#it's all in my brain and idk how to let it out

[artficlly]

read between the lines [one-shot]

college marvel au frat!jock!bucky x cheerleader!reader tutoring bucky barnes was already distracting enough, but leaving your diary in his room? that is a whole new problem.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, tutoring, first kiss, college au, vague panic from reader, idk it's just kinda fun and cute :), no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: hi this was for a request! so so cute, i wrote this so fast i didn't even think i would have it ready to post so quickly. idk anything about cheerleading or how college works in america, so forgive me. inspired by that willow song! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist

I’ve been tutoring Bucky.

Well, James, technically. But he goes by Bucky. Says it’s a childhood nickname and it just stuck, and honestly? That’s kind of adorable. Like, who clings to a nickname that hard? Even the professors call him that, which should be cringe, but somehow it’s not? It just suits him. I literally don’t think I could call him James even if I tried. ‘Bucky’ feels right. It sounds warm. Familiar. Stupidly charming.

Ugh. Anyway.

He’s in one of those frats I usually stay far away from. The kind that smells like cheap beer and Axe body spray. Always yelling, always playing music way too loud, always shirtless for no reason. I swore I’d never waste my time on a guy like that. I really thought he was gonna be a cocky, arrogant douche when I first got assigned to tutor him.

But he’s not. Like… at all?

He’s actually really nice. Like, unfairly nice. That casual kind of nice that makes you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed. He remembers stuff I say. Not the big stuff, the tiny stuff. Like how I chew my pen when I’m stressed, or how I like lemon Gatorade for cheerleading practice. And yesterday he brought me those sour gummy worms I mentioned ONE time. Just handed them over all casual like, ‘Thought you might want a little sugar after practice.’ Who does that?? Like… stop. That’s not fair.

But of course, he’s like that with everyone. That’s the worst part. He’s charming in this totally effortless way. Looks at you like you’re the most interesting person alive and then turns around and does the exact same thing to someone else. How am I supposed to know what’s real?

And GOD. He’s hot. Like, it’s actually rude. He laughs and it does something to me. Like full-on makes my brain stop working. And his ARMS?? Every time he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows I lose one year off my life. For real. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. (I mean, he’s not, but like… what if he is???) Sometimes I forget what I’m even explaining because he’s just sitting there smiling at me with those eyes and that stupid little smirk and suddenly I’m thinking about kissing him instead of confidence intervals. It’s not okay.

He’s on the football team. Scholarship guy. Big deal. Girls are obsessed with him. I’ve literally heard people talk about him in the locker room like he’s a celebrity. And me? I’m just… I don’t know. I’m me. I cheer and I study and I try not to let my GPA fall apart and I pretend I’m not crushing on someone completely out of my league.

So no. I’m not gonna say anything.

Because maybe I did catch him looking at me the other day when I tied my hair up. Maybe he does stay a little longer when we’re done. Maybe he leans in a little closer than necessary. But maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe I want it too bad and I’m just reading into everything. I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to get hurt.

So I’m gonna do what I’m supposed to do. Help him pass stats. Smile when he brings me candy. Laugh at his dumb jokes. Pretend like my heart doesn’t skip a beat every time he says my name.

I’m just going to help him pass stats. That’s all this is. Right? God, I’m so dumb.

—

You were fucked. Well and truly screwed.

You couldn’t even focus during practice. Missed counts, off-beat claps, a completely botched dismount that nearly took you and the poor girl spotting you both out in one go. Natasha pulled you aside with that look—the one that said she was two seconds away from losing it—and muttered something about getting your shit together because the big game was in a week and this wasn’t the time to be spacing out.

But how were you supposed to focus? Your diary was missing.

Your actual, physical, spiral-bound diary filled with every unfiltered thought you’d been too scared to say out loud. The same one where you’d spent the last four pages gushing about Bucky freaking Barnes like some sad, delusional teenage cliché. You didn’t even want to think about what you wrote last night, something about his arms and the way he smiles and how you swore he looked at you differently when you tied your hair up. It was humiliating.

You never should’ve taken it out of your room. You knew it was a bad idea. But Yelena had been on one of her ‘I’m bored and nosy’ benders, and the last time you left anything out, she’d read your old poetry journal and quoted it back to you at breakfast. You weren’t about to risk that again. So, like a total idiot, you shoved your diary in your bag before heading to class, thinking you’d keep it safe with you.

The entire day had been chaos. You barely managed to scarf down lunch between lectures, and by the time your 3 p.m. class let out, you were already sprinting across campus to make it to Bucky’s place for tutoring. Not that you actually got much tutoring done. You never did, not when he looked at you with that stupid, easy grin, or leaned back in his chair like he owned the air around him. One second you were going over statistical formulas, and the next you were talking about childhood pets and favourite movies, laughing like you hadn’t just been drowning in assignments ten minutes earlier. Time always slipped away around him. You ended up bolting to cheer practice.

It wasn’t until hours later, back in your dorm with your bag dumped upside down on the floor, that you realised your diary was missing. Your diary. 

You’d spent a solid hour panicking, then a full thirty minutes rummaging through the lost and found at the campus security office, practically elbow-deep in a box of mismatched gloves and cracked phone cases. The guy behind the desk eventually looked up from his screen, where he was rather obviously playing solitaire, and told you with the energy of someone who very much did not care that maybe it hadn’t been handed in.

