writing SHIT #but that's not really a tag i keep cause who wants to keep track of the negatives #not me

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marvellovegalore · 4 years ago

Text

Hurting you

Chris Evans

Part Une - Loving You

Synopsis: You encounter your lost love Christopher and you talk about how you've done something awful.

Word Count: 1,954

Author note: This part is the follow-up to my latest write up, which I realise didn't garner much attention, but a second part was requested. Strongly advised to read part one.

Warning: Explicit Language, Mention of Drugs

Champagne showers your throat, its cool bubbles rippling inside you and all the way down your body. Your hips sway as you make your way through the tightly packed group of people. Laughter surrounds you as you re-join the dancing fray. A green-eyed model grabs you around the waist, his hands grabbing the thin material of your dress. The end of your dress dances over your high-heeled feet, you twist in the model’s arms and sway against him. Your back presses against him and he holds you tighter.

He whispers something in your ear, something or another about leaving with him to ‘fuck’ on the beach. You barely hear it over the music. Your eyes scanning over your friends that are sprawled around the room, all of them dressed in their finest threads. You would have taken him up on the offer, had it not been for the fact that you have been dating a particular Hollywood leading actor. You’d rather not have any outright fight at a party you’re enjoying because of ‘cheating’.

You move away from the model’s tight hold; you can almost hear his sigh. You dance over to a friend who beckons you to come with her to the bar. You gladly follow, reaching the bar takes a few minutes due to the crowd clambering over their drinks. You finally reach the bar; you lounge on the mirrored countertop. The barman approaches you, “Death in the Afternoon.” You wink at him, he smiles politely.

You turn and scan the room your eyes glazing the room, you catch sight of your date, hiding in a nook. He raises a glass to you, and you turn away from him. Drinking the sight of the partying people fills your stomach, many of them can’t help but stare at you, your presence like a diamond in the rough.

And there he is.

Your breath catches in your throat.

His arm draped across the shoulders of a tanned brunette; her eyes unmoving - glued to his. His lips ghost over hers, they way they used to do to your lips; giggles are whispered through her lips. Wearing a full suit with an undone bow tie strung around his neck - he looks like a drunken dream.

You want him.

He hasn’t noticed you. Or is pretending that he hasn’t.

It’s been six months since that night. You barely remember it; you were so intoxicated - on alcohol and Diazepam. An entirely irresponsible mixture, you try to pretend to yourself that you don’t know why you took what you did; but you know why. It was the only way that you had the courage to do what you did. Otherwise, you’d be with—

“One Death in the Afternoon.” The muscular barman places the crystal flute in front of you, you let a smirk grace your lips. If you weren’t in the same room as your date, you’d fuck him. But you’re trying to change.

You turn back in his direction, your friend also spots him, she promises that she’ll do everything to keep you guys apart. Your friends and family were informed of an amicable break-up with tears shed on both sides - by him. The media reported something similar - both PR teams sending well wishes to the other party and asking for privacy for those involved.

You weren’t aware of the amicable breakup until the email was forwarded to you by your PR head. You had blocked his number, but he had blocked you in every other way possible; you won’t pretend that it was unwarranted. Nor will you pretend that it didn’t hurt, but you couldn’t begin to imagine how much he was hurt.

You’ve done worse, but you don’t think you’ve ever done it to someone you actually loved.

You find yourself back in the folie of dancing, your dress billowing around your legs, its silky touch caressing your skin. You catch sight of the tanned brunette entering the dance floor; he’s following her, his hands toying with her waist.

They dance closely, his eyes roaming her body hungrily. You feel like vomiting. This isn’t fair. You close your eyes and knock your head back, willing the horrible sight away. The songs change twice before you open your eyes properly, your eyes immediately lower to where he is. Their lips are locked, their eyes shut off from the party, his hands dance on her arse.

You are most definitely going to throw up.

You rush away from the crowd, attracting concerned gazes, brushing off the offers of help, you finally manage to leave the house. You edge towards the pool and double over, you dry heave over the grass. You will the vomit up, but it is to no avail. You move away from the tennis style grass and make your way through the garden. Your walk leads you to the sea just beyond the expansive garden. The sky is a warm umber, the setting sun barely visible.

You don’t know how long you’ve been stood there, but you feel a presence behind you. You pray it’s not your date - demanding you keep him company.

You turn and feel your heart stop.

He looks beautiful. It’s the most undeniable beauty you’ve ever seen. He makes your heart throb.

Your heart swells, a feeling you’ve only ever felt once blanketing your heart.

Longing.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust someone so much ever again.” His voice is husky, his accent very noticeable. “I couldn’t figure out whether speaking to you would be a good idea, but I really wanted to understand,” he sighs deeply, his fingers whisking out a pack of Marlboros out of his pocket, “even a slither of your psyche.” He lights one cigarette and exhales.

You watch him intently but divert your gaze when he looks at you. “What do you mean?” You whisper. Your courage has left you, and your confidence has set itself on fire.

He nudges the cigarette towards you, “I know you’re more of a vogues girl, but you’re going to have to forgo that right now.” You take the offered cig and pop it in between your lips. It tastes of him somehow and you want to die. “I’ve been fucked up since I left Massachusetts, unbelievably so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way.” He takes a tremulous breath.

