#if you asked me anything about them i’d probably respond with an entire fic

[catsockpuppet]

I really like the gothicpopcorn ramble thing you did!!! i aspire to be able to just.. come up with so much lore for an otp i like and then talk about it freely :')

:33 thank you!!! i think about them a lot so, hehe, theu have a lot of lore

[foreingersgod]

thank you so much for writing all these fics, you are keeping me alive 🥹 was also wondering if you could write a jealous/protective caitlin fic hehe

jealous caitlin? say no more my friend!

Jealous . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

A/N: this picture of her is doing things to me fr

my masterlist

you looked absolutely radiant tonight. of course caitlin thought you looked amazing all the time, but there was something about you tonight that had her utterly consumed by you. so much so that she had hardly left your side all night, tailing at your heels like a lost puppy.

it was an event you had for work, the entire reason you were even out so late. saturday nights at your shared home were typically reserved for takeout and movies and letting caitlin have her way with you if you asked nicely. your girlfriend was reluctant to accept your invite to attend with you, but after seeing the dress you’d picked out for the occasion, she quickly made up her mind. it fit your body just right, hugged all the right places, and overall just made you look out of this world. there were little times where caitlin was left speechless, but seeing you try the gown on for the first time had her at a loss for words. she knew that all eyes would be on you and that she needed to be there to put any wandering eyes in their place. so she rummaged through her closet the night before, looking for a suit that would match your dress.

and now here she was, at this stupid fucking event, regretting her decision. the first hour or so went by delightfully. you had both gotten a glass of champagne and mingled with several of your coworkers. you introduced caitlin to a few of your closer colleagues and even your boss, someone who spoke very highly of you. caitlin loved hearing all the stories they had to tell, loved hearing their high praise towards her girlfriend. but despite all this she was growing increasingly agitated as the night dragged on.

at some point, you pulled caitlin away from the open bar and out into the center of the room. with a hand around her wrist, you began blabbering about wanting her to meet someone and that you were so excited to finally introduce her. she was guided through a sea of people, all of them dressed in the fanciest attire, until you halted at one of the cocktail tables.

“hey, jennifer!” caitlin heard you exclaim, looking past you to see who you were talking to.

a quite beautiful woman stood leaning against the table, her blonde hair pulled back into a slick ponytail and a dark red dress adorned her body. sure, she was attractive, but nobody compared to you in caitlin’s eyes. she was looking down at her phone until she saw you, head snapping up when she heard her name.

“oh my god!” the woman, jennifer apparently, immediately set down her phone and opened her arms to you. you had let go of caitlin’s hand and embraced the blonde with a beaming smile “YN! how are you?”

“i’m so good!” you pulled away, hands finding their way to jennifer’s shoulders. caitlin could already feel her jaw clenching in envy “it’s been so long, it’s great to see you! i was hoping i’d see you tonight-i wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend!”

jennifer tilted her head to the side as caitlin shuffled forward to stand next you. she offered a polite hand out to your friend, trying to rid of the irritation she felt. caitlin didn’t need to talk to her at all to know that she wasn’t going to like her. jennifer took the hand shake, shooting her a tight lipped smile.

“caitlin this is jennifer, my friend from high school and my coworker from the neighboring department” you said “and jennifer this is my girlfriend caitlin”

“it’s nice to meet you” caitlin announced proudly, although in actuality she wasn’t sure if it was nice.

“yea! you too, i’ve heard a lot about you” she responded, eyeing caitlin up and down.

to anyone, the supposed glare probably meant nothing. if anything, she was just looking at caitlin like she would anyone else. but for some reason, caitlin couldn’t shake the feeling that jennifer had something against her. from the moment she embraced you, her nicely manicured nails caressing your back, she could feel her blood boiling.

caitlin wasn’t much of the jealous type. she despised when people tried to hit on you or ask for your number, but she trusted you and knew you’d decline their offer. she would also step in and assert her title as your girlfriend if anyone tried anything with you. but there was something about jennifer that irked caitlin. maybe it was the fact that you were close friends in high school? or maybe it was the way jennifer couldn’t seem to stop fucking touching you as you became engrossed in conversation.

she watched as you and jennifer spent the next hour laughing with each other, not even bothering to notice how caitlin stood silently at your side. she made note of all the things jennifer did that bothered her. how she gripped your bare arm when she laughed at your joke, how she looked at you like a piece of meat, how she twirled her hair around her finger and pushed her exposed cleavage out to you. god she hated this poor excuse of a friend of yours. and she really wanted to be mad at you too, she didn’t like how you weren’t noticing this absurd behavior at all. but she could never stay mad at you, she knew that, and opted for the next best thing-making up an excuse to leave and forcing you out the door.

“baby, can we leave?” caitlin interrupted, leaning into you to murmur against your ear “i wanna go home”

she didn’t miss the way jennifer rolled her eyes, smirking as she looked the other way. it took all caitlin had to not lunge across the table and put the bitch in her place.

“but cait we-”

“i just really need to go home,” her hand snaked around your waist, fingers digging into your side “please?”

you gave her a disappointed look, but bashfully nodded at her in agreement. you turned to jennifer to bid your farewells and to let her know you’d catch up more some other time. you could barely finish waving before caitlin was yanking you back through the crowds and towards the exit. jennifer tried to holler a goodbye in your direction, but the excessive chatter of the venue was far too loud.

“caitlin!” you gasped, bumping shoulders with a stranger from how harsh caitlin was pulling you “what’s gotten into you? what’s going on?”

“i told you. i just need to go home, couldn’t be in there anymore”

a cold wind hit your skin once you reached the exit of the building, the breeze sneaking past the doors as they creaked open. caitlin released you from her grip to search for her keys in her pocket. she marched towards the car, completely disregarding you as she mumbled under her breathe. you could tell it more than ‘just wanting to go home’, caitlin had always toughed things like this out. she despised disappointing people and would rather silently suffer than make a scene and abandon plans all together. so when you stopped in the middle of the parking lot, crossing your arms, and caitlin didn’t even bother to look in your direction? you knew something was on her mind.

“caitlin” you said sternly, not budging from your place in the parking lot.

she noticed the tone in your voice, you didn’t seem to be happy with her. turning on her heels, sneakers scraping against the asphalt, she faced you. although you were a few feet ahead of her and it was near complete darkness outside, she could see the frustrated look on your face.

“what?”

“i need you to tell me what’s really going on” you sauntered towards her to close the space “you don’t act like this. ever. i thought you were having fun, baby? what happened back there?”

even when she was red in the face, bitterness coursing through her veins, she couldn’t help but melt when she got a clear view of you. your hair had become tousled due to the wind and the skirt of your dress fluttered against your legs softly. your nose was slightly red from the chill and your lips turned a deep crimson from how much you were nervously biting them. you looked so beautiful standing here underneath the moonlight and the faint glow from the distant street lamps, it almost made caitlin forget the whole thing all together. but then she remembered how disgusted she was, seeing another woman so blatantly flirt with you, and she was back to being angry.

“honestly, YN, it’s nothing” she shook her head, twirling her keys around her finger, scoffing loudly . she didn’t mean to sound so nasty, but part of her wanted a reaction out of you “i don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but i don’t really like it when people are all over my girlfriend”

“what are you talking about, caitlin?” you let your arms fall back down to your sides, your shoulders slumping.

“you know damn well what i’m talking about”

“i don’t!” you were growing irritated “this came out of nowhere, no one was all over me, babe. i’m confused”

she truly hated taking this out on you, something that was of her own insecurities. you didn’t deserve to be scolded for something you actually didn’t do. but the slight thought of jennifer kept creeping into her mind and she couldn’t help but grow more and more upset.

“don’t act like you don’t know, like jennifer or whatever her name was isn’t totally into you! like she wasn’t practically flirting with you while i was standing right there?”

you were left dumbfounded. your jaw slacked slightly, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“that’s what this is about? you’re upset about jennifer?”

caitlin looked away from you, looking at anything but your eyes. she knew she’d made a mistake by saying anything and how she was going to face the consequences.

“cait,” you let out a baffled laugh, a small grin working its way onto one side of your mouth “please don’t tell me you’re jealous”

“m’not jealous,” she denied “i don’t get jealous”

“oh really? so what would you call this then?”

