#making the joke in the tags of my last meme wasn't enough i had to make it real

[hydrachea]

Explorers of Sky is a good game.

[inciting-chaos-series]

The Night Shift: Chapter Three

If you'd like to be tagged when new chapters are posted let me know! -Ghostiewvlf

✦✦Update: Edited slightly :) -Ghostiewvlf

✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦

➢ Tag List: @valleys

➢Author: Ghostiewvlf & JTheGhost ➢ Rating: Mature ➢ Pairings: Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n ➢ Themes: Slow Burn | Coworkers To Lovers | Angst | Holiday | Mutual Pining | Fluff | Smut? | Hurt/Comfort | Soulmates | Fake Relationships | Miscommunication | Forced Proximity | Found Family | ➢ Warnings: Crude Humor | Suicidal Jokes/Ideation | Drinking | Smoking |

➢Summary:

You work the night shift at a local dog kennel for boarding and daycare. You love the peace and quiet of the shift, but just when you get comfortable- a few break-ins happen around town, and upper management decides to place your quiet, brooding, shift lead on the schedule with you.

☽✧ Chapter Three: Musically In Tune ✧☾

-Y/N POV-

Your second class wasn't supposed to start for another fifteen minutes, but you really didn't have the energy to get out of bed. You hated that you only had one day off work, sure your job was alright, but using your other day off as the day to schedule all your classes was really not the move, because now you didn't want to attend the lectures. The text that popped up on your phone didn't help focusing much either. Why was he texting you? Did he want you to come in on your day off?

Logan 🐺:

Hows school nerd?

“Weird” You said aloud, laughing to yourself as the small adrenaline rush of having to come in dissipated.

You:

Not exactly better than work, but not worse 

Logan 🐺:

I can always call you in for an ‘emergency’ haha

You:

No thanks! Lol

Next thing you knew your phone was flooding with sad cat memes about school. Your face quickly started to ache from laughing so much. 

Logan 🐺:

Don’t tell the boss im memeing on company time

You:

You are my boss stupid 

Logan 🐺:

Oh, yeah… guess I am ;) 

It was so bizarre seeing this side of him. In just a week he had gone from this “quiet shift lead that no one really wants to talk to” to “coworker that you look forward to working with everyday” to now, acquaintances? Friends? You didn't really know. It was hard for you to draw lines between stages of friendship at work. Maybe he was just being nice to make you feel more comfortable around him? 

Logan 🐺:

So… what class are you in right now?

You:

Just about to start music theory 

Logan 🐺:

RIP haha

Need any help studying? I’m pretty good with music 

You:

I might take you up on that actually lol 

I never have time for this class so now im nearly failing

Logan 🐺:

Bring your stuff next shift and we’ll work on it :)

You:

Thank youuuu :’)

You turned the screen off on your phone and tried your best to pay attention during your lecture, but you couldn't shake the nervous energy you had built up thinking about the next shift working with him. 

It didn't take long for the next workday to arrive. You had barely slept at all, staying up studying and trying to catch up in your other courses was beginning to take a toll on you. You arrived barely on time for your shift, quickly getting the usual updates from departing day staff before clocking in. You headed into the break room and set your things down before collapsing into the seat and catching your breath. You’d just barely remembered to grab your music theory notes and homework, collecting them in a rush and making you run just enough behind that you’d be late if you picked up food for the shift. At least you would be able to get some help from Logan tonight though and hopefully your next exam would go over better than the last. 

The day shift quickly finished up and clocked out. Logan seemed to be running a bit late, so once everyone else had clocked out and left you began the duties of the night. You were on your second rotation of letting dogs out when you heard his car pull up, so you didn't turn to look when you heard the backdoor open and a few more dogs run out. You continued playing with one of the more shy dogs that was boarding for the night and watched to make sure everyone was getting along.

“Hey there.” You felt a warm hand on your back, a sharp contrast with the bite in the cold fall air. You tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach acting up. 

“Oh hey!” a slightly-too-loud laugh falling from your lips. 

“I stopped at Starbucks and got us some coffee.” An uneven smile painted his face, making him look almost comical with his cold bitten nose and pale skin, along with those signature dark circles under his eyes. 