You’re frozen. The cigarette needing to be ashed, he takes it from your fingers. He takes a swift inhalation. “I may have developed a mild dependency on alcohol… and on you. I can’t go to parties without thinking of you. I can’t get out of bed without thinking of you, I can’t breathe — without thinking of you.” His breathing is steady, his words stronger than the wind carried by the sea. You can’t breathe, his words taking the majority of your oxygen, he hands you back the cigarette.

“If I hadn’t done it then, you would have done it first.” You shiver with the cold breeze from the surf. If you could choose between kissing him or dissipating, you would choose to dissipate right into the sand.

His eyes flash across to you, his irises seething with anguish and droplets of anger. “It’s not a race, it never should be.” His hiss cuts across your chest, almost shattering your pearls. “I loved you, like I’ve never loved anyone.” His words make you look at him. The eyes that haunt your dreams are there, right there, less than a step away. The wind brushes his tendrils of golden hair across his face, he looks like a kaleidoscope manifested into flesh. “But I hate you now, in ways I have never hated someone.”

You feel like you’ve been stabbed in the neck.

You can feel a tear slip past your eyelashes, and you almost curse the skies. “That’s fine.” You choke quietly, your voice on the cusp of being drowned by the waves.

“I’ve moved on. I’m happy.” He sighs, he dashes the cigarette stub into the ocean, his hands going back into his pockets. His eyes don’t shift away from yours. “But you haunt me.” He looks away, towards the darkened horizon. “If I could choose between you dying or the Boston bomber - I would choose you.”

Your eyes widen with horror.

You’ve never been confronted with the pain you’ve caused. It’s never bothered you that men would desperately try to tarnish your image in salacious magazines. But this, this hurt you. Finally.

You can’t stop the tears now. You sink into the sand. The water washes against the borders of your legs. You choke a sob back.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is small and dejected.

“That’s alright.” He’s lit another cigarette. He sits down next to you, offering you a toke. You take it, peaking at him from under your eyelashes.

Looking up at him, you’re met with a longing gaze.

You’re going to wonder forever what’s possessed him, but his lips find yours. They’re the light at the end of the tunnel and following the path to it guarantees his survival.

The embrace is bittersweet, sprinkled with pleasant familiarity. The taste of smoke tendrils dances between your tongues. His fingers swim in your hair, greedily pulling you deeper into his kiss. You want to die in his arms, it would be indeed the heavenliest way to die. You grab his shirt and hold on for dear life, his wine-soaked tongue intoxicating you further. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids and you sink further into him.

He breaks away from the kiss. His eyes riddled with unspoken secrets.

He stands up, his hand extending towards you. Lifting you to your feet and taking your hand in his, he begins to sway with you to the muffled music coming from the house. His hand rests above your bum, comfortably leading you in this dance. You lean your head against his chest, inhaling the smell of cologne and Marlboro Reds. The smell that used to wake you up on holiday weekends. A tear slips from your eye, a manifestation of your longing and your need for him.

Why do hurt people, hurt people?

You recall the day your father left your mother for dead.

“Where’s mum going, daddy?” You look up at the towering figure of your father.

His stern gaze remains on the distressed woman being handcuffed to the gurney. He brushes off your question with a glare embalmed with stone. You gulp and return your stare to your screaming mother; you rush to her, but a paramedic stops you in your tracks. Your mothers begs your father to let her go, her cries echoing around the front garden. Her roses seemingly wilt in sympathy for their weeping creator. She screams and fights against the paramedics, your father doesn’t wait until the doors of the ambulance have been closed before he closes the front door.

You rush to the living room window, standing beyond the curtain with your face pressed against the glass, you watch your mother being driven away.

You’ll never see her again and never know where she took her last breaths; and you’ll be transferred to board at your school. You see your father annually and eventually he leaves you for retirement in South Africa, you’re alone and unloved.

So, you steal hearts so that your own can heal.

Chris breaks your dance, his hypnotising spell diluted by the distance imposed by his now hardened glare. He turns and leaves, his shadow furthering away from your own. You watch in astonishment as he leaves you, cigarette smoke billowing away from his receding figure.

You can’t help the stream that washes your cheekbones.

He’s done the impossible - broke you.

Part 3 -

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shyficwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Temporary Home: Chapter 16

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter takes the ride into town as an opportunity to be extra annoying, but you also finally find out just how he got into space. The prank war continues. Will you finally declare Peter "The Prank Master," or has he finally met his match?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: This is a long one! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 29 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,661

Peter's face was still red by the time you finished pulling your boots on. He had just come out of the bathroom and stood near you as you got up from the bench. He had a strange look about his face and when you went to ask, "What?" he grabbed your wrist with a wet hand and said, "Don't ya hate when you pee on your hands?"

This, of course, was revenge for you embarrassing him just a few minutes prior.

Your expression turned murderous and you ripped your arm away. Was he serious? How dare he! What the hell was wrong with him!? Just as you were angrily saying, "I'm going to fucking kill you!" and absolutely looking like you'd actually follow through, Peter held up his hands and said through laughter, "It's a joke! It's just a joke! It's just water! I promise!"

You backed down slightly, anger still burning in your eyes. "You know I don't have to take you, right? Fury said I could take anyone who passes for human." Just then Kraglin walked by and you gestured to him. "I could just take him instead if you want to start out being a little shit."

Kraglin grinned at the two of you and, clearly seeing that Peter had managed to push your buttons already, said, "Nah. I can catch the next one," and continued on his way up the stairs.

You huffed in his direction before turning to Peter in frustration. "Just get in the car. And don't piss me off."

Peter gave a little mock-salute and followed you out.