“am i not allowed to be mad when someone’s trying to hit on my girlfriend?”

you could see the embarrassed blush spread throughout caitlin’s face. she still couldn’t look you in the eye, bouncing her foot anxiously as her slender fingers rubbed at her temples in annoyance. it was all making sense to you now. during your relationship, you noticed that caitlin was really never that jealous. you knew she would get irritated with people or annoyed when someone hit on you, but for the most part, she was able to brush it off. she trusted you so much and she wouldn’t consider half of those people a threat. but it had clicked in your mind that this time was different. the closeness that you and jennifer shared made all of caitlin’s suppressed jealousy surface. she didn’t like that jennifer knew so much about you or that she was particularly touchy with you…because those were things reserved for caitlin and only caitlin.

“you are…but baby,” you had finally reached her, hands wandering from her biceps to her shoulders, thumbs rubbing against the fabric of her blazer soothingly “it’s ok to be jealous”

“i told y-”

“i think it’s really attractive, actually” you hummed, leaning into her ear just as she had earlier. before she could get another word in, her breathe mellowed out. her muscles relaxed under your touch, gulping deeply as she tried to mutter a response.

“you do?”

“mhm” your hands travels up her shoulders, gracing her neck until they reached her face. your fingers traced against her pronounced cheekbones, studying the faint freckles and textures of her skin “i like it when you get protective over me, it’s sweet”

she let out a conflicted sigh, finally looking at you “im sorry…i shouldn’t have made you leave your party just because i was…i was jealous”

“it’s ok, cait” you smiled, happy to hear her actually admit it “but if you’re really sorry…”

she quirked an eyebrow at you, watching as you stepped away from her. you grabbed her hand and pulled her with you as you guided her towards the car. the way your hips swayed had caitlin in a trance.

“…you’re gonna take me home and do things to me that jennifer never could”

now it was her turn to be shocked, practically drooling as you smiled smugly over your shoulder. her tongue prodded against the inside of her cheek, suppressing a guttural moan. your contagious laugh echoed through the half empty parking lot when you felt her touch the plushness of your ass, gripping tightly as you walked the rest of the way to the car.

oh the things you did to her…

maybe being jealous wasn’t so bad.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

taglist:

@idiotsnake @girlokwhatever @uraesthete @katemartinsimp @rimunagenius @patscorner @julienbakerloverr @sunfairy-world @anakinsmakingmeweak @barbacoas-stuff @0alessia0 @kc88888888 @kinfluenza @lacyspeaks @pbueckerslover @pbloverr

[chiropter36]

Uuuurgh okay so I’m working on a follow-up to “three or more foxes form a skulk” and it’s slow-going but it IS going… and then a few nights ago as I’m laying in bed, an entire freakin’ scene forms in my head, and it’s NOT a part of what I’m working on and CAN’T be because it involves both Nine and Knucks being at a point character-development-wise that they won’t be at until AFTER that… but the scene won’t get out of my head so I’ve decided to write down a bare-bones version and hopefully this’ll satisfy my brain and I can get back to the fic I’ve actually committed to finishing.

So yada yada sometime after “three or more foxes”, something something the chaos council returns/some other threat happens, something something Nine and Knucks get split off from the others and have to take shelter somewhere, they’re out of immediate danger but are going to have to stay put for a while, whatever structure they’re hiding in gives a view of the night sky, blah blah they’ve settled in and taken care of all the practical stuff and are now sitting in half-awkward half-comfortable silence, ’cause like they’re basically friends by this point but obviously haven’t done anything silly like say that to the other’s face, then…

Knucks, staring at the night sky: “Y’know, there was a time I doubted I’d ever get to see the stars again.”

Nine is surprised and not sure how/if to respond to that, so just quietly listens as Knucks continues talking, in a tone like he’s only half-aware he’s speaking out loud, reminiscing about how his mother used to tell him old echidna stories about warriors and adventurers and beasts that were immortalized in the stars; and how even after she died when he was still young, he kept the habit most nights of picking out all the constellations she had shown him and reciting her stories in his head.

He’s quiet for a bit after this, and the Nine of only a few months previous would have easily just left it at that, but now surprises himself when he suddenly finds himself whispering:

Nine: “’Least you knew yours.”

Knucks starts, as though just remembering Nine was there, and frowns. Even though Nine has become MUCH more open with him and Rebel and the others in the months since their return to the city, it’s still very unlike him to volunteer information about his past unprompted, and this is uncharted territory for both of them.

Nine doesn’t elaborate, so after a moment Knucks tentatively decides to test the waters.

Knucks: “You ever… have anyone else? A dad, or grandparent or somethin’?”

Silence, then a single quick headshake, the minimal amount of movement to convey the answer. No elaboration seems forthcoming, and Knucks assumes the conversation is over, but then a quiet sigh reaches his ears, and:

Nine: “All I know is at least one of them was around long enough to give me a name – which I don’t use anymore, so don’t ask – then at some point left me at a group home and never came back.”

Slight pause, then he continues:

Nine: “I assume it was ‘cause of... well, the obvious…” – he parts his mechanical tails and gives the two furry ones a little wave – “But I don’t actually know for sure. The caretakers always got annoyed at me when I asked about them. Well, when I asked questions in general, but they seemed to get especially snippy on that subject. Probably mad that my parents saddled them with me, whatever their reasons. Anyway, I learned pretty quick to stop caring.”

He shrugs, trying to affect an unconcerned vibe.

Another stretch of silence as Knucks digests this information. Before he can figure out a response, Nine speaks up again:

Nine: “So… did you have a dad around? You mentioned your mom, but…”

So Knucks thinks, well, apparently we’re doing this now, and tells him that yeah, he has some memories of his father, playing with him as a puggle or smiling down at him in his mother’s pouch… but the pleasant memories are few and too soon he reaches the point where he either stops talking or delves into why all this is in past tense.

For some reason, he feels like he has to push forward in this right now.

Knucks: “I was about four or so… some bandit crew attacked the village we were stayin’ at. Pop went out to fight ’em, but they were apparently pretty tough an’ outnumbered him, so Ma left me with some friends and went to help. In the end, they fought ’em off an’ saved the village, but… Ma was the only one who came back.

“An’ she didn’t get out unscathed. One of the bandits was a platypus, see, an’ during the fight he got her with his spurs. Didn’t kill her – there were some other platypuses in the village who had some antivenom on hand – but… it did some lasting damage. So a year or so later, when she got sick...”

A brief glance at Nine tells him he doesn’t have to finish.

Another stretch of silence. Then, Nine’s voice, barely a whisper:

Nine: “Sorry.”

Knucks stares for a moment at the fox kid he once saw as nothing more than a villain to be taken down. He looks back up at the stars, his reply gruff but just as quiet.

Knucks: “Is what it is.”

Pause.

Knucks: “But for the record… same.”

Nine stares for a moment at the echidna he once saw as nothing but an aggravating foe trying to stop him from making his perfect world.

He mulls things over for another stretch of silence.

Nine: “So, I only really know about constellations in concept… What are some of them? The ones your mom told you.”

Knucks: *quiet, sad sigh* “That’s the thing… I don’t remember ’em anymore.”

He goes on to explain that when he and Rebel were trying to get the rebellion off the ground, he’d used to look up at the ceiling of whatever place they were hiding out in that night, and imagine the night sky and try to keep doing what he’d always done, pick out the constellations and tell himself his mother’s stories… but the day to day grind of life under the Chaos Council’s regime got harder, and he had more important responsibilities than making sure he kept up a childhood habit…

Knucks: “Didn’t even realize I’d fallen outta the habit, until the skies finally cleared up – thanks to your tech an’ all – and I looked up, and… I still couldn’t see any of ’em.”

And he’s sad, but also apparently just resigned to the notion that the last of his people’s stories have been lost forever because he couldn’t keep them in his head. The conversation appears to end on that depressing note…

Nine: “I think I… kinda see some kind of warrior-type figure there?” He points at a group of stars. “See, those four stars in a line, could kind of be a sword, then… I mean, if we’re being extremely generous, that cluster there could be a person wielding it or something…”

And Nine’s fumbling but genuine attempts to invent new constellations brings a small smile to Knucks’s face, and he starts joining in, and lightheartedly ribbing Nine’s ideas which gets him snarking back, and shooting ideas back and forth for stories behind the new constellations, and the scene ends with Nine sleeping comfortably with a slight smile on his face, as Knucks keeps watch, looking up at the stars with a less somber feeling in his heart than had been there since the sky had cleared.

---

Okay that’s all I got. Go, plot bunny, be free! I love you but I just need you to leave me alone for a bit.