“Oh wow, thank you! I was running late and wasn't able to stop for anything today.” You smiled and accepted the warm cup and took an eager sip, grateful to have some caffeine for the night. 

“Oh huh, perfect timing I guess? You're welcome.” He chuckled and offered a smile just as warm as the cup in your hands. “I can order some food or snacks later too.” He took a sip of his own cup and huffed, his breath forming a small cloud in front of him due to the freezing temperature. As much as you despised the cold and how it made your already poor circulation in your hands feel like pins and needles, you did really love the aesthetics of it: the clouds of breath, the way it made faces redden, the smell that was draped across everything the night before a big thunderstorm or heavy snowfall, the oversized hoodies and layered outfits that everyone seemed buried in, big boots with chunky socks- it was all very comforting in a way, it seemed to round out the edges in a very sharp world.

The night went by much the same as it began. There was a very comforting feeling about the weather and the mood that you were both in, even the dogs seemed very subdued. Time seemed to go by a bit slower, which you happily welcomed after weeks of vigorous study. 

Though time seemed to be lulling along peacefully, you got your nightly duties done in record time. You blamed the unusually well behaved dogs. It wasn't long before you were both sitting at the front desk again, joking around and playing some light music. He hesitantly showed you a few of his favorite bands. You assumed his apprehension was from fear of judgment. Lucky for him, you both enjoyed darker, more melancholy music. 

You both listened to his Spotify playlist while he helped you on your coursework. You bopped along to several songs you recognized as he read through your work. BONES, Xavier Wulf, and several other artists played softly through the speakers. 

“Mm, yeah not this one…” You sheepishly laughed as you clicked skip on Cholesterol, not needing to feel too melancholic tonight. He merely chuckled and nodded with firm agreement. You were surprised by his knowledge about music, he helped you get through the entirety of your homework, as well as explained a bunch of the questions you’d missed on the last exam you brought with you. 

“How do you know all this? I feel like you know more than my professor honestly…” You laughed as you finished up the last question and shut your notebook. He’d managed to explain everything all in a way that was actually making sense to you. He’d even related back to songs that played out softly on the speakers and used them as examples to the concepts. 

“I sincerely fucking doubt that…” He chuckled tiredly. “I just- know music I guess… I spend a lot of time with and around it, I uh-  I’ve even made a couple songs myself…” You smiled as you caught the red tint on his heated cheeks.

“Wait really?” You gave him a surprised look. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if they're any good, but I like making them.” He shrugged and passed you the keyboard  and mouse to play music. 

“Can I hear one?” You pried, making him slump into his chair further and groan softly.  

“Ahh I don’t know, y/n…” He huffed and rolled his eyes playfully. “I haven't really shown anyone, but I guess if you promise to not make fun of me…” he turned slightly and narrowed his eyes at you, “...or tell anyone here-  maybe I’ll bring my computer next time or something…” 

“Hmm, we’ll see…” You squinted back, jokingly challenging him before laughing.

“I’ll write you up I swear to god y/n…” He joked back, laughing along with you. 

“OoOkay boss man…”

➢ Links:

✦ Fics Masterlist ✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦ ✦ AO3 ✦ Wattpad ✦ Art ✦ ✦ Requests Masterpost & Guidelines ✦ Request Trope List ✦ 。:゜:.*∵✧∵ ☽ Submit A Request ☾∵✧∵*:.゜: 。

[black-bentley]

WIP word search meme

I was tagged in this fun WIP meme by @dotsayers and it was an excellent excuse to go and rummage in my WIP folder to see what's gathering dust in there...

rules: share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

my words are: wonder, light, shadow, young, fear

Extracts are all from Biggles fics-in-progress (disclaimer: I make no promises about ever actually finishing any of these)

wonder

from a WW2-set Algy/Ginger longfic

"You've had an impressive career," said Raymond, flicking through Algy's file. "M. C., D. F. C., and more mentions in despatches than I'd care to count, both in this war and the last. Every officer who's served with you says that you're one of the best pilots—and one of the best men—they've ever run across. And that's before taking into account your inter-war service, to this country and others." He looked up expectantly.

Algy wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say, and so he settled on, "Thank you, sir. It's been my privilege." That seemed safe enough.