You could have killed him on the ride into town. The annoyance was constant.

He started by turning up the radio and singly badly along with the songs, made worse due to the fact that most of which he didn't know the words to. Eventually you couldn't take it anymore and you shut the radio off.

He tried to turn it back on a bit later and you smacked his hand away, only able to do so now that your braced arm wasn't in a sling and you could now grip the wheel with both hands.

He then started asking, "Are we there yet?" about every minute. He knew you weren't close.

This was coupled with the classic, "I'm not touching you!" game. You almost didn't notice for the first five minutes, intent on ignoring him and keeping your eyes on the road. When you finally did notice and tell him to knock it off, well, you know what he responded with.

You were fuming when you finally pulled into the post office. You threw the car into park and angrily ordered him to sit quietly and promptly left him.

He was actually starting to wonder if maybe he should cool it for a bit. You did look pretty mad... probably still weren't over the whole fake pee on hands prank. Maybe he shouldn't go through with what he was considering next?

When you finished your business in the mail office and returned to the car you were actually surprised to find that he had behaved. You don't know what you had actually expected him to do- maybe get out and crouch beside the car to make you think he'd run off?- but no. He was still sitting right where you left him.

You get back behind the wheel and toss your mail on the dash, prepared to head to the grocery shop. Peter doesn't say anything.

The short ride over you were a little leery of just how quiet he was being. He was too quiet. When you pulled in park at the grocery lot you turned to give him a suspicious look.

"What?" he asked innocently, returning your gaze.

"You. What are you up to?"

"What ever do you mean?" He wore a face of innocence, but you knew better.

"The whole ride into town you didn't let up with all your annoying shit, now on the ride from the post office to here you act like a perfect angel. I don't trust it."

"Thought you could use a break is all, you seemed really cranky." A grin was starting to crack Peter's innocent façade. "You know... I think I know what might cheer you up..."

Your eyes narrowed. "Peter-" Whatever he intended, judging by his tone you knew it couldn't be good.

Before you could say more his hand darted out to connect with that spot above your knee, which of course made you spasm in your seat and cackle loudly. Whatever you had been expecting, for some reason you foolishly didn't consider that. You really should have though, considering how often you would now get teased with little pokes and squeezes. Unfortunately for you, a good portion of your guests were apparently an affectionate bunch... Or maybe they just liked to annoy you. You weren't sure which.

You smacked and pushed at his hand but he didn't let up. "Peter! Peter stop that this instant!" you scolded through your laughter.

"Come on, cheer up sour-puss!" he teased in a high voice, still squeezing rapidly into the muscle. "Being stuck with me isn't that bad."

"You little shit!" you cried, smacking at him again, your eyes closed tightly as you laughed and kicked to the best of your ability, trying your best not to accidentally lash out and hit the horn. You were effectively trapped by having a car as your surroundings. So unfair. "Stop it! Cut it out!"

Peter finally stopped and grinned at you as you caught your breath, chuckling when you punched him in the shoulder.

"You're such a brat!" you said, residual giggles still slipping out. However, you didn't seem quite as angry as you had been, so Peter counted it as a win. Maybe now you wouldn't be quite as cranky with him when you discovered the prank he had pulled on you. Honestly he was surprised you hadn't noticed before you sat down...

After a moment you spoke again. "Come on, let's get this over- aw shit."

"What?" Peter asked, confused by your sudden change of tone.

"You didn't bring those sunglasses with you this time, did you?"

"Oh..." Peter's eyes widened in realization. Not wanting to have to wait out in the car he thought to reason. "I think it'll be ok. I mean, It's been what- like 26 years since I went missing? And I wasn't even from this area of Earth so I really doubt anyone would recognize me-"

Your eyes widen as big as saucers. "Excuse me?"

"What?"

"Went missing??" Had you seriously heard him right? Did Fury know?Who were you kidding? Of course Fury knew. Fury knew everything.

"Oh... so you didn't know about that... Ha- well it's fine! Honest! I was just trying to let you know it'll be fine if I don't wear some lame disguise like sunglasses-"

"That's not why I had insisted on the sunglasses! It was for any possible undercover aliens looking for you! I didn't know you'd be on the missing persons bulletin!"

Peter could see you were stressed. That wasn't good in his opinion. You'd be no fun to pick on if you were worried, so he tried to smooth it over. After all, it really was fine. "Look, everything's fine. Ok? I was on that list for missing people, Fury told me that shortly after we arrived, but we talked about it and he made sure I was wiped from it just in case."

You relaxed a little, sitting back in your seat. You turn to look at him again. "Twenty-six years... that means you were, what? Ten?"

"Eight," he corrected.

"That's not better." you reply, and then a realization hit you. "Wait- is that how you got into space? Were you literally abducted by aliens?" Yes, you might have been aware of aliens due to your employment by SHIELD, but from the little you had seen of and about them you had come to assume that the whole "alien abduction" thing was a myth crazy people talked about. They just barely came here, let alone had use for random Earth people.

"Like I said, it's a long story." Peter answered, "We should probably get going." he cracked his door open and gestured with his head towards the store.

Remembering yourself, you give a half nod and exit your vehicle so you could complete the shop visit.

As the two of you walked towards the shop you speak up. "Is it alright if I ask what happened? You don't have to answer if it's a bad memory or anything. I'm just curious about... you know..."

"What?"

"Like, you must have had a family? Now that you're here, why haven't you tried to find them?"