You wanted to scream.

Now your most personal, most mortifying thoughts were just out there. Floating around. God only knew where or with who. And sure, maybe whoever found it wouldn’t read it. Maybe they’d be a decent human being and just turn it in without flipping through. But let’s be honest, if you found a diary with someone’s deepest secrets in it, you’d probably peek too.

You were going to be sick. Actually sick. And not because Natasha had you running suicides again like she was training you for the NFL, but because your life might genuinely be over. Because if he found it? What if you left it in his room? What if Bucky read even one word of what you wrote?

You didn’t even want to finish that thought.

No, you literally couldn’t even finish that thought because, as Natasha finally called for the end of the session and the team began their warm-down stretches, swapping tired smiles and gulping down water, you saw him.

Bucky.

Standing at the edge of the field in that stupid grey hoodie, sleeves pushed up, all smug and handsome like he hadn’t just shown up to ruin your entire existence. He had that lazy, charming smile on his face, the one that made people trust him too fast, the one that made you trust him too fast, and in his hand?

Glittery blue cover. Spiral binding. Your diary.

You were going to throw up. No, genuinely, you could feel your stomach lurch. This was it. This was how you died. Not in a blaze of glory or during a botched basket toss, but here, sweaty, humiliated, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the middle of the goddamn football field.

You didn’t even think. You just stormed over before anyone else could notice, grabbing his arm and dragging him behind the bleachers like it was a crime scene. Which it kind of was. A crime against your dignity.

Bucky didn’t protest. He followed easily, letting you pull him along like it was some sort of game. Of course he did. And of course, he was smiling the whole time, like you hadn’t just gone into cardiac arrest ten feet away.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could barely speak. It rattled in your chest like a warning, like it knew this moment was about to go down in your personal hall of shame.

“Where…how…why do you have that?” you hissed, snatching at the diary, but he held it just out of reach, still annoyingly calm.

He raised a brow, like you’d just asked him what two plus two was. “You left it at my place. After tutoring. You were in a rush, remember?”

No. No, no, no, no, no. Of course, it had been his place. Of course.

“I—I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t thinking, I just—” You were spiralling, words tumbling out too fast, too breathless, and your fingers were twitching like you might just snatch the book and sprint across campus. “Did you…Did you read it?”

A beat. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you.

And then, God, he smiled. Not the cocky one, not the football-star grin. This one was softer. Slower. Dangerous.

Your stomach dropped.

“I read enough,” he said.

You froze.

Your ears rang. Your mouth went dry. Your body just stopped.

“Enough?” you echoed, voice cracking halfway through. “Enough of what? Enough to—oh my God.”

You turned away instinctively, hand over your mouth like that could somehow keep your soul from escaping your body. Because what did that mean? What was ‘enough?’ Enough to ruin your life? Enough to laugh about it with his frat brothers? Enough to tell every girl on campus that the cheerleader who couldn’t even stick a full-out had a crush on him?

You didn’t even realise you were pacing until Bucky gently caught your wrist.

“Hey. Relax,” he said, and his voice was way too steady for someone holding the social equivalent of a loaded weapon.

You yanked your arm back like his touch burned. “Relax? Bucky, that was private. It’s literally a diary! It’s not for reading, it's for… spiralling in silence!”

He tilted his head a little, watching you carefully, and if he was offended by your panic, he didn’t show it. “You left it on my bed. Open.”

You groaned and covered your face with both hands. “Please. Just kill me. Right here. Hide the body under the bleachers. I’m serious.”

Bucky chuckled—chuckled, like this was some kind of joke—and stepped closer. You could feel his presence even before you lowered your hands again. 

“Why didn’t you just say something?” he asked, quiet now. “If you felt that way.”

Your eyes snapped to his. “Because I didn’t know if it meant anything! You’re nice to everyone. You flirt like it’s a reflex. You remember everyone’s drink orders, compliment their outfits, hold doors and say all the right things. I thought I was just another person you were… nice to.”

He didn’t answer your panicked rambling right away. Just looked at you for a long moment.

“Yeah, I’m nice to people. Doesn’t mean I feel the same way I feel about you.”

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

“What?” you whispered, hating how small your voice sounded.

He held your gaze, completely serious now.

“Like I wanna kiss you every time you chew that damn pen cap. Like, I think about you even when I’m supposed to be studying. Like I can’t focus when you’re talking ‘cause all I do is stare at your damn lips.” He paused, and something almost like a laugh broke out of him, soft and self-conscious. “Like I’ve been trying to find a not-creepy way to tell you I like you since the second tutoring started, but you were always so focused and cool and out of my league.”

That last part made your head spin.

“Out of your league?” you repeated, eyes wide.

He smirked, stepping just a bit closer, lowering his voice. “Have you seen yourself? You’re smart, you’re so pretty it’s ridiculous, and you’ve got this whole thing where you act like you don’t know you’re the coolest girl on campus. Of course, I was nervous.”

You blinked at him. “Bucky… are you flirting with me behind the bleachers while holding my diary hostage?”

He grinned. “Maybe. Depends. Is it working?”

You tried to snatch the diary out of his hand, but he was faster, effortlessly holding it just out of reach like it weighed nothing.