"I assure you, Flight Lieutenant, the privilege has been ours. It seems to me, however, that we have perhaps not acknowledged that privilege quite so much as we should. It seems to me," here Raymond paused, and looked Algy in the eye, "that an officer of your considerable talents shouldn't still be playing second fiddle at this point in his career. Not even to a man of Bigglesworth's calibre." Algy's heart sank a little. He'd suspected this day might come at some point—he and Biggles had even joked about it, debating whether they could reasonably share Ginger between them in the event that Algy was ever given a command of his own. "To cut a long story short," Raymond continued, interrupting Algy's thoughts, "there's a Spitfire squadron in East Sussex that will shortly be in need of a new C. O., and I wonder if you might take on the job. Promotion, obviously, to Squadron Leader—permanently this time—and all that that entails."

Raymond sat back in his chair, his sales pitch apparently at an end. When Algy didn't speak, he prompted him. "Well? Would you be interested? I do have a shortlist of candidates, but you ought to know that you're firmly at the top. All yours, should you want it."

light

Algy has the worst hangover of his life

A faint frown crossed Ginger's face. "Well. The party was fun. I had a nice time." He paused. "Didn't you?"

"Honestly, I've no idea," Algy groaned. "All I know is that I regret everything." 

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself at the time," replied Ginger, a little stiffly.

"Yes, well, we all make horrible decisions when we're drunk, don’t we? Nothing like the cold, or in this case far too bloody warm, light of day to—"

To Algy's astonishment, Ginger stood up abruptly and stalked away, slamming the door in his wake. Algy winced and rubbed at his temples, then took a mouthful of coffee, and all of a sudden wondered vaguely where Biggles had got to. As it happened, he didn't have to wonder for long; not ten minutes after he had stormed off, Ginger was back.

"Where did you—" Algy began.

"Skipper's missing," interjected Ginger, without preamble.

shadow

von Stalhein spends a long weekend at Chedcombe with Bertie

In the saddle, von Stalhein was transformed. Bertie knew himself to be a capable and sympathetic horseman but he, like most of his friends, had learned to ride rather informally in the garden and on the hunting field, under the watchful eye of first his nanny and then his parents' groom; as a result his own style was more practical than elegant. Von Stalhein, however, had been classically taught, and it showed. He sat upright but relaxed, his hands and elbows soft and yielding, and his heels falling naturally into perfect alignment. There was no trace of the uneven gait that he'd had as long as Bertie had known him, or of the slight hunch to his shoulders that had been in evidence since the events on Sakhalin. The hard years fell away and he looked, Bertie thought, like the proud Prussian soldier he must once have been.

It came as a relief. Biggles had assured him the man could ride, but it was one thing to sit a well-behaved horse on a Sunday stroll and quite another to pilot a fit, freshly-clipped hunter across unfamiliar country, especially on its first outing of the season. From what Bertie could see, though, von Stalhein and Sailor were going to make a nice partnership. The horse had, as promised, perked up as soon as his saddle appeared, and was clearly desperate to be off and running, jogging sideways along the road and spooking at shadows. Von Stalhein sat quietly throughout, occasionally rubbing the horse's shoulder or offering low words of encouragement.

Yes, thought Bertie, he'd do very nicely. He had intended simply to take the horses for a short ride, with perhaps a slow canter up one of the fields, but watching Sailor snort at imaginary monsters in the bushes gave him other ideas.

"Fancy giving them a bit of a leg-stretch?" he asked. Von Stalhein turned, and Bertie caught him smiling before his face rearranged itself into its usual neutral expression.

young

Algy and Bertie go hunting

Around lunchtime, Bertie confessed that he felt Nelson was beginning to struggle to keep pace a little, and stated his intention to hack back to the kennels. Algy was loath to see his friend ride off alone and offered to accompany him, although he felt Artemis still had plenty of running in her. She was a young horse, with plenty of seasons left to prove herself on the field; cutting one day short wasn't going to do her any harm in the long run, and perhaps it was better to take her home while she was still keen rather than tiring her out. They said their farewells to the master and whipper-in, and turned the horses' heads for home.

"I was sure it was this way," said Algy a short while later, standing up in his stirrups to try and see over the hedge into the next field. "But I definitely don't remember passing that big tree stump."