[tj-is-down]

Squire Squabble (pt. 1) Podrick Payne x reader

So, I wrote this fic in 2022 and it's been sitting in my Google Docs ever since. Enjoy it! There's a Part Two that I'll probably post tomorrow.

Summary: Pod and Brienne meet one of Brienne's old acquaintances while traveling, and Pod does not get along with the man's squire.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, maybe? I can't remember. But I know that's really it. Also, most of my fics are gender neutral, but this one is written with a feminine reader in mind. Sorry!

Pod and Brienne sit in a tavern at nightfall. Pod is eating quickly and hungrily, having not eaten anything since the day prior. His fault, really, messing up the fire and forgetting to skin the rabbit and--well, it’s best not to get into it all. Brienne, he notices, isn’t eating, despite having eaten the same amount as he has in the last twenty-four hours, which is none.

“Are you not going to eat, my lady?” He asks, mouth full of food.

Brienne doesn’t answer, instead continuing to glare in the direction of another table behind Podrick. He goes to turn his head, but is stopped by Brienne.

“Don’t you dare,” she grunts, freezing him in motion.

He slowly turns back to face her. “What are you looking at?”

“Not what,” Brienne clarifies, “who. In this case, Ser Carac McLane of Tarth.”

Pod waits for her to continue, confused. “Who?”

“We grew up together,” Brienne says, “and he tormented me every day of my life. Everything I did, he had to be better. Learned to fight before me--because he’s a man, of course--and he’s never let me live it down. He thinks that age somehow triumphs over experience and skill--two things I have, and he doesn’t. He’s arrogant, ignorant, and classless. And that’s not the half of it.”

“How long has it been since you’ve last seen each other?” Pod asks, taking another bite. “Perhaps he’s changed, or--”

“People like him aren’t ones who change, Podrick,” Brienne interrupts. Her face suddenly drops. “Shit. He’s walking over. Stop eating, and sit up straight. Don’t give him any reason to critique you. Podrick, I said stop eating!”

How am I supposed to swallow this if I can’t chew? Pod thinks, yet he doesn’t have another second to resolve his issue before they are approached by Ser Carac, along with a younger individual about the same age as Pod.

Brienne stiffens, moving to stand up, but Ser Carac waves her off. “No need for formalities, Brienne of Tarth. We’re past that by now, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so, Ser Carac of Tarth,” Brienne responds. “This is my squire, Podrick Payne.” She gestures to Pod, who nods his head, mouth still full of food. Ser Carac nods in his direction, yet his companion doesn’t, instead choosing to half-smirk at him, seeing right through his facade. He glares back at them, trying to be as menacing as possible. He realizes, however, that it’s entirely useless, as he looks like a chipmunk with his mouth full of food.

“You’ve a squire now?” Ser Carac asks incredulously. “I never thought I’d see the day you reached such a high rank. This is Y/N, my squire.”

 “What brings you to this area?” Brienne asks. “I’d have thought you were retired, old as you are.”

“Might I remind you, I’m not much older than you,” Carac states.

“Your lack of hair could’ve fooled me,” Brienne replies. Podrick nearly spits out his food holding back a laugh. He’ll have to commend Brienne for that later.

Both Carac and Y/N look over at him, Y/N shooting daggers at him. Carac, however, seems to ignore it, instead turning back to Brienne.

“Well, as much as it was a pleasure seeing you, we must be off.”

“Don’t choke, Podrick,” Y/N says,harshly patting him on the back before turning to walk away. Pod starts coughing, the food getting stuck in his throat. He quickly gulps from his cup and turns back to glare at Y/N. They’re looking over their shoulder at him, half-smirking. 

Pod decides at this moment that he dislikes them. Immensely.

“Told you,” Brienne says.

* * *

Pod and Brienne are long beyond the tavern now, about a day’s journey out. The sun is concluding its descent, and the two have decided to stop for the night, when they see the faint orange glow of a fire coming through the trees.

“Should we see about that up there?” Pod asks.

“Well, seeing as you can’t start a fire for shit, there’s no harm in joining those who already have one going, is there?” Brienne replies.

Apparently there was harm in joining those who already have a fire, since those happened to be Ser Carac and Y/N, who seem to have just begun to make camp.

“Lady Brienne, what a surprise!” Ser Carac says, although he seems more annoyed than surprised. “I didn’t know you were going this way. We could have traveled together. Although, I know how much you enjoy your beauty sleep, despite its lack of effect. I, on the other hand, wake up with the sun.”

Brienne rolls her eyes, ignoring his comment. “Would you mind if we joined you, Ser Carac? I would hate to intrude.”

“Too late for that,” Carac mutters. “But since you’re here, please, join us.”

Pod and Brienne dismount their horses, tying them up to a couple of nearby trees. Y/N stares at them as they do so, eyes following their movements. “Lady Brienne,” they say, nodding their head. “Podrick,” they add, suddenly stone cold and straight faced.

He doesn’t reply, instead taking a seat across from them by the fire.

After an hour or so, Carac speaks up. “I’m getting tired. Y/N, Podrick, make up our tents, won’t you?”

The two nod, getting up to do as he says.

They walk a short ways away from the fire, making sure they’re within eyesight but far enough away that they’re hidden if anyone sees the fire from afar and comes to attack them. Now that night’s fallen, it’s too cold to be without fire, regardless of the dangers. Pod and Y/N work silently, a wordless agreement that despite their dislike for each other, putting the tents up together is much faster than doing it alone. They put the first two up effortlessly, but when it comes to the third, things all come crashing down--literally.

Pod pulls a piece of fabric from the pile at the same time as Y/N, who then attempts to take it away from him. He pulls it back towards himself and Y/N does the same, resulting in a competition tug-of-war. After a moment, they hear the sound of the fabric tearing, and sure enough, the cover is ripped in half.

“You ripped the tent,” Y/N shouts, angry and nervous at the same time. “And now I’m going to have to answer for it.”

“That’s because it’s your fault,” Pod retorts. “You pulled too hard on the cloth, not me.”

Y/N scoffs. “Are you joking? You’re the one who pulled too hard. And I don’t appreciate--”

Pod speaks up, interrupting. “Now, that is not true, and I don’t appreciate--”

Before long, the two are in a brawl, shouting over one another and shooting daggers with their eyes.

“What’s going on here?” Brienne says as she and Ser Carac approach the pair.

“Your squire ripped the tent,” Y/N and Pod say to Brienne and Carac at the same time. They glare at each other at the realization.

“We’ve lost a tent?” Brianne asks rhetorically. “Well, I’m not sleeping on the ground. Are you, Ser Carac?”

He shakes his head. “I am not.”

“Well, then. That settles it.”

“I’m not sleeping on the bare ground,” Y/N says, turning to Pod and crossing their arms. “Be a good squire, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” Pod laughs. “You’re the one who ripped the tent, you should be sleeping on the ground.”

“You can’t be serious, I--”

“Both of you, sleep in the tent,” Ser Carac interrupts. “Or you can both sleep on the ground.”

At the sight of their faces, Brienne smirks. “And we don’t want to hear another word from either of you about it. That’s an order, Podrick.”

“You too, Y/N,” Ser Carac adds. With that, the two disappear into their tents.

“Since when did those two get along?” Y/N mumbles, staring after them, while Pod starts gathering the leftover materials for the last tent. He gets a fair bit through before catching Y/N’s attention.

“What are you doing?” They whisper to him, careful not to get the attention of either Brienne or Carac.

“What does it look like? I’m making up the tent.”

Y/N shrugs. “Have fun. I’m sleeping out here.”

“No, you’re not. You heard them, Y/N. Either we both sleep out here or we both sleep in there. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather a roof over my head, however thin.”

“I don’t care what orders we have, Podrick. I’m not sharing a tent with you, and I’d rather lose my hand like Jaime Lannister than sleep next to you out here.”

“Lucky for you, that can be arranged,” Pod grumbles. “Now, I’m serious Y/N. Come on. I’m not getting in trouble because you’ve decided to be a spoiled princess about this.”

“A princess? Me? Please. If anyone here’s acting that way, it’s you. Why does it matter where I sleep?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“No.”

Pod rolls his eyes before continuing. “We’ve been given orders, Y/N.” He grabs their arm and tries to pull them toward the tent. “Come on.”

Y/N pulls back. “No.”