“God, I hate you,” you muttered through gritted teeth, bouncing up on your toes in a desperate attempt to grab it. All it earned you was the embarrassing realisation that you were now fully pressed against his chest, warm, broad, and stupidly solid.

“You really don’t, at least not according to this—” he said, low and smug.

“Bucky!” you warned, trying to reach again, but he shifted it higher.

“Give. It. Back,” you hissed, practically climbing him at this point.

“I will,” he said, eyes flicking down to your mouth in a way that made your stomach twist and your breath catch. “But only if you let me kiss you first.”

Your brain short-circuited. Completely and entirely. The words took a second to process. His voice had dropped, softer now, more serious, like he wasn’t just messing with you anymore.

You looked up at him, heart thudding so loudly against your ribs you swore he could hear it. His eyes searched yours, and for once, he didn’t look like the effortlessly confident guy everyone knew. He looked… nervous like he was the one waiting to be rejected.

“…Fine,” you whispered, the word barely making it past your lips, but your smile gave you away. It was impossible to hide, giddy and crooked and ridiculous.

And then he kissed you.

He bent his head and closed the gap like he’d been waiting weeks for it—maybe he had. His mouth was warm and sure against yours, one arm still holding the diary hostage, the other dropping to your waist, pulling you in like he couldn’t help himself. You kissed him back without thinking, without doubting, like maybe this was the answer you’d been afraid to ask for all along.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and blinking at each other like idiots, he handed over the diary with a grin.

“Okay,” you whispered, still a little breathless. “That was… good.”

“Just good?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning. “Don’t push it.”

He laughed softly, thumb still brushing your cheek. “So… does this mean I get to keep seeing you after stats is over? Or do I have to fail on purpose to keep you around?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re right. You’d probably kill me.”

“More like definitely.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward. He looked at you like he already knew what you were thinking. And for once, you didn’t feel like running from it.

You were so, so screwed.

But maybe… in the best way possible.

[cherrygirlfriend]

idk what u are planning but could u write something about fragilefawn!reader remembering rafe? like she just knows him while he tries to understand her? pretty pls 🫨 and tyyy

can you tell me your name?

rafe goes to visit fragile fawn’s house and properly meets her for the first time.

thank you for the request!! i’m loving my fawn girl <3

rafe knew that it was stupid to worry about some girl he didn’t even know the name of; but after driving through the road you’d taken every day for that one week at the exact same time and not seeing you anywhere, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t considered to just drive by the house he’d followed you to that one night.

rafe had considered it to the point where he didn’t even register the moment he got into his car, or starting to drive, or even going down the road. he only realized it when he arrived right outside the house, when he saw a familiar figure standing at the front porch, sweeping leaves away. even though the house was hidden by surrounding trees, far and isolated from all the other people on the island, it was large, and based on the flowers planted around it, well taken care of.

rafe got out of the car, his loafers crunching on the gravel as he walked towards the entrance to the building, while you didn’t even seem to notice him, your head ducked low as you continued cleaning. as he got closer, he noticed just how different you looked when you weren’t in the long nightgown matted with dirt. right now, you had on a short-sleeved white ruffle-collared button-up, as well as a pair of dark brown shorts, your feet once again bare. as he got closer, he could see your lips moving and hear mumbled words, just unable to make them out, but even as he stood right in front of your house, it was as if he was a ghost.

the boy cleared his throat, and you looked up from the floor with furrowed brows, “yes?” you asked softly, “is there something i can help you with?”

“it’s me.” rafe said, but when your brows remained furrowed, he scratched the back of his head, “the shoe guy?”

“oh. oh! yes, that. your shoes were very comfortable.” you smiled warmly, “would you like them back? they’re right inside.” you leaned the broom against the wall. “no, ‘s not it.” rafe cleared his throat, “just wondered how come you weren’t doing it anymore. y’know, walking and shit.”

“oh.” you chuckled softly, clapping all the dirt off your hands as you sat down on the highest step, while the boy looked to the step right next to you, narrowing his eyes as he thought about whether or not you’d want him to join you. in the end, he ended up doing it, his longer legs reaching the lowest step. “it’s a thing i do.” you shrugged, “a full moon walk. for the three days before the full moon, i do a night walk, as well as on the full moon, and three days afterwards. i feel like it helps me connect with myself, and the world.”

rafe raised his brows and snorted, “you’re fuckin�� with me, right?” but your face remained passive, “you’re… serious?”

“don’t worry, i didn’t think you’d understand.” you chuckled softly, looking down at your feet. “i’ve always felt connected to nature in a way most people don’t. the world… speaks to me, in a way it doesn’t speak to others.”

“you sound insane.” rafe said bluntly, but you simply let out a chuckle, making the boy furrow his brows, “you not offended?”

“no.” you shrug your shoulders and look up at the sky, “when i tell most people about what my thoughts are like, what my brain is like, they just start avoiding me like the plague or say those things about me, just behind my back.” you look at him with a genuine smile, your eyes crinkling from the way you smiled, “honesty is refreshing. what’s your name?” you asked, telling him yours.

rafe narrowed his eyes and sized you up; what you were saying sounded like pretentious hippie shit to him, but the kindness in your eyes, the way the sunlight reflected in them, showing every last detail in them, just… made him trust you. “i’m rafe.”