Bertie, further down the boundary, gave a holler and pointed through a small gap in the hedge.

"There we are! I can see the stable yard clock, just the other side of that park."

"So it is," Algy agreed, joining Bertie and following his pointing finger with his eyes. "The question is, how do we get there from here? It's a good couple of miles back round through the woods, and I don't fancy jumping this monster." He looked doubtfully at the hedge.

"There's a lower section just along there, old bean. Can't be any more than four feet, or I'm a Frenchman. I'm sure old Nelson here has one last campaign in him." Bertie patted the horse's neck lovingly.

"All right, if you say so," Algy replied. "Lead on, Macduff."

fear

a sort of AU fic that I desperately want to get finished, in which von Stalhein gets a glimpse of his future

Without asking, he knew where he was; it was what he had always feared, and what he supposed had always awaited him: an unmarked grave in some unknown province, unvisited and unmourned. He made to back away further, tripped over something solid half-hidden in the undergrowth, and almost fell. He crouched to examine it, and saw that his assessment of the grave as unmarked had not been strictly correct. Thrust into the ground was a rust-spotted bayonet, instantly recognisable to his well-trained eye as a British pattern from the Great War. Von Stalhein looked from the bayonet to Lacey.

"You did this," he said. A statement, not a question, but Lacey nodded anyway. "With that?" von Stalhein gestured at the bayonet. He had no idea why he was asking, for the knowledge of his own demise would bring him no solace, but he felt compelled. Lacey shook his head and gave what looked like a snort of amusement. For a moment, it was as though von Stalhein could read his mind.

Tagging anyone who wants to get involved! Your words are: wait, link, basket, hard, caught

[pinkskytwst]

This will be my last response as well.

I would first like to apologize if I came off too aggressive. It wasn't my intent to make people struggling with mental illness or access to fewer resources (like the both of us apparently) to feel targeted or like they are not allowed to vent. If it came off that way I apologize.

The problem for me is that there is a growing tendency (especially in fandom) for people to rely on others to control their internet spaces. The people that I was responding to are the ones in the comments talking about are the ones berating a writer for not doing this. This is placing the responsibility of their safety on others and laying guilt for them not doing something to 'keep them safe'. It's the same sentiment as people who try to argue that certain fics shouldn't be allowed at all because someone COULD come across them and get hurt. That is a dangerous mindset and while yes, some of these reactions are supposed to be funny as a writer and someone who goes out of my way to ensure that I ONLY experience what I can handle on the internet, it feels like an attack when I post fics but then see people make comments like ''people must learn or be waterboarded'.

like, no, that is not a joke. I tag my fics but I have also had people come into my comments for not putting ENOUGH tags for them that were about content I didn't even realize I should have been tagging for. They then went to spread angry gossip about me here on tumblr and I had to eventually delete my whole account and start over because it got so bad and that is why this account is so young. I had to delete my old AO3 account as well and I can't reupload my work because it would let them know it's me. I didn't upload anything for a good while because I felt like maybe I really was hurting people by not tagging everything and I didn't want to do that but I also didn't want to be harassed again.

I didn't even want to bring this up because I don't want to use it as a sympathy card. It was my decisions to delete my old account and move on.

So I get the frustration, I really do. And I honestly do hope that tagging is something that continues and get better.

But people have to realize that meme's like this? 'jokes' like this. Expecting every author to tag?

No one has a right to DEMAND that from an author. Acting like they're not doing enough 'it just takes a couple of minutes!' places guilt on them and blame that states you expect them to do this for you when the reality is they don't HAVE to even be posting their stuff at all. They aren't getting anything out of this. *I* do not get money out of posting fics and at most get like three comments per fic (which is awesome! and I love them for letting me know what they think!) but I'm not entitled to their comments either. I know that it's NICE for them to and it's NICE for people to tag and to make curating things like this easier on everyone.

If I brought an argument to a post that it was not intended for, I apologize, I didn't realize that I had to locate a 'proper' post to voice my opinion on.

But this kind of stuff?

This makes authors not want to even post their work at all. Because we're worried that we'll offend someone or not tag well enough or get attacked for some 'moral degeneracy' that the person doesn't agree with about A WORK OF FICTION.