“Y/N, please, I won’t do this all night--”

He pulls harder, but Y/N loses their footing and falls onto him, toppling into the tent.

For a minute Y/N is frozen on top of him, shocked at the quick change in position from standing up to laying down. They feel the warmth of his breath on their face, and his eyes flicker quickly to their mouth before meeting their eyes again.

“All right, Princess,” he says, slowly rolling Y/N off of him. “Off you go.”

“What did I tell you about that nickname?” They reply, exasperated.

“When are you going to realize that it doesn’t matter to me what you tell me?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You might think you’re royalty, but you aren’t. You’re a squire, just like me.”

“Believe me, I’m nothing like you.”

“Thank the gods. Now, go to sleep, will you? I’m tired.”

* * *

Pod is still awake a while later, though he’s not sure how much time has passed. Y/N shakes and stirs, clearly attempting to not make a sound. They are unsuccessful.

“You’re keeping me up,” Pod says monotonously. “Go to bed.”

“I’m cold,” they say, and Pod hears them turning to the other direction. The two are facing outward, away from each other, about a foot apart. There isn’t much space for anything more than that, since the tent is so small. The temperature has dropped drastically in the night, and although Pod has a coat, he can still feel a chill in the air.

“Aren’t you from the North?” Pod asks.

“So? I’ve not a coat, Podrick. A wolf would be cold in this weather.”

“Well, I’m not giving you my furs,” he grunts. “Then I’ll be cold.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Y/N continues to toss and turn, not caring whether or not they keep Pod awake. Why must they make him suffer just because they are?

After a moment Pod lets out an irritated sigh, and shuffles over. At the feeling of his body behind theirs, Y/N stiffens.

“What are you doing?” They ask him.

“Getting you warm. I need sleep, Y/N, and I won’t very well get that with you moving around every ten seconds. Now, come on, move closer.”

They wait a moment, he assumes in order to process his words. He’s not gotten along with Y/N since their meeting the day before, and he knows they’d rather not give in to anything he says or asks, but at this point he also knows they’re too tired and cold to care. They scoot backwards a half an inch, seemingly satisfied with the positioning as Pod wraps an arm around them. He tries to keep his face away from theirs, but eventually gives up and rests it in the crook of their neck.

“This means nothing,” Y/N asserts, stating matter-of-factly.

Pod doesn’t buy it, though. He feels their heart beating and their breath evening, giving away the comfort and ease they feel in the position you two are in. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

“I hate that nickname. And I really hate you.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Ooooh really excited about the new emojis&fics!! hope ive got the right ones here:

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

sending good vibes your way along with the emojis, and keep up the good work!!

- feather

Hi Feather! Thank you so very much!!!!

39 for 🔼:

---

Shannon wraps an arm around him and kisses his head. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay,” she pants. “We’re both safe. We’re going to be fine.”

Buck feels a wash of relief, watching Shannon comfort her son. He did it. He saved them. They will be safe, as long as they stay on that roof. Whatever happens from here, Buck kept them - all three of them - safe. He did his job. 

Buck exhales heavily. Just as he does, the Jeep lurches. Buck stumbles.

“BUCK!” He hears Shannon shriek as he slips and topples off the Jeep into the water. 

▶️

It’s one thing to be working as a first responder when a fucking tsunami hits Santa Monica. It’s another to know that your child, kind of ex-wife and the child she’s carrying, and best friend are out there. Driving around in it. And if that all sucks, try hearing that all those people - the most important three people in your entire world - have in fact been hit by the fucking wave.

“I need you to stay calm,” Bobby says sternly as he explains the situation to Eddie. “I’ve just heard from Dispatch…”

Eddie goes numb. He listens, but it’s like his ears don’t work. They’re ringing. They’re as loud as he imagines the wave is, drowning out Bobby’s words. There are a million alarms blaring in his brain. The whole of his fucking heart is in danger. All of them at once. Like someone has carpet bombed his fucking soul. 

“We’re going after them, Eddie,” Bobby promises. “But I need you to follow the chain of command and keep your cool.”

Eddie can do that. Eddie knows how. He’s not Buck, after all. He can scream, completely internally. He can fall apart, and still soldier on. 

“Whatever you say,” Eddie tells him. 

“Then let’s go.”

---

39 for ❄️:

---

“Then maybe you should say something.”

“I’m probably just being overly sensitive,” Buck shrugs. “He doesn’t mean anything by it, right?”

“I don’t think he does,” Eddie agrees. “But still. If you feel bad, then he should change the way he’s talking to you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Buck mutters. He takes a sip of beer.

Eddie gets the feeling he’s not actually going to address it with Tommy. 

He should be happy, maybe. There’s an inherent incompatibility there. A softness about Buck that needs the right person to cherish it. Tommy isn’t that person. Eddie wants to be that person. Eventually. He thinks he’d be better suited to it. But he’s not happy. This isn’t what Buck deserves, even in the meantime. 

“You deserve the kind of person who cares about how the way they talk makes you feel,” Eddie says.

Buck’s cheeks redden a little. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. 

“I’m serious,” Eddie says sternly.  

Buck turns to look at him. Eddie can’t quite read the look in his eyes. 

“Thanks,” he mutters eventually. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You’d better.”

vi.

The summer drags on. Buck stays with Tommy. Christopher stays in Texas. Stays silent. Gerrard stays at the 118. Eddie stays in therapy, both types. 

More importantly, he stays in frequent contact with Charlie. Which somehow becomes the biggest source of positivity in his very dreary life. They talk all the time. First, by email. Then, by text. And eventually, they take to video calls outside of therapy sessions. 

---

39 for 🪞:

---

“I don’t feel like we’re at the stage where I should be making big life decisions based on what you think of them,” Buck says honestly. “I-I mean I’d like for us to get there, but-”

“I don’t think so,” Tommy cuts him off.

“Uh, what?” Buck asks. 

“I don’t think we’ll get there, Evan,” Tommy clarifies. “Not if you’re doing this without even consulting me.”

And Buck supposes he knew this was a risk. Didn’t he? 

“Is that an ultimatum?” Buck asks.

“I guess it is,” Tommy replies. “I’ve never wanted children.”

“I’m not asking you to be her dad,” Buck says.

“Aren’t you?” Tommy rebuts. “Asking me to play stepdad?”

Those words settle over Buck like a vat of acid.

“I’m not asking you to play at anything, Tommy,” he says lowly. “I’m telling you what’s happening in my life. If you don’t want to be a part of it, that’s completely fine.”

It is. He realizes. It is completely fine. Buck knows the difference between needs and wants. He needs to be able to sleep at night, knowing he did what he could for this kid. He wants a partner. The priority level is clear. 

He walks himself out a few minutes later and drives to Eddie’s. 

▪️▪️▪️

“Sorry, man,” Eddie says quietly. “That’s a bummer.”

“I should probably find someone else to vent to,” Buck admits. “He’s your friend.”

“Mm, not really. If he thought we’d try to replace my son.” 

“Yeah,” Buck groans. “I can’t believe he said that.”

“Me neither,” Eddie agrees.

[loquarocoeur]

Hey lovely! I’m back w another anon, at this point I’ll put an emoji so you know it’s the same person saying hi bc I’m not sending this on my blog name but ashshsjsh.

The asks and your responses on the spanking shit have me wanting to send this ask that I’ve been thinking about, but like. After the end of ‘pushing buttons’ I rlly enjoyed the bit where charles was almost insecure, and max responded the way he did so beautifully about how he loves charles the most bc he’s charles and what about it him he finds so loving and hot and how he was mentioning Charles’s pleasure too and that just. Really made me want to have a fic perhaps on the doms pleasure a bit. Not entirely but if you’d want to I’d love for you to get into charles head and thoughts a bit. It’s hard to explain what I mean because I’m being vague bc I’m embarrassed enough typing this as is lmfao but I hope you kinda get what I mean here? How you were talking about charles headspace in the other ask and everything I just got very Inchrested

I just love this verse and the way you write and maybe I die everytime I see another blog post of yours about some smutty shit! Maybe!