Peter looked like he was searching for the right words. "It's kinda complicated."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's fine." he said as the two of you entered the shop.

You grabbed a trolley and looked at him to see if he would continue, but hoping that he wouldn't feel you were pressuring him.

After a moment he did continue. "My mom died right before it happened. Literally minutes before." Seeing the look on your face and realizing what you might be assuming he clarified. "It was cancer. She'd been sick a long time."

"I'm so sorry." You say, leading him towards the haircare section of the store to start knocking things off your list.

He shook his head, trying to vanish the memory of her lying in that hospital bed. "Yeah... me too." He sighed and went on to say how when it happened he was upset, and angry. She was gone just like that and he didn't know what to do. So he just ran. He ran outside the hospital and then just collapsed on the lawn. Next thing he knew there was the bright light of a spaceship right above him, and it took him.

"It just randomly came by took you? For no reason?" You ask, approaching the hair wash section and deciding on a conditioner that you thought Gamora might like the scent of. You turned to Peter for his opinion and he pointed out a lavender scented one before answering about the motives of his abductors.

"No, they had a reason" he said, "Turned out my father was this celestial being and sent them to fetch me. But of course I didn't know that at the time. Like I said, mom had cancer. In her brain. So when she said my dad was this 'angel' composed of 'pure light', of course no one believed her. They just thought it was the tumor."

"Oh. Wow." You didn't know what to say to that as the two of you were now walking over to the moisturizers. Eventually you settled on, "So you've been with your dad then?" Just as you finished that sentence something clicked in your brain, but you thought for sure it couldn't be right, could it? "Wait, do you mean Yondu? He's your father?"

Peter laughed. "Are you serious? Drax thought the same thing. "

You frowned slightly, picking out a decent smelling lotion and dropping it into the basket. "Well, I have heard him refer to you as "my boy" at least a couple times, and you just said your dad was alien. I think you could see why I might now make that connection there."

Peter smiled softly, seeming lost in thought. "Yeah, yeah I guess. But not exactly. You see, Yondu was the guy my father hired to fetch me. He was supposed to take me to him, but he didn't. He kept me."

You gave Peter a confused look as you led the way towards the razors. You knew from Peter's last story that Yondu had been the captain of a faction of space-pirates called Ravagers before joining the Guardians, but this bit was news to you. Apparently Peter was with the Ravagers before the Guardians of the Galaxy, but why had Yondu kept him? Why not just give him to his father?

Peter continues. "I know what you're thinking, but like I said, it's complicated. He kept me to protect me. 'Course, for the longest time he never told me that. Always said he kept me 'cause I was skinny and good for thieving."

"Protect you from... your father?" You asked. How bad must his father have been for a space pirate captain to decide the kid was better off joining the crew? You raised an eyebrow at him as you grabbed some decent disposable razors off the shelf. Upon second thought, you grabbed some refill-heads as well.

"Yeah. Remember how I told you about that time we saved the galaxy from Ronan, and I was able to touch the Infinity stone without immediately dying?"

"Yeah?" You now led the way towards the DIY section. You knew it was unlikely, but hopped that maybe the shop carried some filler so you might finally repair that chip in the wall above the back door from where Yondu killed that spider for you. You would have already fixed it by now, but the tub of filler you did have was long dried up. Kraglin asked about it the other day, stating he didn't remember that being there when they arrived, and you passed it off as the house being old, unwilling to admit what had actually happened.

"Well, word spread about that pretty fast because I shouldn't have been able to do that." Peter continued, following beside you. "My father caught word of a man who was able to hold an infinity stone and live, and knew it had to be me, so he tracked me down."

"And that was... bad?" You asked, turning into your desired aisle.

"Not at first. At first it was cool. He took us back to his planet- that's where we met Mantis- and this next part is really gonna blow your mind, the whole planet was him."

"What? How does that even work?"

"Honestly, I don't even fully get it, but like I said, he was a celestial. He just was the planet. The guy who we met was just like this... avatar version he made of himself to travel and stuff. He had like these magic powers, and he taught me how to use them... kinda."

"Wait, so you have special powers?" you ask, "I had no idea." You were so surprised by these revelations that you almost missed the small tubs of repair filler the shop did carry, but recovered and placed one in the basket.

Peter rubbed the back of his head. "Well, not exactly. Not anymore. You see, they came from his celestial genes- it's the only reason I was able to hold onto that infinity stone and live- but anyway, I don't have them anymore. I um, I kinda had to... kill him. And when he died so did the light, so I'm just a regular Terran now."

"What?!" you gave him a very confused look. "Did you just say you killed your own dad?" You tried to keep your voice low. You had been lucky to avoid too many other shoppers during this conversation, but just then a couple of boys walked by. You eyed them, but they were lost in their own conversation and didn't seem to have heard or cared about what you had said. You continued towards the cleaning supplies, remembering you were dangerously low on various cleaners for the bathrooms.

"Again, complicated," Peter replied. "He turned out to be not such a good dude. Long story short, He had this plan to expand and make the entire universe him, like he would literally be the only thing left, but he needed another celestial to help him- that's where I came in. Apparently he had a butt-load of other kids, but I was the only one that actually inherited the celestial gene. Well, obviously I had doubts about his whole plan. I mean, all my friends would be gone, for one." He chuckled. "But he was... quite convincing. I don't even think I could describe the things he showed me..." He trailed off, and then seemed to remember himself a moment later. "Anyway, eventually he told me he was the one who put the tumor in my mom's head and that finally snapped me out of it."