“that’s funny.” you chuckled under your breath, making rafe furrow his brows. but just as he was about to ask what you meant by that, he could hear someone call out your name from inside the house. “duty calls.” you got onto your feet. rafe watched as you walked to the door and pulled it open before turning around to face him one more time. “it was nice to see you again, rafe. you should come see me again sometime.”

and then you disappeared like you were never there.

thank you for reading! send a request & check out my masterlist <3

taglist + some moots <3: @rcsbabydoll @inbred-eater @littlelamy @dollyfiles @nemesyaaa @filthyrafe @drewsephrry @houseofblve @jjslaybank @soldiersgirl

[slut-arc]

A small drabble, based on my last reblog, by @evilrobotclown. “the reason will never arrested hannibal is because it would immediately get freaky. That is all”

Will finally captures Hannibal sometime in season 3, and quickly realizes that maybe it’s exactly what he’s wanted this whole time.

Idk where this came from, but maybe I’ll write a full story for it on my ao3 eventually.

Rated M, but not explicit?

~

“It appears you finally have me where you want me, Will.” Hannibal has the gall to sound vaguely amused, humor sparkling in his gaze, like the heady champagne they’d once sipped during their unofficial therapy sessions.

“Now what? You’re just going to stand there and take it?” Will asks, his voice biting and sharp. “After everything you’ve done to me - everything I’ve done to you - you’re just going to let me take your freedom from you, just like that?”

Hannibal leans against the wall, looking disgustingly relaxed - calm at the shoulders, lax at the jaw, suit buttoned all the way up to the uncharacteristically tender hollow of his neck - the fucking bastard.

“I believe it wise to allow an outlet for your rage. These things tend to boil contemtously when left untended.” The older man muses, tipping his head just slightly to the side with a disarming half-smile. “You have had me captured for far longer than just today, dearest Will.”

Something about those words have him grinding his teeth together, and he’s taking steps forward before he can even think about it.

How dare he make it so easy for Will? He’s dreamt of this moment for years, and now that it’s being handed to him on a silver platter, the very sight of the placid offering turns his stomach.

With a surprised huff of breath from the older man, Will bodily presses Hannibal’s front to the wall, the perfect white of his buttoned shirt dirtied by the stone wall that stays, unyielding, against the doctor’s front.

“Stay still.” Will spits out, pulling the handcuffs from his pocket that he’d borrowed accidentally from Jack. Crawford doesn’t need to know about this; he’d take this opportunity from Will - halt the crescendo of the symphony that has played non-stop for years inside the hollowed-out place in his brain that bares Hannibal’s initials.

“Where else would I go?” Hannibal’s voice is steady, and it takes him back to Baltimore, to those quiet nights spent in the older man’s library - solitary, yet together - unspoken words ringing in his ears like the bells of a church he’d tethered himself to like a sacrificial lamb.

He’s no lamb now.

“Shut up.” Will’s angry now - his jaw is as taut as a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment. His forearm presses Hannibal’s cheek to the wall, held firmly against the back of his neck. With his other hand, he secures one of the cuffs to the man’s wrist.

For a fleeting moment, he thinks about attaching the other half to his own wrist and tethering them here, together forevermore, until they turn back to ash and dust.

The other clicks into place soon after, and the sight of it has Will baring his teeth in something reminiscent of a snarl. Breath leaves his nose in a harsh exhale, and his fingers glide up into the hair on the back of Hannibal’s head.

He’s struck with the sudden urge to bash his head into the wall - to splatter the stone with the brunette’s brain matter, so this ordinary wall can live with the legacy of the best worst man he’s ever known.

Gritting his teeth so hard his temple aches, he hears a phantom voice - just barely - one he hasn’t heard in so very long.

See? See?

“What will you do with me now, Will?” Hannibal’s voice is slightly hoarse with pain, and only then does Will realize that he’s been gripping the older man’s hair with an unyielding force.

“I’m going to-“ He gasps for air, as if he’d just run a hundred miles. “I’m going to turn you in.” His voice is a rumble next to Hannibal’s ear - a desperate rasp. He feels the other man shiver minutely as his warm breath washes over his flesh.

Once more, he isn’t quite sure who’s in control here; he’s never sure.

“You’re going to rot in jail, how you deserve to, after everything you’ve done to me.” He grunts, his front holding Hannibal to the wall.

With an excitement that blossoms in his chest, and a shame that threatens to tamp it out, he realizes that he isn’t physically unaffected by this situation - far from it, actually. Perhaps that’s why Hannibal’s voice sounds uneven - why he keeps shifting minutely against Will, wiggling closer rather than further away.

Interesting.

“You could do that, yes.” For once, the doctor sounds unsure of himself, and it makes Will’s lips curl into a sadistic grin. “Or-“

“-or what?” Will’s panting against his neck now, open-mouthed, like a beast ready to snap the neck of its prey. His hips nudge forward minutely, and he catalogues the way Hannibal’s whole body seems to jolt against him.

“Or, we could simply-“ A sharp inhale from Hannibal, and the wet click of a swallow. “-find another way to resolve this situation.”

“And how do you recommend we do that, doctor?” His teeth scrape against the soft spot just under Hannibal’s ear, finding it to be as temptingly vulnerable as he’d secretly dreamt for it to be.