- 🦢 (I’ll make myself the swan emoji anon bc why the fuck not. Hi it’s me I sent the asks like max speaking Italian for maybe one line perfectly and made the suggestion about the ‘monza fic having the hotel tifosi chanting. Idk I just wanted to lyk it was me ahahshsjjs)

Okay hi, hello, I'm here with my thoughts now and absolutely YES, prepare for an essay:

Like idk, I've been meaning and trying to get into Charles' head a bit more since forever, but it is just quite hard nailing him down, he's just a very complex character nowadays with that duality between his 'dom persona' I guess and then absolute golden retriever, head over heels, bend over backwards, and jump when Max says jump sweetheart he is outside of that headspace

It's just there's just so many things from Charles' perspective to think of, you know, specifically talking about sex scenes now:

Like, okay, first of all, he's just a man, Max barely needs to take off his shirt. Like he's absolutely insatiable, he goes insane for a glimpse of Max's stomach, the only time he won't even try to start anything in the shower is if he got an orgasm five minutes ago, so obviously there's the aspect that he just thinks Max is fucking hot, just looking at Max does it for him, and also men are men, it feels good getting their dicks wet I guess

But then there's also obviously the thing that we don't talk about enough in fandom and that's that doms like being dominant just as much as subs like being submissive

And you know it's hard to nail it down and elucidate it, because we don't have enough examples for it, because (and this is also totally fine of course) fandom is just usually very focused on the perspective of more submissive people for probably many reasons which we won't get into rn, but the point is like you have to make this shit up as you go, there's not a script and an easy how-to like there is for writing submissive perspectives because we've all read thousands of those of course

Because like obviously Max technically has as much if not more control over the situation as Charles does with safewords and all, but Charles obviously LIKES being or feeling in control

There's kind of this underlying societal belief that we often get where it's just perceived as inherently bad when someone wants or likes to be in control or in a position of power, which is why I feel we hear the dom perspective waaay less than the sub one, because ironically, the doms are too shy to speak up I guess lol

But you know Charles obviously likes that he can tell Max what to do and he does it, he likes how Max, just as a person, is quite dominant in the way he behaves, he's not a follower, when someone says sit down Max asks why, and he's no different with Charles when they're just them and there's no dom/subness going on, but he likes how when they're in that space and Charles says sit down Max sits the fuck down

And then I think the thing I always emphasized most is how Charles just gets off on seeing Max feel good, like he gets off on making Max feel so good he loses all function, and that comes back to Charles having just as much of a praise kink as Max, but he doesn't need Max to tell him he's doing good, he needs to see it

And then it's just how do I fit all this in and consolidate it with the way that of course, Charles is far from quiet or reserved during sex, he won't shut up actually, but there's these times when, from Max's perspective, you have no idea what's going on in his head, because he has this talent for just turning his face blank

And don't think I as the author somehow know any more than you do when it comes to Max's perspective like guys idk either, I was just there

But yes, I do hope to elaborate on it a bit more in the future🥰❤️❤️❤️

[acacia-may]

You asked me, now I asked you, 2, 9 and 22 💘

Thank you so much for the ask, friend, and for playing this writing ask game! I'd be thrilled to answer your ask and share some excerpts with you. 🥰

2. An excerpt of my writing that makes me laugh

I'll admit that I am always so nervous whenever I try to write anything humorous. I feel like I have an odd and often dry sense of humor so I really worry my jokes aren't going to land in my writing. That said, I really love dramatic irony used for comedic effect. For instance this joke from one of my Fairy Tail fics, "The Jam Problem," always makes me laugh:

“There’s nothing wrong with being smitten with Rita and wanting to go on a date, Yuri,” chimed in Mavis with a reassuring smile. “I’d like to go on a date too someday.” She paused and a somewhat dreamy sigh she had not been intending accidentally tumbled out of her mouth as she added, “With Zeref.”   Yuri’s brow furrowed at her, and he turned back to a somewhat concerned Precht and Warrod. “Are we ever going to do something about Mavis’s ‘Zeref Problem’?”  “I think it’s just a phase,” reassured Warrod with a thoughtful nod.  “She’ll probably grow out of it before anything bad happens," Precht agreed.

I also really love situational comedy, cheeky bantering, and snarky one-liners (which might be one of the reasons I love writing Charmy so much). Here's one of my favorite Charmy jokes from my Black Clover fic "Pancakes For Dinner"

“For you, Miss Charmy, I would do anything,” Rill said with a bright beaming smile before taking off to, Charmy was certain, conspicuously watch Finral. “Awww…” teased Vanessa draping her arm around Charmy’s shoulders causing her cheeks to flush a little. “He’s so cute!” “You say that, la,” sighed Charmy. “But he’s never painted a life-sized portrait of you as a ‘food goddess’…”

9. An excerpt of my writing with characters I love

Here's a snippet from one of my favorite fics from my Early Black Bulls series, "A Bird In The Rain" (which I apologize is only on AO3 but I'll still link it). The friendship between young Yami, Gordon, Finral, and Vanessa is one of my favorites in the whole series, and I don't think it's talked about nearly enough.

“I’m back,” declared Finral appearing in a portal beside Yami as the rain began to pour. “Great, now hurry up and get us out of here before we get soaked,” he huffed, but Finral wasn’t even looking at him. Yami’s brow furrowed, and he glared at him in irritation. With eyes that wide and that tint of pink in his cheeks, he knew exactly what—or rather who—Finral was staring at. “You wanna pick your jaw off the ground and get us out of here?” he quipped, but Finral didn’t respond. Yami rolled his eyes. “Damn it, Finral, will you stop staring at the poor girl already?” “She’s so…” Finral almost gasped quietly, but his voice trailed. Yami blustered but finally whipped towards Vanessa to see what all the fuss was about. If he was being honest, even he was rendered a little bit speechless. Vanessa had both arms flung out widely at her sides as if catching the rain that gushed down from the storm clouds above. Though she was getting completely soaked, she had tilted her head all the way back towards the sky, wearing the widest, brightest smile Yami had ever seen in his entire life. Now, he knew of course that Vanessa was a generally cheerful person who smiled more than most, and he had seen her excited over the most random and everyday things before—but he had never seen her this happy. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen anyone this happy. There was something almost mesmerizing, almost beautiful, about her joy, and even Yami had to admit it was breathtaking. Vanessa must have sensed that they were all staring at her because she turned towards them and her face turned bright red. She sheepishly shuffled her feet. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I’ve never been caught in the rain before…” Her voice trailed, and something panged in Yami’s chest—a cross between a deep, almost aching sadness and a vindictive desire to rough up the Queen of Witches. “Were you waiting on me?” Vanessa added quickly, almost guiltily. “Uh…um…” Finral choked as his face flushed, but he seemed too awestruck for words—not that Yami could really blame him as he himself was having some trouble formulating a response. Not even Gordon was mumbling. Vanessa’s blush deepened. “And now you’re all soaked…”

22. An excerpt of my writing that is so blissfully self-indulgent

Thank you so much for this!! Please enjoy some Uncle Langris and Dad Finral from my "Birthday Buddies" fic 🥺💖

“Langris?” a voice whispered. His eyes fluttered open. How long had he been asleep? he wondered. “Langris?”  “What?” he mumbled. Groggily, he turned towards his brother who was positively beaming at him with tears of joy in his eyes. “Do you want to meet your nephew?”  This question shook Langris awake as he focused intently on the small bundle in Finral’s arms. Langris’ face softened, and he nodded as Finral handed him the baby and explained with the pride and excitement of new father, “This is Kalon.”  “Hi Kalon,” whispered Langris, trying and failing to keep a serious face as he stared down at his nephew. He looked so small wrapped in his quilt, but he wriggled and squirmed before nestling into Langris’ arms and smiling in his sleep—his button nose wrinkling and his arms stretching out from the blanket as his tiny fingers extended as if he was reaching out for him. Langris held out his own finger to the baby—letting him wrap his little hand around it. “He looks like you,” he whispered, and Finral nodded but smiled with pride, happy tears glistening in his eyes again. “So I’ve been told…” 

I just love when my boys get along with each other, okay? 💚💙

[altschmerzes]

Submitting a formal request for anything 2 Aces when you want to share :) :)

i will positively leap upon the opportunity

from loneliness into loneliness, my queerplatonic jamie + dani fic, a part of the scene that's the first time they sleep in dani's bed together. picks up right after jamie's offered to stay with him, in the hopes of keeping him from rolling onto his injured shoulder. this sequence is me like. we are going to lean HARD into This Is About Longing, About Pining (Platonic) For Someone.

--

Dani’s eyes widen as he processes the words and Jamie is briefly and intensely convinced that he’s just fucked up on an enormous level. He’s about to backpedal, beat a swift retreat from the room and possibly leave the house entirely, but before he can so much as grab his crutches, Dani is responding.