It's exhausting and I'm not the only author that I know who has struggled with this. I was having to talk with a friend of mine online through her crying because someone claimed that a part of her fic was supporting incest and she should not risk anyone seeing it that has suffered from trauma of incest. It was specifically in the summary and the title illuded to it (and she even had the general incest tag) but because she didn't have a clarifying incest of sisterxbrother on it they left a frankly disgusting attack on her.

That's where I'm coming from.

I'm coming from the point of view of an author who is getting nothing for my creative work but is having to now existing in an online community that demands even more from me and even when I get it right many times I get it wrong. It's exhausting and stressful. People who post creative work online do it because they love writing/art. I want tagging to continue so that people can safely find that free writing and art that people are putting out for them.

But no one has a right to blame/shame/guilt someone for not tagging their work that they are getting nothing back from. Tagging HAS to be something that a writer choses to do on their own because if people keep blaming them for not 'tagging properly' or 'tagging enough' it goes from 'it only takes a moment and it's obvious to show what gender the reader is' to the entitled voice picking at creators for not ensuring that THIER online space isn't exactly how they want it. People have to realize that they can't expect anyone else to protect them but themself. Expecting someone else to do it for you is going to leave you vulnerable and lead to artists (who 99% of the time have absolutely no malicious intent) the target of hate and guilt.

So, yeah, that's what I was trying to get across and if it still isn't I'm sorry. I truly don't mean to make people who need tags to feel guilty for needing tags (I need them too!). But it's hard to not respond when people lash out at authors for something that isn't their responsibility in the first place.

It will just make authors stop sharing their work. It won't be worth the hate we get back.

So yes, clearly we are not making any progress or having a constructive discussion so I think it's best if we leave it here. I hope you have a good day/night. <3

Like and reblog if you can relate to this:

[icharchivist]

if it makes anyone feel any better spray cheese is pretty much just cheddar that's been softened using whey and canola oil so that it can come out of a nozzle and not some strange amalgamation of unnatural chemicals the way some people think it is. it's still weird and pretty much unseen outside of america but its composition isn't any more strange than most snack foods--

lmaoooo it's okay no worries

i mostly played up my imaginary disgust because people tag me in those things and well, i am a clown who aims to please and make people laugh. I genuinely don't actually care.

Cheddar is not really an usual cheese in France though, we have some in store because of American foods like hamburger or hot dog having popularized it enough, but that's about it and about as rarely as you'll see it. When i was a kid (wayyy before internet bridged a lot of cultural gaps) i remember people being offended that it was even called cheese, but it's an outrage i haven't seen in the last two decades of my life.

It is considered a subpar cheese, because we're a cheese loving nation (and i know personally it makes me feel a little sick) but not nearly as outrageous as many non-french think it is.

and i watched enough American movies to know about the spray cheese. Some movies i watched when i was a kid were showing those off and at first i thought it was whipped cream because that's the sort of package our whipped creams come into. And then i saw it was yellow and it was no fucking way. and then i grew up just shrugging it off as this type of "the fatal American need to have a pretty good time". Like, knock yourself out, to each their own.

Every culture approach food differently, there's no right or wrong way, and French people don't have the monopoly on cheese and what a right cheese is.

a bit more salt though,

ngl a lot of memes and jokes about French culture and language (which aren't directly linked to our history or politics) tend be strawmen argument of stereotypes some people exported elsewhere in the world from behaviors decades ago and/or behaviors from Parisians. (and if you don't know the rest of France have beef with Parisians, so a lot of time this is eyeroll worthy even for literally anywhere else in France.). or of the upper class and chasers.

Honestly the jokes grew old to me after like one decade, but complaining about it is completely pointless, this is mid irritation at best and the few times i rolled my eyes at some way ppl interpreted French stuff on here i had people asking me to answer for French colonization crimes in my comment (which, as someone who's both parents aren't even fully french and who suffered from said history, feels exhausting to me, i don't want to come up with a disclaimer of how France is bad everytime i'm tired of a lame joke)

Also like. not against you in particular nonny but Americans also kinda have the habit of projecting how much they don't know about others countries on how other countries might not know American culture as if Americanization wasn't one of the biggest social impact of the modern era and as if many countries' popculture isn't shapped from American medias nowadays. Bc yeah like i said, this type of things is stuff i've seen in movies since i'm a kid and just thought "oh so that's just an American thing, okay" and moved on with my life.