“You’re quite good at using your imagination, Will. I’m sure you can figure something out.”

Grinning now, the younger man grips a handful of Hannibal’s hair and twists his neck back just enough so their heavy breath can mingle in the space between their mouths.

“Clever boy.” Will mocks, before finally closing the space between them.

Maybe this is what he needed all along.

[thefaithfulnightwriter]

A Premise + A Update & A Vote

A Premise ~ A Burning Star

𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 she was a bright star. A star that burns bright. Even in a dark place she would still burn bright and bring light into people's lives. She was everyone’s bright star, especially three males. Three males who were her brothers. Who would do anything to keep her safe, their little star. 

But it was one horrible night, she goes through something terrible trying to protect herself. But she survives with many losses. Not only did she lose many things she also finds herself lost in a whole new world. In a world so different from hers that she has to navigate. 

She was lost and broken for so long, for so many years. 

Until she finally decided to do something with her life. And with this decision she finds many things happening to her. A rough new intense adventure starts for her. From meeting new friends, enemies, and even meeting someone special she never thought she would find…  a mate who was named 𝖃𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝕽𝖎𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓.  

A Update ~ My Life

Okay hiiiiii you guys okay so much has been going on in my life it isn’t even funny from having my mother going to the hospital and almost losing her a couple times (she’s still goin through it but she’s doin ok now) from losing my best friend do to her actions just yeah she hurt but whatever so yeah a lot has been happening in my life that like really sucks

i wanted to say i am so so so sorry for not uploading anything on here i have mainly been on my wattpad because i can wrap my head around it more like it’s easier for me on there and bc i am more comfortable there yk if that makes any sense but if you want you can check that out and there will be more over there

click here and bang thefaithfulwriter1 my wattpad

the link is there but i wanna try and upload on here now too but i will warn i am more so on my wattpad then anything so it would most likely be uploaded on there first then i'll upload here also i am only gonna be workin on one fic at a time like so A Burning Star has all my attention and i am tryna focus only on this book / fic

but before when i got on her i think i got a lil to happy and excited before and uploaded too much and a lot and i was all over the place while on here lmao then everything happened and i couldn't keep up on here so yeah imma try and stay with one book / fic at a time yk as i said imma try lmao it's just because how my mind and brain works so I am really trying to keep my focus on this book / fic and then once done i will move to the next

but anyways on to A Burning Star right now i got a question about the book / fic yes it is a series more than one chapter more then one part it's a read lmao but it's what i am working on atm it is a crossover a crossover between Fourth Wing and A Court of Thorns and Roses or FW and ACOTAR and the love interest is the lovely Xaden Riorson

i wanted to know did you guys want me to upload it here or no like i have 14 chapters done and written and i am working on writing chapter 15 now of the book / fic and yeah i have so many ideas and everything and i am still writing and on a roll with it and what not

but yeah just let me know do you want to see or read it or uploaded here on tumblr like i have it on wattpad and all but should i put here too and like when should i upload it like all the parts i have at once or put it as a schedule sort of i'm sorry idk if i am making sense lol

ohh and that above was a little premise yk so you can decide if you want me to upload it if i get a good vote and everything then boom it will be done it shall be uploaded by me lol

A Vote

also i am so sorry with how i am tagging this i am just trying to get it out there and find my way around tagging for this fic idk what the f0ck i am doing when it comes to tagging on here lmao if you have any pointers on tagging a crossover like this lmk pleaseee

I am also so iffy and nervous on if i wanna post this on here like i post mostly on wattpad so like idk this would really help

I will shut up now and will leave off with that please let me know your thoughts and if you are excited and want me to upload it lol ok okay hope to hear from you byyyyeee!!!

[like-rain-or-confetti]

@soythesaucytoast this is for you, I'm so sorry I fucked it up posting too early. I misclicked on my phone! Okay, let's try this again and thank you SO much for the love❤️

Like.. idk if this has been asked before but like, s/o (Also right hand to a rouge) has been recently overworking themselves to the point of physical health declining becoming terribly sick and they still are pushing themselves too hard because they just want to be they best for their boss eyebags and sometimes falling asleep when sitting down long enough starting to develop a fever- stuff like that- also I adore your writing I love it

Overworked

Black Mask: At first, it seemed like he wasn't paying attention to your condition. That he was too busy enjoying himself in the club. He turned his back just when you were about to tell him about how off you were feeling rather suddenly. However, the lights were blurring, and a cold sensation rushed down your legs. You didn't see him turn back around. Without warning, he caught you holding you up. "You're alright, babe. I got you." He led you to sit in a booth. Snapping his fingers at a goon. "Get a glass of water. Cold." He turned back to you. "Right, baby, are you with me? You're alright. We're gonna get you some water and a quick snack for the ride home. Get you some food on the way back and you're gonna take some time off."

Scarecrow: He noticed how you kept shifting your weight from one leg to the other, lifting a leg and rolling your ankle every so often. "Are you alright?" He asked warily. You nodded. "Yeah. I'm good." You nodded, trying to push through the pain. Jonathan didn't buy it. "No, you're in pain. You've been standing all day. Sit down." He said, and whilst you protested, he didn't take no for an answer, guiding you to sit on the desk. Wordlessly, he took one of your legs, massaging the calf, knee, and thigh. You grimaced slightly at first before feeling the relief as your muscles were forced to relax under his firm grip.