“You’d do that for me?” The corners of his warm, dark eyes crinkle softly, his head tipping slowly to the other direction. There’s something fond and a little awed in his expression, and Jamie can’t bear to look at it for long.

He shrugs one shoulder and looks down.

“I mean, yeah, it’s… ‘Course I would.” Jamie feels a little bad, maybe more than a little guilty, because this isn’t exactly the generous offer that Dani seems to think it is. It’s more like he’s asking for something for himself and making it sound like he was doing Dani a favour, which is probably even more selfish than just asking for something in the first place. Like- It is for Dani, right, Jamie really does want to keep him from rolling onto his bad shoulder if he can, but…

Just the hallway. That’s all the space that had separated them, two rooms across a hallway, and it had felt like they were worlds away. Jamie had closed his eyes and imagined it: how it would feel to slip out of bed and across the hall, get under the covers next to Dani and sleep there instead. He’d been embarrassed of himself immediately, but what nobody knew he was thinking about couldn’t hurt anyone, and so he’d imagined it until he could practically feel the warmth of another body beside his. And now here, sitting on Dani’s bed, so close to what he’d been imagining that his skin seems to ache at the thought… Jamie is a good liar, but even he ain’t a good enough liar to convince himself the offer is all or even almost all for Dani’s sake.

The chance to sleep next to someone that he’s close to, sleep holding someone that he’s close to? Jamie has to take any opportunity he might get to do that. The last time he had been consistently able to, he had been dating Keeley. There hasn’t been anyone since her, not beyond a fling for a night or two, and not even that for a while.

“I mean, I think that, if it’s… you know, if you think it’d help, yeah. Course I’d do that.” Jamie takes a deep breath, shrugs that same shoulder again, and makes himself say at least a little bit of the truth. “It’s nice. To- You know. It’s nice.”

“I understand, Dani says, nodding like he really does. “I don’t like sleeping alone.” He says it so directly, like there isn’t nothing wrong with it, and when Jamie hears it in Dani’s voice it’s hard to believe it’s any kind of character flaw like it seems when he feels it in himself. Dani laughs in a brief, humourless huff of breath. “I mean, I do not really like being alone at all, and lately… Lately I have been alone very often. So yes, if you want to, I would very much like it if you slept here with me.”

The touch of a hand reaching out and grabbing his makes Jamie look up, meet Dani’s eyes. Dani’s fingers tighten in a brief squeeze.

“I think it would help in more ways than one,” Dani says, and Jamie nods.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Think it would, yeah.” It’s the closest he can get to admitting to the ache in his skin, the way he’s hated sleeping in the guest room because it was so close but so far away from where Dani was sleeping, just across the hall.

[livwritesstuff]

can i ask where you get your inspo for your joanie munson series? i want to write more fics for emma but i dont really have, to put it lightly, good childhood memories or experiences so im not really sure how to make them realistic or "cute"

hello hello

not sure if this was meant for @shares-a-vest bc miss joanie munson is their oc (and such a lovely one, might i add, i love their series), but i like talking about myself so i will be responding to this either way 😁 

my upbringing was also uh..dysfuctional to say the least, and a lot of the foster/adoption side of the story is (loosely) based on a situation i grew up in the periphery of, so not much of this is necessarily based on my own lived experiences as a child.

i think my inspo generally comes from 3 places:

1: the internet -> TikTok, reddit, YouTube, etc., and it doesn't even necessarily have to be kid-centric. this post, for example, was inspired by a screenshot of a TikTok that got posted onto instagram. i used reddit for bits and pieces of this post too. people get pretty real on reddit - it's not great for facts, obviously, but i find it to be a good resource for hearing about other people's lived experiences

2: interactions with kids -> i am the oldest of about 100 cousins (it’s actually more like 25 but that’s still a lot i think) and i've grown up with kids of all ages basically my entire life. i also babysat for years and worked with a lot of teenagers at retail jobs.

3 - my own life, be that conversations i overhear, or, occasionally memories of my own childhood. i do also think a small part of me is creating a kind of childhood i wish that i’d gotten, which…i dunno that might make me sound like a crazy person but whatever (this post is 100% just me projecting lol)

in terms of realism, writing kids is genuinely not easy, especially when they're younger. i definitely recommend doing research on developmental milestones for whatever age you’re writing, and I have a general rule for myself that the younger the kid is, the more I try to avoid writing dialogue for them because I think it's really hard to capture in writing the specific way that young kids/toddlers/babies speak.

and then i think that sweet spot where cute and realistic intersect really comes down to remembering that you're (probably) writing from the perspective of a parent. parents (usually) adore their kids and eat up every single thing they do, so it's really more about the way the parents are reacting than what exactly the kid is doing. this post is a good example - moe isn't really doing anything out of the ordinary here; steve and eddie's perspective on it is what makes it feel special.

hope this helps <3

[miss-dollette]

Me post. If you’re here for the fic’s, move on… if you’re nosy - stick around :)

Has anyone else poured their heart out to their “friend” and then overheard them making fun about what you were talking about later on, and you were like “damn, I only talk about stuff like that with people I consider close friends,” and then feel betrayed as fuck? Idk, maybe just me.

Anyways, I forgive her, but I will never forget that. Because I have kept secrets she’s told me, I’ve been her emotional outlet and patiently listened to her talk about her problems. I’ve helped her (not as much as she’s helped me, but If she asked me to do something for her, I’d do it in a heartbeat beat) and she’s gotten me into contact with people who’ve helped me. And I’m thankful for that. More than you can imagine. I’d help her with anything she’d ask of me.

But am I overreacting for feeling shitty as fuck about what she said and how she was kind of… mocking me and what I was talking about?

I talked a lot, but she kept responding, so I responded back. She couldn’t have just told me to… idk - relax? Geez, I wouldn’t take it hard. I would have appreciated it, instead. But I was so lost in passion, and I thought I finally found someone who I could be myself with.

I feel like a goddamned fool. I feel like I trusted the wrong person. I’m not sure if I should hate her, or not. Because I don’t hate her. I don’t love her either. But I trusted her with my opinions and my passions, and i hear that, and I just…

Man, whatever.

At least I learned more about what I’m passionate about, and what I want to study in the future.

It’s like I can’t turn to anyone. And that’s a truth I’m gonna have to accept. Rely on yourself, don’t trust anyone with your secrets and don’t expect everyone to take care of your heart. And certainly don’t believe everyone has the same values as you.

The few that are in, I love with my entire heart. I will never talk shit on their name. I would never let their secrets go past my lips, and all of our conversations would be between us. I would be there for them, no matter what. That’s a secret vow I take with all my friends. The few I have let into my heart.

I think that makes it worse.

I’m not religious, but at this moment, I wish I was, so I could just pray and find comfort in a God, one that I just cannot force myself to believe in.

God, I haven’t felt like this since Middle School. Fuck. 😢

I’m probably making a huge fuss about this, but this is how I feel.

I’m not a shy, little child anymore, and I’m gonna confront her with it. I will tell her my thoughts. After that, I will not talk to her ever again.

To be continued….

[gerhardtz]

Anon from the previous Hanzee ask again! Thank you for answering, I was super happy to see that you responded! It’s cool being able to just dump out my long festering Fargo questions lol. Honestly that makes sense about him being an ally, and of him probably not having many other people to be around (Ive thought about that too), not farfetched at all! (Also the emotional constipation is so true, which is currently making me sob over figuring out how to navigate making a slow burn) I’d like to see your other headcanons about him, if that’s ok! Always interested to hear stuff about him!

Hi again, I'm glad I could help! Writing a slow burn is really tough – I've also been struggling, especially with pacing, while planning out my own OC x canon fic with Rye. I think depending on their personality, it might end up making the most sense for the OC to take initiative if Hanzee is refusing to budge emotionally :P this helped me in writing my own because god knows Rye has the emotional aptitude of a pea TwT Just a suggestion though of course! It's entirely possible to write it either way – just something that helped me out personally. The fun thing about emotional constipation is that it all has to come out eventually (:

As for my other headcanons, a lot of them have something to do with his relationships with the other characters. For example, I like to think he's been aware that Rye is gay for a long time (and that Simone is covering for him by acting like he's girl crazy) but chose not to say anything for Rye's sake because he didn't want to make Dodd's treatment of him even worse. I literally just woke up so I can't think of many more off the top of my head, BUT I've always read him as somewhere on the ace or aro spectrum but not fully aroace. Whether that's projection or grounded in the text is up to you :P

Tumblr user gerhardtz answer an ask not related to Rye without bringing him up challenge FAILED MISERSBLY lmao my bad!