You were taken aback. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. That's awful!"

He shrugged. "Nah. Don't be. That guy was a jackass. I mean, who names themself "Ego" anyways?"

"Probably the type of person who wants to literally be the center of the universe," you quipped.

Peter chuckled and nudged you in the shoulder, apparently appreciative of the joke. "Yeah. I suppose it probably was fitting for him..." he stared off for a moment. "Anyway, it's funny that you thought that Yondu was my father, because all that happening made me realize that Yondu had actually kinda been my dad all along."

You give him a quizzical look as the two of you reach the aisle you were looking for, and he just grins knowingly in return. "Complicated?" you say, sure that that would be his answer.

"Yes and no." Peter answered, and then just let the silence linger.

After a bit you asked him. "You said Ego had other children? Do you know what ever happened to them?"

Peter frowned. "He killed them. They didn't have what he needed, so he just killed them. There was a whole cavern on the planet filled with their bones."

You only managed a soft, "Oh." You felt your stomach twist. What kind of bastard would kill their own- You shook that thought away, telling yourself to compose yourself. Not now.

"Yeah. I know. Pretty dark." Peter said, his tone obvious he was trying his best to keep it light. He didn't say anything, but he saw something in you change a little when he revealed Ego just murdered his own kids like it was nothing, and he remembered a previous conversation he had with you about that job you had in Romania and part of him wished he had lied just then. He tried to steer the conversation in a happier direction for both of your sakes. He didn't like to think about it either. "Apparently at some point Yondu had found out what Ego had been doing with all those kids he had him fetch, and that's why he kept me. I think I turned out alright, all things considered." He nudged you and gave you a wide cheeky grin.

You couldn't help but grin as you responded, "I dunno... depends if any of that contributed to how annoying you are." You located the toilet cleaners and plunked a couple bottles in the trolley.

"Hey!" Peter mock-pouted, but he was glad that the mood had been lifted again.

The two of you walked in silence towards the tub cleaners when Peter suddenly says, "Oh hey, you dropped something."

You stop and look around for whatever might have fallen out of the trolley, asking him what you had dropped.

Peter grinned and said, "Your speed."

You roll your eyes at him. You weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the lameness of the joke, or the fact that you fell for it. "Really? You're gonna start that again?"

"Yup." Peter grinned.

You just shook your head and continued down the aisle to grab some disinfectant wipes, but little did he know you had a trick up your sleeve.

The wipes were just before the air fresheners and after you grabbed the wipes and were walking past you picked up a refill at random and said, "Oh hey, you should smell this."

"Nice try, I'm not falling for that." Peter said.

"Falling for what?" you ask innocently.

"I bet it smells like crap, you're just trying to get me back for the other day."

You roll your eyes dramatically. "It says on the package it's 'Blossom and Breeze.' Here," you smell it yourself to prove to him it wasn't nasty. "See? You're so paranoid. They wouldn't sell these if they smelled bad." You offer the item back to him with an unimpressed look.

Seeming mostly convinced he hesitantly takes the item from you and slowly brings it up to sniff it. Then he looks confused. "I don't smell anything?"

You knew he wouldn't, it was encased in plastic, but that wasn't the prank. "Oh, you might need to breathe deeper, they put the scent in the cardboard bit so people can test it before they buy it, it can be a little faint." This was a blatant lie. Sure, this could have made a decent prank on it's own, but it still wasn't the prank you were going for. It was more of a distraction until that group of pretty young women you clocked entering the aisle earlier when grabbing the wipes had made their way close enough, which they would in 3... 2... 1...

You snatched the item away from a now very confused Peter.

"These don't go in your mouth! How many times do I gotta tell you!?" you ask, acting exasperated.

Peter opened his mouth but seemed at a loss for words. Then he noticed the handful of pretty women walking by who were now staring at him and giggling to each other behind their hands as you said, "They're not gonna taste like how they smell, we've been over this!"

His cheeks started to redden and he turned his attention from the departing group of young ladies to you, his expression switching from wide-eyed and embarrassed to unamused, having now understood what you did.

You were giggling now and he narrowed his eyes at you. "Not cool, dude!"

You tossed the item back on the shelf and, still giggling, said, "But it sure was funny."

Peter just grumbled and followed you to the grocery section.

You spotted some brownie mix and asked him if he thought his friends might like to try brownies.

"Probably. And if they don't like them, more for us." He punctuated the sentence by taking the box from your hand and plopping it in the trolley, making you shake your head and giggle at him.

You then grabbed the couple snacks that had been requested as well as a few things you'd enjoy, including some ice-cream since you found the guys had eaten all of it when you returned from your last trip into town.

Just as you were dropping the ice cream in the trolley Peter decided that would be time for his revenge. There were several people about doing their shopping in that particular aisle when he suddenly said out loud, "Hey, is that rash still contagious?"

You looked at him, mortified, and you noticed the people start to quietly but quickly clear out of the aisle. You give him a glare, but just sigh and say, "Well played."

"I thought so." Peter replied, looking proud of himself.

"Still not 'The Master.'"

"We'll see," he chuckled.

You finished up the trip, and headed home. Gratefully, Peter wasn't nearly as annoying on the return trip.

You supposed the whole trip could have gone worse. It really was too bad you didn't get a chance to go alone though. You might have been able to grab some glitter for... nefarious purposes. Though, you supposed you could always order it online. Oh well, at least you managed to pick up some jelly. He wouldn't be suspicious of jelly... until you used it against him, that is.