Two-Face: It had started when you went to eat. It was all fine until you took the first bite. A shiver went down your spine, your body screamed that this isn't what it wanted despite looking forward to it. Now you wanted nothing but to spit it out. He sensed it as he put a hand on your thigh. Apparently, you weren't going fast enough because your brain sent off a signal that made you get up and make a run for it. You hurried to the bathroom. He followed just as quickly. His non-scarred hand rubbed your back. Nothing happened, but it felt like a close call. "You good? You literally lost colour for a second." Harvey said and checked your temperature. "This is stress, baby. I'm sure of it. You need a break - screw that!" Harv cut in. "You need time off. Real time off. You're gonna get sick. Not on our watch!"

Firefly: He paid attention to you more than you had thought. Without a complaint, you nursed a migraine, rubbing your temples and eyes interchangeably. Out of nowhere, You felt arms around your middle and a roaring sound attacked your ears before you were suddenly in the air. You were lowered again on a hill, the grass padding your decline as you lay on your back. "There. No city lights. Fresh air. We're gonna get you outta here so you can go lie down, babe. Just relax, I'm staying right here with you. I've got this."

The Riddler: He came into the room to see you were out, fast asleep on the desk. He leaned forward, hands on his knees as he bent to your ear. "(Y/N)?" He got no response then he blew air in your ear, and you jolted awake with a yelp. He caught you from going anywhere. "My dear, take a breath. everything has been taken care of." He found it cute. "You've been working hard. I appreciate it, but you're not as accustomed to this as I am. I must insist you go and get some rest." You had expected for him to be condescending but apparently he was feeling nice? Beware he'll likely use this against you later. It's only a matter of time. You know...narcissist and all that.

[th0rnback]

I really love your writing, could you share what is your process? Any tips for someone who is quite new at it? Has it always been so easy to write such long chapters?

HM? TIPS? MEEEE?!

I wish I could give you a clear process but my method of madness is probably something other folk go "OMG me too!!!!" Or "wtf are you doing?.?? Don't do that!"

Either way, all I can say is...

1. Write for yourself. Like, honestly, the support you gain and comment-folk who spur you on are honestly unsung hero's, but sit your ass down and write that tale for yourself. Idk why but if I think of pleasing others when writing my brain turns off so i'm all: don't like, don't read - fuck off.

[Then you find out people like what you like and wrote and suddenly those who are unknowingly encouraging you to write with their enthusiasm are e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g]

2. Word vomit - I think my chapters are long (but they dont feel long to me? Yet your not the first to say that to me haha) because I literally spew on a word doc everything that I've day dreamed or written briefly on my phones note app when something hit me, including alternative routes/plots or scenes. This means I have A LOT of things that don't get used or I think doesnt "fit right" for the focus and this probably is time wasteful and messy but it works for me because I got the ✨️Meat Grinder✨️ meets ✨️Shou Tucker Method. ✨️

[Note: all those scenes, dialogue lines, unused or ill-fitting things created from word vomit get shoved aside into a doc called the Meat Grinder aka they are there for other fics or later chapters. It is there they get minced up and, like a certain FMA bad daddy with a dog a kiddo, I'll splice them together into another chapter/fic aka The Shou Tucker Method.

3. Drip drip drip, embrace senses, and screw expectation - don't stress about feeding everyone information at once, give enough to set scenes or help readers see what that dorky fellow your wtiting about is doing or wearing, but everything else can be drip fed because life likes to lure us down alleyways as opposed to give us a intruction manual.

I think my chapters are long because I'm an oddball who gets a bit hyper focused on senses beyond sight - touch/texture, smell, taste - and even how your body responds to certain things. Then again I'm a sensory weirdo who spends too much time in my head and makes Anakin Skywalker's hatred of sand look mild. I get this can be overkill though? So... eh.

Thats why you screw expectation. Write with your voice (or get into the charscters dummy head), format how you wish (unless you want feedback and someone goes wtf this formatting is killing me mate stahhhhp!) And let yourself allow others to be immersed into the rambles you create.

💖my tips are shit and you are gonna be grand but you got this. 💖

[egophiliac]

missed the mark by (looks at calendar) uhhh. hm. but I really wanted to do something for the 5th anniversary! happy five years to these idiots 🎉

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..

[im-kinno-hello]

and if i made a comic about them making a blog for the weird demon dog they found in the woods just because they are being brainwashed by it and it told them they need to spread the word of what word they don’t even fucking know?

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[moeblob]

The Ice Deity and the Fire Deities

While very much male, the ice deity has been dubbed "Princess" by Ohime and Ohiwe since they love to give lil nicknames to their fellow deities. The two overheard mortals talking and using the phrase "ice queen" for the first time and were like "wait can you elaborate" and when hearing what it meant, they realized their ice deity buddy bro is nowhere NEAR that cold. So he can be the ice princess rather than queen. (he just accepts his fate from them and no other deity uses that nickname. it's just the fire duo)

[theclownghoul]

So I got spoiled about the Ekko talking Jinx down scene in episode 9 and I remember my first thought being how tf did she get away from Vi. She knew how devastated Jinx would be over Isha and after their fight in ep3 she would not want to leave her alone after that. I knew whatever happened people would blame Vi for it so I hoped she would try to slip away without Vi’s notice or in a way she couldn’t follow, which is what happened… kind of.