I hope this was an interesting read nonetheless – absolutely feel free to send more questions if you have any, I love rambling about The Characters :']

[papercranesong]

For the ask game:🤩 What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received? 🤷‍♀️What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular, but really took off? 🛌 What's a trope you haven't written, but want to?

Thanks @unmaskedcardinal for these great questions! 

What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received? 

Hmm, any comment is appreciated!, but I think the most meaningful one was when someone said my writing style reminded them of a Japanese garden, in terms of the simplicity and the way I’d placed the words. For me that was really encouraging because it definitely doesn’t start off like that - I spend ages editing a fic after I’ve finished it - like days and days, deleting whole chunks, playing around with rhythms and how the words sound together, and I get really frustrated at myself, like “why can’t I just write it properly the first time round!!” and doubting if it’s even worth doing, so that comment made me really feel “seen” I guess, like maybe it is worth all that time I spend editing.

What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular, but really took off?

I don’t really know how to gauge whether a fic has become popular or whether it’s taken off, to be honest, not sure what it looks like. But there’s been some fics that people have commented on and responded to that I wasn’t expecting, maybe something that resonates with them? Like there’s an A-Team one where Face has fallen asleep and Murdock is monologuing, it’s pretty short and I thought it might be a bit boring but people wrote some really nice things about it. Ditto with an Enterprise fic where Malcolm and Trip eat dinner together and no one actually says anything in the entire fic - again, I thought people might think it was a bit weird that there was no dialogue but again people responded really kindly to it. So that was nice! 

One trope I haven’t written but want to

I’ve never written an AU, like a proper AU, not canon-divergent, so I’m hoping to write an Enterprise on-the-allotment AU sometime this century!! I keep talking about it but haven’t written it yet.

And embedded within the hurt/comfort trope - I have never written a fever fic even though I do like writing medical tropes, so I am hopefully going to write about Malcolm having a temperature, likely far from enterprise, crash landed on a planet, with T’Pol probably. I just need to write it!!!!!!

Thanks again for the ask! 🖖

[azuremoonns]

A shortass oc x canon rejuv fic because I can.

Missing children karma files part spoilers btw

“Maybe that’s it.” Aoi muses. “Maybe we can’t save her at this point. We wait.” She sighs. “But you won’t, will you?”

Dylan looks at her. “You know me too well Aoi.”

“Of course I do Dyl.” She sighs again, her hands taking his. “I understand you. You won’t let this slide, and you’ll go off and do something stupid. You just won’t want a repeat of-“

“Of course I don’t!” He yells. “I don’t want a repeat of Kai!”

Aoi flinches at this. “None of us do! The others know full well how you handled that! Hell, you haven’t even recovered fully from it!” She looks at the door. “At any moment, Nyxria will come through this door and checkup on you, probably with Patricia. You and I both know that you aren’t handling this any better!” She retorts. “So Dyl, what will you do?”

“I’m going to kill them.”

“Great. Going down the revenge path right after you convinced me not to kill my sister.”

“I mean it Aoi. If it means getting Anne back-“

“So you’ll stoop down to my level? Down to my sister’s?”

“If it means getting Anne back, then so be it. I will kill that bitch and get her back, for us.”

Aoi grits her teeth. “Then go. I will search the ends of the earth to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” She says coolly, before leaving the house to find Nyxria.

Ten minutes later, Nyxria, Aoi and Patricia are back at his house. Aoi sighs. “Goddammit. Of course you went through with this shit.”

“He’s not here?” Nyxria comments. “Where did he go?”

“Charming.” Aoi responds. “Even he left a letter.”

After the three read the letter, with Patricia leaving immediately afterwards, giving up on the entire thing, Aoi sighs. “So he left us some baby Pokemon? Can’t say I’m shocked.” She walks up to the one with her name on. “Dear Aoi. I’m sorry about everything. I’m truly beyond saving at this moment. If I am to die, it is for her. I love you Aoi, and if you do ever find me, somehow, then have this. I planned on giving you this as part of our three month anniversary, but since I won’t be here for that, you can have it now.” Aoi reads out. “That idiot.” She comments. “That idiot! Doing all this on his own?!” She breathes, calming herself down. “I’m not giving him up. Not now, not ever.”

Nyxria looks at her Pokeball. “Deino. Not bad.”

“I got a Trapinch.” Aoi says. “Hey Nyx.”

“Yes?” Nyxria turns around.

“I figured I’d tell you what happened before you showed up. It was around the time you landed on Terajuma and stumbled across the Secret Shore.” Aoi sits down at the table. “Don’t tell him this by the way.”

Nyxria sits opposite her. “What is it?”

“Before you came into the picture, he was even worse. He didn’t really have anything to live for, so once he found me, he clinged to me. He saved me from a cult, and we fought said cult together. What he doesn’t know is that during all of this, dead people’s spirits were popping up all over the region. Usually you’d be unable to see them, but I could. I spoke to Kailani.”

This causes Nyxria’s eyes to widen. “What did she say?”

“She blamed him fully for her death. She blamed him for everything. I mean rigging bets and then gambling a life away? She was pissed.” Aoi mutters. “I can’t decide if she was being fully serious though, mainly because all spirits were influenced by this cult.”

“What’s your plan now?” Nyxria asks, sipping some water.

“Whilst I would stay here and rot, I can’t. I’m going to look for him.” Aoi says. “And I’m joining you on the Xen Raid. I feel I can help, just ring me up on the day and I’ll storm in on my own and well, raise hell.” Aoi sighs. “Damn it all.”

“I know you possess magical abilities, it’s not unusual since Melia and Erin can do magic as well.” Nyxria replies. “But Xen don’t know much about you since you haven’t fought them directly, we will have an element of surprise.”

“Let me know on the day.” Aoi stands up. “I’ll be searching for Dyl in the meantime.” She says coolly. “Later.”

“See you soon Aoi.” Nyxria says. “May Arceus protect us all.”

[rindomness]

oh yeah also because i really wanted this scene in the fic but i could not figure out a good way to insert it (somewhere during year 4, and the way I structured the numbers jumped me right past then) here's carlos and dana talking

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Dana knew.

Of course Dana knew, she’d been trapped there first. She’d been the one to show Carlos how to reach out to the rest of the world. To talk to Cecil again. Of course Dana knew. 

They’d never talked about it. How could he ask her, when she was so busy keeping the town from falling apart on itself? She was so young, and she’d barely had any time to adjust to being mayor before things had started to go wrong for her all over again. She’d survived NVCR’s internship program, but it hadn’t brought her any peace. 

So Carlos wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up, to potentially tear open a wound he himself was only now starting to acknowledge as such. Besides, she’d been Cecil’s intern, not his. He’d only been with her in that desert for a week. In terms of how long they’d both been there, together and separated, that was nothing. A week was nothing. 

He couldn’t stop Dana from asking him to get lunch, though.

It was a sunny day, the two of them sitting in Mission Grove Park eating meals brought from home. Relaxed. A break from the franticness of both their lives.

“So,” Dana said, one hand over her mouth as she swallowed, “How’s life been on your end?”

“Busy,” Carlos admitted. “I’d forgotten just how many disasters could happen in the span of three days.”

There had been almost none in the desert otherworld, aside from the occasional rumbling, but that had largely stopped a couple years after he’d gotten there. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had been causing it. Maybe Kevin's centipede god. That had been Kevin's theory, when Carlos had asked him about it.

“Yeah,” Dana agreed. “There's always something happening. You missed quite a bit of excitement while you were gone."

“So I’ve heard. It’s… sort of nice, though.”

“Having your life imperiled every time you step outside?”

“Not being by myself through it, at least.”

Dana hummed. She took another bite of her sandwich. 

“I sort of wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gone to the Dog Park that day,” Dana said. “Whether it would have been better or worse for me, for Night Vale, for Cecil.”

“You two are still pretty close, huh?”

She smiled.

“I like to think we are. I like to think we’re friends, even after what happened. I haven’t had much time outside of my mayoral duties lately, though.”

“I think he considers you a friend still, too, if it helps.”

“It does. Thank you. How have you been holding up? Re-adjusting okay?” 

“After…” Carlos sighed. “I’ve been trying not to think about it too much.”