***

It wouldn't be until you had been home for a little bit that you would discover what prank Peter had pulled on you in the car. Or rather, Kraglin discovered it.

You were getting a glass of water when Kraglin cleared his throat and awkwardly asked you why there was blue tape on your bottom.

You raised and eyebrow and reached back while Rocket snickered and teased Kraglin, asking him why he had been looking at your ass.

Kraglin began to stutter. "I-I wasn't! It's just- The tape is bright blue! Her pants are black! How was I not supposed to see it!?" He was blushing now and decided to just leave the room. Why did the rat have to be such a dick?

You peeled the strip of blue tape off your butt and looked at it with a half frown before looking up at Peter who was standing with Rocket and grinning. "You have anything to do with this?" you ask accusingly. Who were you kidding? It's not like you just happened to sit on blue tape. Of course he had something to do with it, but how?

Peter grinned wider then pulled the rest of the roll out of one of his pockets. "I put a piece of this sticky side up in your car seat before you got out of the Post Office." He then tossed the roll to you. "Found it in one of those drawers," he said, pointing to the drawers behind you.

"I see you fancy yourself the Artful Dodger," you say in annoyance to his confession that he had knicked the tape with the sole purpose of annoying you. You also realized this meant you had walked around the whole shop with blue tape on your bottom. Well, you supposed there were worse things... like what you were sure to do with that blue dye tonight.

"I have no idea what that means." Peter replied.

You roll your eyes at him, but not altogether surprised he didn't get the reference. "Nevermind." you say, tossing the tape back in the drawer. "Childish..."

Peter just chuckled and left the kitchen.

***

If you hadn't been set on using that food dye to prank Peter the past few days, you definitely were now.

Sometime after discovering the blue tape, you went upstairs and thought you might put one of your sticky notes to use. You stuck with the classic, 'kick me', sign, and thought it'd be a good idea to sneak up behind and jump-scare him and use that as a diversion to stick it to his back. It worked as expected.

It took him less than half an hour to find it. Or rather, Mantis found it, and asked him why he had a sign telling people to kick him on his back. She plucked the sign from his shirt and he turned to see what she was talking about. Taking the sticky note from her, he frowned in annoyance for becoming victim to one of the oldest tricks in the book, and then shouted your name.

You, of course, didn't answer. Just smiled behind your book in your room, of course not realizing that your prank had technically failed.

In revenge, Peter decided to bring up a video on YouTube he came across the previous day titled, "Broken TV screen 1 hour" and set it to play on full screen. Then he went to fetch you.

***

You were in the kitchen when Rocket startled you by jumping up to climb up your back without warning. He had managed to climb all the way up to your head when you let out a startled yelp and asked, "What are you doing??" as you jerked from the unexpected sensation of being climbed on.

"Hold still, will ya? Just needed a boost up to reach up to this cabinet, don't get your panties in a bunch," he said with half a chuckle, balancing himself on your head as he opened the cupboard.

"You never needed one before now!" you said, irritated. That was the cupboard you kept the glasses in, and you'd seen him get up there just fine plenty of times without needing a human ladder.

"Eh. You were there," he said, amusement in his voice. It was seemingly clear he had only done this to annoy you.

"Will you hurry up and get down!" you said, trying to keep the giggles out of your voice as his tail was flitting over your ear.

"What, ya got somewhere to be?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes! Anywhere without a rac- a furry little beast sitting on my head!" you replied through gritted teeth. You were still trying- and mostly failing- to hide your giggles. Yes, maybe you could have told him to cut it out with the tail twitching, but you didn't want to admit that it tickled. Last thing you needed was to reveal a weakness for the raccoon to exploit.

Rocket heard how you almost called him a raccoon, but let it slide because you stopped yourself. Mostly. He'd allow you to live, however, he stayed up there a couple moments more, pretending to take his time deciding on a cup and grinning as he continued flitting his tail over your ear. He knew exactly what he was doing. The little shit.

He finally grabbed a cup and closed the cupboard, teasingly scolding, "Hey, hold still!" when his tail "accidentally" brushed your neck on the way down and you jerked your head to the side from the sensation, and then twitched when he hit a particularly sensitive area of your shoulder blade on his descent. That one actually had been an accident, but he still logged it away for later. Knowing Peter's tickle spots had proved useful as a payback method, he was sure yours would too if needed.

Rocket had just touched down on the floor when Peter sheepishly came in to tell you to come into the sitting room because he needed to show you something. Having a feeling it wasn't going to be good, you sighed and followed him, leaving the raccoon behind.

He was dismayed, however, when your only response to seeing the "broken" TV was to just sigh and say flatly, "Well, I hope you enjoy reading then. Like I told you before, I'm not replacing it."

He blinked. "Wait- you're not mad??" This was not the reaction he expected. He was sure you'd yell at him. You yelled at Rocket when he spilled tomato sauce all over the kitchen, surely you would have had a similar reaction now?

You just stare at him. "While I'm frustrated that you can't respect other people's property enough not to break it, I barely use it anymore since I'm always- well, I was almost always gone for work. Soon as you guys leave it'll be the same. No sense in rewarding bad behavior by getting another for you guys to use when I doubt I'll be using it much once you leave."

Peter rolled his eyes and picked up the controller. "Ugh, you're no fun!" he complained, turning off the video and revealing the TV wasn't actually broken.