(also i have a diploma in USA&UK History, Literature, Culture and Linguistic, and have been on American platform blending in for the past 15 years. There's stuff that will always escape my knowledge because sometimes there's niche stuff no one realize they have to explain, or things will never get the depth they need that way, but, more often than not, I Am Aware.)

so i just take the L, the curse of being French, it's not like there's any right way to answer to that except that just "ahah right we're so silly", the French are the last people you'd want to defend.

and if my friends want to tag me into french jokes i'm just going to play it up for the bit. I don't care enough about whenever the joke is accurate or not or whenever it even matters, but i do care about playing along with my friends and hopefully making them smile.

so don't mistake my humble clowning as anything other than that ahah.

No harm done though i do appreciate you wanted to explain! but. yeah really i'm good lmao

[nonelvis]

fic meme responses to most questions from the last post, long enough that it needs a cut

— How long have you been writing fanfiction? I went back and checked the date on my first drabble, and holy shit, I've been doing this for just over 15 years?!?

— Do you have a favorite word? (One that you love. Doesn’t necessarily have to be one you use all the time.) "Moist"

I kid, I kid, but anyway, this is an impossible question to answer, because so many words are so entertaining to say and write. Persnickety! Onomatopoeia! Elementary!

— Share a favorite run-on sentence that you’ve written. I have a lot of fic and a fair number of (deliberate) run-ons because they're great for pacing, especially in sex scenes, so remembering which fics have them is actually a little tough! But here's one I found in a Ten/Missy story:

“You must really be hard up for it if you’ve come looking for me,” the Doctor had said, or “if you really want a consolation prize now that I’ve beaten you, we could try the lucky dip at the funfair,” while the Master had cut deeper: “You’re still the weak-willed Academy washout you always were, or you wouldn’t be here,” and once, “Remember how this feels, because I’m going to do it to Martha Jones when I find her.”

— Share a bit of a scene that you’ve written that still gives you FEELS. This paragraph from my Handy/alt!Ace fic will always get me:

Whenever he sees her, he recalls a past that was his, yet wasn't, and was never hers. Nostalgia aches where a second heart once beat. He can, and does, share stories with Rose, but Rose knows what it's like to travel with him; Ace doesn't, and never will.

— What is your favorite kind of character interaction to write? Snappy dialogue, especially if there's conflict between the characters. Doctor/Master fic is great for this.

— Do you have a hyper-specific genre? I am that person who will take the wacky pairing and run with it. This means I wrote what as far as I can tell is the first Sixth Doctor/Donna story (Teaspoon, AO3); Unicorn Frappuccino/Juicero; Coppy the Tumblr April Fool's gag as service!sub; the first Gritty/Murph the Hasbro mascot fic; Badgey from Star Trek: Lower Decks/Clippy the Microsoft Office assistant fic; and more.

— Any personal or frequently used tags? "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry"

The previous question explains why.

— Share a joke or funny moment that you’ve written that still makes you laugh.

"I could be wrong," the Doctor said, "but I'm fairly certain 'rebound sex' is not one of the five stages of grief."

— Best editing tip? Put your work down for at least 24 hours before editing it, and preferably longer, like a week or two. The urge to post immediately is strong, but IMO you edit with a clearer head if you let things sit.

— What drives you to write? I've always written. I have a degree in it. I've co-written three (non-fiction) books. But I don't always have time or energy to write fiction, which is endlessly frustrating, and if I'm going to write fic, I have to truly be so in love with the source material that I can't get it out of my head.

— What is your biggest challenge in writing? I would kill to write a novel. Unfortunately, I am clearly destined for short stories for the rest of my life.

— What story or scene are you most proud of? This is a really hard one to answer, but I'm very proud of Tangrams, the Handy/Rose/River story it took me several years to write because I couldn't do it until I'd figured out a way for the pairing to work organically. (Teaspoon, AO3)

— Please link your profile so we can admire your works! I run A Teaspoon And An Open Mind, the Doctor Who fanfic archive, so obviously I'm going to link to myself there. But I have fic from other fandoms as well on AO3.