Dana hummed, and nodded. “That’s fair.”

“How’d you deal with it? The… time thing.”

Dana looked thoughtfully out into the distance for long enough Carlos wasn’t sure if she was going to respond to him or not. 

“I guess, for me,” Dana said, “I wasn’t really stuck. I mean, yes, for a while, but I wasn’t in the desert otherworld the whole time. I spent some time in the Dog Park, and I spent some time in the desert otherworld. I spent some time watching the station from the desert otherworld. And I’d gotten a message, through whatever means the universe uses to send those messages, that I’d be back here eventually. I wasn’t there forever. I was just… waiting. Watching. At one point, preparing.”

Carlos hadn’t had some mystical force send him a sign he’d make it back to Night Vale, so he supposed it was probably different. Dana had known, at some point, she’d make it back. Carlos hadn’t.

“Besides, it wasn’t even really the thing most on my mind,” Dana said. “I still think about it, killing my double. Or the original Dana. I wish I knew which I was. But I think about it, all the time.”

“If my opinion means anything,” Carlos said, stirring around his noodles. “I think you’re probably the original.”

“What makes you say that?” Dana asked, elbows on the table. 

“Because Night Vale asked for you back. If you were a double, it might not have recognized you as being from this Night Vale.” It didn’t lock you in there with me. It forced you to leave.

“Hm,” Dana said, and took another bite of her sandwich. “Maybe.”

[bloodfromthethorn]

So I started writing another Macgyver fic for uhhh reasons, but then got 800 words in and realised this set up wouldn't work for what I wanted the story to do, so now I'm scrapping the entire thing. I might end up cannibalising parts of it for another fic in future, but for now I just didn't want to see any of it go to complete waste and figured I'd share it. Feel free to take anything from it for yourself if you wish 😊

..

“Anything on your end?”

“Nothing so far. You could give me a bit more of an idea what I’m supposed to be looking for, y’know.”

Mac huffed to himself, burying his entirely false annoyance with a roll of his eyes that went entirely unappreciated in the empty hallway. Like Jack hadn’t spent about as much time as Mac had looking for possible explosive devices. “Well, if it’s got wires and it’s ticking, it’s probably a bomb.”

“Har har.”

He snorted. “Well, what do you want me to say? You saw the same intel I did.”

“You know I just skim that stuff, hoss,” was Jack’s entirely untruthful retort. The man might act carefree, but Mac had never known anyone as detail orientated when it came to mission briefings. “I leave all the complicated bits for you to worry about.”

“How’s that plan working out for you?”

There was a moody silence. Fortunately, Jack had never been very good at keeping his mouth shut when he actually had free rein to speak as much as he wanted, so it was only around thirty seconds later when he came back with, “Why’d these guys set themselves up out here anyway?”

“I’d imagine it’s something to do with them not wanting anyone poking around in their super secret bomb lab,” Mac muttered, momentarily distracted by a flutter of movement down the corridor that turned out to be nothing more than a scrap of loose fabric caught on a broken door frame. He shook himself; the building might be eerie and he might feel exposed, but jumping at shadows wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “I can’t imagine they’re keen to have visitors.”

Jack grumbled something too indistinct for the comms to transmit more than static, then said, “You better be watching your back over there, hoss.”

“I always do.”

“You do not.”

Mac snorted, feeling his adrenaline softening in response to his partner’s voice. Somehow Jack always knew when he needed talking back from some invisible edge. One day, he might actually find the courage to ask him about it. “Hey, that’s not fair. I do watch my back. I just can’t always do anything about it.”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, we really need to work on your comforting skills.”

Mac opened his mouth to respond, only to freeze as he stepped through yet another unremarkable doorway and found himself in a space that looked kind of like a gutted school science lab. The room was filled with work benches, each of which held what could only be explosive devices in various stages of construction. It was an assembly line, he realised with a jolt; the organisation they’d been chasing down for the last month hadn’t just been dabbling in explosives, they’d been mass producing them. 

Shit.

“Mac?”

Realising he'd gone silent for too long, he scrambled to pull himself through the surprise. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm here,” he said. “Pretty sure I've found those bombs we were looking for.”

“Are they armed?” All the levity that had been buoying Jack's tone previously had vanished in a single swoop to leave only firm sincerity. Like flicking a switch, Jack had gone from a joking friend to a trained operative in a matter of seconds.

“Haven't figured that out yet,” he murmured back. Stepping carefully over a broken stool, he approached the nearest workbench with utmost caution. He couldn't see or hear any working mechanisms but that was no guarantee of anything and if he was eyeballing things correctly, there was enough plastic explosive in the room to flatten most of the building he was standing in. “There’s a lot more here than we’d expected.”

As he’d expected, the information was enough to grab the attention of the otherwise-silent Matty. “How much more?”

He shrugged for the benefit of no one. “At a guess? I’m looking at a few hundred pounds of–” He paused to sniff the air, appraising one of the blocks of plastic explosive on the bench beside him, “Semtex? I think.”

Jack whistled. "Yikes. That's more than we can get out of here on our own."

"And since we don't know where they've even managed to get this much, confiscating it is only going to delay them," Mac reasoned absentmindedly, crouching slightly to try to get a better look under the casing of one of the more complete devices. "Someone really worked hard to put all this together."

"I'm liking this less and less," Jack put in. "Stay put Mac, I'm coming to you."

Already sinking into the muffled, focused headspace he needed for dealing with IEDs, Mac just hummed.

[moon-silvered]

Hello! How are you? I’m not sure if creators receive notification on reblogged comments but I just want to make sure my confession gets through: I just finished reading your Love Under The Moonlight series and it really got me hooked! Your Steven is probably one of my favorite Stevens I have read on tumblr and I can’t get enough of all the witty conversations between him and the reader, or even just between reader and other characters. When reading a MK fic I always love learning Steven’s side of the POV more and how smart and sassy he can be other than the bashfulness. (Cause I can’t stress this enough: Steven got so much more to offer other than just the awkwardness. And imo your writing totally satisfied that aspect of his character) The dialogue feels clever and it’s just overall really fun to read. Not to mention the different ways you incorporated the telepathic elements into the fic is very intriguing and it keeps surprising me throughout the story; the usage of it, where it leads, how Khonshu reacts to it etc. It’s all very creative. I’d say it’s a perfect balance between romance and mystery, it’s almost like I’m watching an entertaining show on tv.

I never want go into a creator’s inbox and pressure a next part or anything. I don’t want to get my hopes up as I know it’s been awhile since the Can’t Fight The Moonlight series was updated. But I’m honestly quite interested in where the story is going, especially with Khonshu and Jake’s involvement, and learn what Marc is thinking, in what ways will Steven and the reader find out about the system etc. If there is no plan to continue the story I completely understand. My goal is really just to communicate my appreciation of your storytelling and how much joy it gave me in the last couple days. Your writing deserves so much more attention!!! I’ll certainly come back to this series from time to time just to re-experience the love in the characters throughout this journey! Thank you so much for writing :)

Wow so...this has been in my Inbox a long time, and can I just say...Thank you. Like truly thank you. I was completely taken away from writing this entire time but between this ask and all the comments and replies everyone has sent for Can't Fight the Moonlight, I was deeply touched. Truly and well touched. I really hadn't expected anyone would like my fics when I posted them because I'd never written readerfics before them.

Okay now that I've said that...

Yes, the way I write Steven is with all of that in mind. Like Yes he's awkward but he's clever, and witty, and really hilarious if you love deadpan humor - which is so on point for a British person. So I really strived to do that, to make sure i had that balance and insecurity. And I wanted to use that to create an authentic relationship between him and reader - give Reader a bit of personality too that responds to Steven and builds off him and is built on by him as well. A give and take.

Telepathy has always intrigued me as a concept, but I rarely see people delve into what it could mean and how it could be used in the day to day. Not just as a hero, but...just mundane stuff? And also the doubting of oneself and how being able to read someone's mind affects how quickly a telepath would get attached to someone - so they'd also have their own insecurities.

And yes! I've been trying to make this more of mystery with romance and fluff interspersed (every other chapter is more like).

Don't worry, you didn't pressure me. Life just got in my way from being able to write. I should note, chapter five has been posted as of me responding to this. Telepath!Reader will be interacting with Marc directly very soon. Jake will take more time.

I really do appreciate your ask. It really was so heartwarming to read and I kept returning to it when I was able to write for a little bit to keep me motivated and going.