I’m not the first or the last to say that the placement of Fantastic was terrible because somehow I thought of how Vi would react to Jinx running off in such a state in about 2 minutes with limited information but the writers didn’t consider that in god knows how long.

So since I’m considering rewriting a few parts of season 2 here’s my rundown of changes for this scene.

Jinx breaks away from the hug and locks Vi up as is

When Cait finds her she is actually concerned. I could still see a kiss but more comforting like in ep3. She sits down on the ground to be with Vi for a moment. (give me back tender, loving Cait what did u do to her)

Vi gets a second of comfort before going after Jinx

Cait offers to help, wanting to be there for Vi but she declines knowing it’ll just make Jinx more upset

Vi arrives at the Last Drop and sees it ablaze, fearing the worst she runs around the outside desperate and finds Sevika.

Vi demand to know if she knows anything about Jinx and Sevika says she’s with a Firelight, she found them in Jinx’s hideout when she went looking for Jinx (in this version Sevika joins the firelight team like in the concept art)

[ruvviks]

// oc deep dive.

tagged by; @aztarion and @devilbrakers, thank you so much!!

tagging; @mojaves, @deadrlngers, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @adelaidedrubman and YOU!

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Nathan has a lot of fears stemming from his paranoia. Tangible ones such as getting captured or killed by MOBIUS, his friends walking away from him, or someone following him home; as well as more unrealistic ones, such as somehow ending up back in STEM, or getting stuck in a time loop, or a giant sinkhole all the way to the core of the earth opening up right at his feet.

It also happens often enough that certain actions don’t necessarily scare him, but make him uncomfortable or highly on edge (often with good reason); think of someone locking the door of the room he’s in– especially when it’s just them two– or getting too close without warning. He often fears people he gets too close to will end up treating him like the Administrator did, which is why it takes a while for him to let Sebastian get any closer physically, despite warming up to him relatively fast.

A more uncommon fear he has is waking up one morning and having lost one of his senses or his ability to speak. Aside from the mental erosion that had become a growing issue among Union citizens, MOBIUS observed a similar kind of process in its agents who regularly jumped in and out of STEM for general maintenance and the like– presumably caused by the constant changes in brain activity, which more than often led to exactly what Nathan’s fear mentioned above describes. While he was among the agents who worked both in and outside of STEM on the Union environment, he was lucky enough to never suffer the consequences.

Lastly, he is deadly afraid of Anima. Despite not having shown any other symptom of succumbing to the STEM domination process, Nathan would have started seeing her around sometime before Lily vanished– presumably got her attention after some of his escapades in the secret labs in the Marrow– and he has not been able to sleep soundly in STEM ever since. While his fear of her mostly acts up when he’s in a STEM environment, it definitely translates over to the real world as well; during bad mental health episodes he has auditory hallucinations of her, and she makes regular appearances in his nightmares too.

Do they have any pet peeves?

When people are too passive. Nathan can’t stand it when he’s expected to initiate everything, from conversations to taking action, both in a work context (scheduling meetings, deploying new code) as well as personal context (scheduling to hang out, doing household chores). He also doesn’t like having to constantly ask people to do what they’re supposed to do– though this irritation more than often extends a little too far, to things he is expecting of people but never told them about.

Loud and unexpected noises, especially when done on purpose. Fireworks would be a great example of this, and they piss Nathan off no end. He gets snippy when people raise their voice at him for no reason, or when they keep banging their fist on a surface to get others’ attention.

Getting cut off in traffic. Nathan’s road rage is easily awakened and he can get a little drastic with it. His reflexes are fast enough to brake on time to avoid ending up in someone’s trunk, but will in that same breath speed right back up to crash into them on purpose as revenge for pissing him off.

What are three items you can find in their bedroom?

A large ring binder full of old code snippets, notes from various projects he worked on back at MOBIUS, and all his research ranging from neuroscience all the way to electrical engineering. Nathan is a little old-school in that regard– he’d much rather have all his research physically with him than save it all to some online storage platform and risk losing it like that.

A jigsaw puzzle, made entirely out of different pieces that he’s collected over the years (stolen from others’ puzzles, found in various locations, stolen directly from the store, etc). The full piece would total up to nearly 2000 pieces, though it is still missing a large chunk in the center; the result is an abstract piece containing mostly darker colors, though with various bursts of color scattered around like flowers in a field. Nathan isn’t the artistic type, but the project keeps him busy and he considers it a type of self-expression.

The knife he killed his parents with when he was sixteen years old. He’s not entirely sure why he kept it all those years– perhaps to remind himself what got him to where he is now, or because it’s the only thing he still has from that time of his life. Either way, it’s kept safe in the top drawer of his nightstand, easy enough to reach in case someone breaks into his apartment.

What do they notice first in a person?

First: State of mind, overall mood. How approachable do they look; can he afford to lower his guard or does he need to tread with caution, can he get close without worrying about a knife to the stomach or should he keep his distance? Nathan rarely shows immediate interest in someone’s overall personality, he would rather want to know which of their emotions he’s gonna have to deal with during their interaction(s).