"Wait, so that was a prank?" You say in realization.

"Well, yeah!" Peter said in frustration. "It was supposed to be!" Honestly, he was hoping you world have been mad. It would have been funny to reveal the lack after you lost it. But no, of course you would have just hit him with some version of "I'm not mad, just disappointed."

"You know, for someone who keeps claiming to be 'the prank master,' your pranks are kinda lame." You grinned at him. Sure, maybe not all his pranks were lame- the broken screen on might have been a good one had he done it to anyone else, but you'd still say they were to annoy him.

"Oh yeah?" Peter said with a mischievous grin before lunging forward to aim a squeeze-y tickle attack on your sides, making you let out a squeak as you jumped back and smacked him out of reflex.

Giggling, you scold him for being a child and turn to head out of the room, only to bump into Kraglin who just said, "Hi there," before tweaking your ribs.

You laugh and push him away, telling them that they played too much before heading upstairs.

The two men watch you leave and then share a grin. Little did you know, the TV had only been Peter's diversion prank. Not the one that finally made you fully resolve to use the food dye on him.

***

To get him back for both the TV prank and the tickle attack you decided to take a thumbtack from your desk and use it to poke a hole in a can of fizzy drink that you knew only you and he really ever drank. You placed the hole near the top so that when he took a drink it would dribble down onto his shirt and then positioned the can in the fridge towards the front so that he'd grab that one first. It was a clear drink, so you were sure it wouldn't stain. You weren't a complete asshole.

This consideration could be considered ironic, considering what you'd do to him that night.

You grinned from your room when you heard him loudly cursing your name sometime later.

To get you back for that he made use of a few pieces of macaroni pasta he found in the pantry. He went upstairs and placed them under the toilet rim so that when you sat down the sound of them crunching would startle you. It wasn't a foolproof plan, but he knew you were reading upstairs, and most everyone else was downstairs, so he rolled the dice that you'd be the next person to use that toilet.

Awhile later he heard you shout his name in frustration from upstairs and he chuckled in victory. And no, this still wasn't the prank that sealed his fate, although that one was currently in progress...

Sometime later you were in your room on your laptop doing some research and contemplating what a suitable prank might be to get Peter back for the macaroni thing when Mantis came into the room to retrieve something. You switch away from the tab you were in researching tunnel maintenance to one you had open of tumblr and offer her a short greeting.

She returned the greeting and went about her business behind you for a couple minutes.

Then, out of the blue, you felt her fingers skitter up your side. You nearly jump out of your skin from both the startle and the ticklish sensation and a startled laugh escaped your throat as you jerked away in your seat and squeaked out a giggly, "Mantis! What are you doing?!"

She stopped tickling and just giggled in response before jogging out of the room.

You stared after her before returning to your work with a shake of your head. 'Awfully playful bunch tonight,' you thought.

***

A bit later you decided to go out back for some fresh air. When you do, you notice Yondu already out there, leant against the stone of the house and just looking at the clouds pass by.

Not wanting to disturb him you just nod in his direction and say, "Hey," before walking by towards the garden. He returns your greeting and leaves you to it. Or so it seemed.

You reach the garden and stand there in the peace and quiet, glancing over the plants for any sign of insect damage. It's not too long, however, before Yondu walks up behind you and shouts, "Boo!"

You jump right out of your skin and turn to face him. You frown, but before you can ask him what the hell that was for, he starts to tickle your stomach. You laugh out a protest, but he only switches to tickling your ribs instead. You laugh some more and latch onto his wrists to push him away and he relents. Residual giggles still coating your words you scold him. "Jeeze! What was that for?!"

Yondu just grins at you like he was privy to some joke you weren't in on, shrugs, and turns to head back inside without explanation.

You watched him go, beginning to wonder what had gotten into everyone.

***

Turned out it would be Drax who would spill the beans on Peter's prank.

You were minding your own business, washing the dish you had just used for your supper, when you are rudely interrupted by Drax spidering his fingers over your ribs, causing you to laugh out loud and drop the dish in the sink. Luckily it didn't break, but you quickly turn off the tap and spun around to scold him and ask what the big deal was.

You knew something was up now. Rocket might have done it on accident. Peter and Kraglin- well, they just routinely did stuff like that to mess with you. Yondu could also fall in the category of "just did it to mess with you." Mantis- she was playful and it wasn't out of the realm of normal for her to randomly decide to do that just to make you laugh.

Drax, however, though friendly, hadn't shown himself to be the type to just randomly up and decide to tickle someone, namely you, without reason, or ever.

And all of them deciding to do it in one afternoon? No. Something was up.

Drax looked almost confused by your annoyance. "Well the note-"

Your eyes narrowed. "What note?"

"The one on your back."

You quickly reach behind you and feel a piece of paper. Peter. You rip it off and look at it, but find you can't read it. It was written in some alien text. "What's this?" you ask Drax.

"It's the note you taped on your back?" He answers, confused.

"I didn't put this there! I can't even read this! What does it say?" You hand it out towards him, but he doesn't take it.

Instead a look of realization comes over his face and he says. "Oh! This must be one of Peter's practical jokes! Haha! That's a good one. No wonder you looked so surprised!"

"Drax-" you say, your tone frustrated.

"What's going on here?" Gamora asked, having just moments prior walked in on the scene. She walked up to the two of you, concerned she might need to stop a fight before it began. You'd never be able to take on Drax, but she could almost see you trying if he made you angry enough.

You thought that maybe she'd be more help. "Could you tell me what this says? Apparently Peter taped it to my back."

Gamora took the paper and read it. Then she rolled her eyes and huffed a short laugh. "This note reads, 'tickle me.'" It was indeed written in Peter's handwriting, but of all the things he could have written, at least this was innocent enough.

You look up to the ceiling, unamused. You meet her gaze again and say, "Thank you, though respectfully, your boyfriend is a brat."

Gamora smiled. "I'm aware."

You then start towards the frontmost doorway of the kitchen, dish forgotten in the sink, and yell, "PETER! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

This was then followed by the sound of Peter laughing, the sound of running footsteps, and then the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut.

You stop in your pursuit. "Coward." you mutter.

You knew you might be able to catch him, but decided there was better things you could do with your time. Like refine your plan of counter-attack. You change course and head upstairs to lie in wait.

Unfortunately for Peter, his running away ended up giving you the perfect opportunity to strike.

***

Peter spent his time outside walking about the property and listening to his Zune, which he luckily had in his pocket when he fled from the house. He was almost surprised you didn't try to track him down, but he brushed it off, satisfied with his prank and how well it had apparently worked/ how long it took you to realize what he'd done.

He knew it was bold to try and get you back with basically the same prank you had just attempted to pull on him, and so that's why he paid Rocket to pretend like he was climbing on you to reach something so he could be the one to plant it on you. You would have absolutely suspected Peter if he came patting a sign on your back right after you had just pulled that prank on him. The other pranks he pulled were mostly just to cover his tracks. And because it was too fun not to pull them.

It was getting dark by the time he came back in and was late enough that everyone else had apparently already gone to bed as no one was downstairs. He was getting pretty tired himself and almost considered skipping showering that night, but decided against it. Big mistake for him.

Once he got upstairs and gathered his things to go shower he headed for the bathroom. Upon getting closer to the door you emerged from the room and seemed to jump back, startled to see him.

Peter snickered. "Did I scare you?"

You roll your eyes and turn towards your room. "No," you answer.

"Uh huh, sure." He grinned smugly.

"Oh, just go wash your stinky ass, already." you call back as you walk towards your room.

Peter gasped in mock-offense. "I'll let you know my 'stinky ass' smells like a pretty flower!" he joked.

You turn back at your doorway and retort with, "A corpse flower, maybe."

Peter scrunches up his face. "That's not a thing. You just made that up!"

"No, it's totally a thing. Look it up," you respond, laughing. You shut your door before he can respond further.

He shakes his head and enters the bathroom, muttering, "That's so not a thing."

***

You stayed up to hear the aftermath, and it didn't take too long.

Maybe ten minutes later you hear Peter curse your name, followed by, "What did you do?!"

You couldn't help yourself. You stand up to go peak out your door, biting your lip to hold back giggles. When you look out you see that Peter is now standing outside the bathroom, and that his outburst had also prompted the others to look out their doors as well. Kraglin was the first to start laughing.

The prank went better than you might have hoped. Peter only had a towel around his waist, allowing you to see that he was stained in an uneven coat of blue. Most of it was around his head, chest, and shoulders. It seemed to get lighter the further down his body it went, but it was more than enough to satisfy you. You hadn't been fully certain it would work.

When Peter didn't come back until after most everyone had gone to bed, you realized you had the perfect opportunity to carry out the prank. You did still have to wait until everyone else had finished showering though. You didn't want anyone get caught in the crossfire.

You waited for the second you heard him come back inside, just in case, and then you made your way into the bathroom with the vial of food gel. You unscrewed the shower head from its hose, squirted the whole vial in the head portion, then carefully screwed it back on. You were sure he'd take his shower before bed like always and felt safe to boobie-trap the shower head now since everyone else had already washed up for bed.

You did see his bottle of shower gel in the bath as you set up the prank and realized in hindsight that you could have just put the food dye in there instead so you wouldn't have needed to time everything so perfectly. On the other hand, you also didn't quite want to ruin his whole bottle of soap, so it was probably best you went for the shower head method instead.

Either way, it didn't disappoint.

You bit back laughter as you said, "Feeling a little... blue, there, Peter?"

He shot a look at you and responded with, "You massive turd! What did you do?!"

You feel Mantis come to look over your shoulder and she starts giggling at the sight of Peter. "Did you play a practical joke?" Mantis asks you. "That's so funny!"

Peter looks like he's about to storm over to you when Drax can be heard saying, "See! I knew Yondu was his father! Quill's finally starting to grow into his color!"

You couldn't tell if Drax was joking or not, but his comment started off a new round of giggles from Mantis, Kraglin, Rocket, and little Groot.

Peter just glared at him.

Yondu was standing next to Kraglin in the doorway of their room looking both contemplative and sleepy.

"Hey, Quill," Yondu said, getting Peter's attention. "Remember how ya rigged those dye packs up in my dresser drawers as a boy? Looks like ya finally got someone to give ya a taste of your own medicine." With that he made a sleepy retreat back to bed. His comment earned a laugh from Gamora, which made Peter pout.

A slight blush over Peter's cheeks appeared violet through the blue dye. He looked at you again and said, "You're so gonna get it!"

This of course prompted you to quickly usher Mantis back so you could shut the door and flick the lock, laughing as you did so.

It was totally worth it.

#gotg #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #starlord #pranks #rocket raccoon #mantis #kraglin obfonteri #drax the destroyer

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