Second: Body language. Ties in with the first thing mentioned– cautiously watching for threats, waiting to see if they make a move to touch (or harm) him so he can step out of their range. But it also extends a little further; Nathan tends to mimic others’ body language in conversation to make himself appear more approachable. If someone gestures a lot, he will do the same.

Third: Their smile, if relevant. Smiling is an eye-catching action to him, since he’s not one to quickly do so himself. It’s attractive to him; if someone smiles at him, you’ll be able to catch him staring.

Fourth: Scars, and other (skin) details. Nathan isn’t one to ask about them, of course– but they’ll catch his attention anyway, for a brief moment, since some of them already tell a story on their own even without words.

Fifth: Nervous tics, if relevant. By this point he’s been in conversation long enough to pick up on the little details– a slight thrill or shakiness to their voice, a thumb running over the side of their index finger, a nose twitch. In some cases it eases his mind, knowing the other person isn’t confident in their conversation either; in other cases it sets off alarms in his mind, and makes him wonder if there’s more going on than what they’re showing or telling him.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Physically: 7. While he doesn’t quite look like it, Nathan can take a hit or two. Most of his injuries happen in STEM– though with the way the technology works, the pain is very much real, and in some cases the scars are lasting even in the real world despite the damage having been sustained in STEM. To an extent, Nathan even enjoys the pain; it’s grounding for him, and keeps him from dissociating. When it gets too much to handle he simply drinks it away.

Mentally: 10. Nathan’s life has been a constant downward spiral; sent to a youth detention center after being wrongfully accused of killing his younger sister, and he was bullied relentlessly there, which continued until long after his release both at school and at home. At MOBIUS, he was required to work shifts in their HQ as well as in the Marrow, in the Union STEM environment– he was required to be mentally strong, or he would have already started suffering from mental erosion by long-term STEM exposure after his first few trips in. It takes a lot to break him (or so he likes to believe).

Emotionally: 4. Once you get past all the barriers, Nathan is pretty sensitive. He doesn’t deal well with rejection or misunderstanding, and is prone to assuming things are all his fault the second something goes wrong. It’s easy to upset him, though he won’t easily show; but the damage often takes a while to repair.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (Or freeze or fawn?)

Fight, more than often; though it may appear as flight at first, since Nathan’s favored combat approach is stealth and he will always find cover before doing anything rash. In certain cases, however, he would be more likely to freeze; especially anything related to Anima or an enemy type like her, where fighting is out of the question, and he knows that a single wrong move can mean his demise.

It translates to non-combat situations too– often willing to talk to people but his initial response is to get defensive and close himself off, and if not given a moment to regain himself it can lead to either fighting or freezing; biting back with similar ferocity or shutting down altogether, unable to pick up his rational train of thought in the heat of the moment.

It really depends on the type of confrontation, though; taking his own state of mind and who else is involved into consideration. He’s known to fawn when a situation starts feeling a little too familiar– generally surrounding the abuse he suffered from partially his parents, but mostly the Administrator.

What animal represents them best?

Wolf; bordering on dog motif, but cautiously so, requiring infinite patience and understanding to win his trust. Nathan is loyal and guarding to those he cares about, but he values his freedom– his choices and decisions are his and his alone, and anyone who tries to take that away from him will suffer the necessary consequences.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Curious, above anything else. Distant, reserved; surprisingly well-spoken, almost technical in his interactions with others as if the whole conversation is pre-programmed in his mind. Nathan isn’t necessarily cold towards others, but people would also not be quick to describe him as kind; though there is a certain warmth to the way he speaks and looks at people, despite the fact he very rarely smiles and isn’t one to quickly compliment someone else.

Appearance-wise, people tend to notice the white strands in his black hair first. They’re clustered at the front of his head, and match with the white hairs in his left eyebrow and the white eyelashes in the outer corner of his left eye. Nathan has very pale and rough skin, patchy but dark facial hair covering up most of his acne (/scarring); and part of the skin around his left eyebrow is lacking pigment, though it’s a little hard to see. He has very pale and bright blue eyes, which can be a little unnerving when staring at them for too long. Many people cannot maintain eye contact with him for very long.

Do they have any hobbies?

Nathan’s career is directly intertwined with his hobbies, and he enjoys working on code even long after cutting ties with MOBIUS. Software development, application optimization– his laptop runs on an operating system that he coded entirely himself, and whenever he has some time to spare he can be found tweaking and optimizing it and adding new features.

To no one’s surprise, he’s a gamer. Shooters, roguelikes, survival horror– he does not play all too often as his schedule often doesn’t allow for it, but he generally doesn’t have a hard time playing on higher difficulties and enjoys the challenge. Nathan has tried his hand at game design and development too, but stopped quickly when he found it too similar to developing the Union environment in STEM.

And last, surprisingly, would be writing. Journaling, some sort of attempt at poetry, or articles he would want to send in to some website or appropriate magazine but never does– a lot of Nathan’s writing is for his eyes alone, but it helps as an outlet, it keeps him grounded. For a while after leaving MOBIUS, he worked on writing tech manuals for various employers to earn some extra cash, which also ties directly into his interests.

[skunkes]

[puppppppppy]

oh yea.. its all coming together

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently