#mostly for my reference when writing fics <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[roomba-mangga]

aspec headcanon nuances for dunmeshi because they're all fascinating

laios - aroace. sexuality is closely entwined with his monster fixation but more of an extension of fascination than actual teratophilia because big same. can't distinguish between platonic and romantic so he can get it alterously. he's more family-oriented than anything. situationship/qpr city over here.

falin - sapphic aro/aroace. comfortable with her sexuality and aromanticism, minimal confusion or angst there, but she's aware of how she doesn't mesh with standard cultural understandings of love/sex and feels that weight at times. she is what she is and does what she does, though—whatever that may be. post-canon, she becomes an in-universe shared aspec/sapphic icon (like artemis) and is the reason dragons are an aspec symbol

marcille - lesbian, not aspec at all, but being in a situationship with the above two is an absolute trip. fairly clueless/repressed about herself atm so ironically it would be up to falin to take the reins there if ever. (funny option: laios breaks it to her no holds barred by using like, lesbian lizard sex as a comparison). navigating the ups and downs of being family/partnered with aspec people 💕

senshi - vanilla ace, possibly aro(spec) too but i can easily see him being alloace. possibly has issues over his orientation being one of those things that renders him unmasculine by dwarven standards.

chilchuck - aro bi family man. has internalized arophobia + biphobia double whammy to work through on that front. cares too much and vilifies himself to an extent but can't confront it.

izutsumi - aroace, may or may not be due to trauma. gray-aspec because of her cat side lmao. she can worry about growing up first.

kabru - can be anything but settling on aroallo as default headcanon, though ace!kabru is utterly delicious character exploration wise. the neurodivergent aspec feeling of "sexuality/romanticism as a form of masking and a supposed means to an end" and all the complications that brings.

mithrun - can be anything, leaning towards alloace. ripe for explorations on how being aspec intersects with trauma, disability, and privilege. get it cunty white dude

thistle - Trans Aromantic Trauma Baby of all time because i relate to him beat for beat and i said so. whereas izutsumi is a traumatized kid who happens to be aroace, thistle embodies aro poc specific trauma to a tee. absolutely fascinating grounds to explore dysfunctional attachment, perceptions of family, and severe mental illness as a young aro person.

yaad - vanilla aroace. maybe it gets a little weird because having someone else's body does that to a person (you know how transitioning can mess with you?) but otherwise standard fare. religious nuance. happy community-oriented old person rep.

[crescenthistory]

Hi Carina! It’s the anon who referred to your fanfics as poetry if you remember lol.

Number 1 I still stand by that and it’s even more enforced after reading your most recent poly!postwar!marauders I was hooked!! And number 2 I finally have a proper request for regulus and whiskers - perhaps some scenario where reader comes to regulus all scratched up and he p a n i c s but treats her (the scratches are from some random student’s pet cat that decided they suddenly wanted that specific patch of sun reader was napping on or something silly like that) and it’s just a mix of fluff and humor?

You totally do not have to do this specific prompt especially if you think of something similar but better, I 100% trust your vision. Also I’d like to be 🧸 anon for future posts if that’s ok with you. Once again thank you for blessing us with your stories and sorry for the long message haha❤️

of course i remember, that is my favourite compliment to date 😭 all i want is for my writing to be considered poetry, thank you so much. i'll add you to the list as 🧸 anon my love, feel free to share your age and pronouns too<333

Words: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, light injuries, some blood, physical and emotional hurt/comfort, established relationship, mentioned bsf!sirius, idiots in love, like literal soulmates, some cat telepathy bc i can lmao

A/N: more of whiskers and shadow can be found starting with this fic ! the cat pictured below is @nrthernsong's sweet Echo who is my whiskers faceclaim, exactly how I picture her<33

Regulus heard that something was wrong before he saw it.

The past hour had been spent on the sofa closest to the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, alternating between lazily reading his current paperback and dozing off. You had grown restless and given him a sweet forehead kiss before whisking out the door, assumedly to run out your leftover energy chasing mice and climbing walls. The mere thought made him smile, but he was far too comfortable to join you, and you were sleeping over in his dorm tonight anyway.

He figured it was no harm; he enjoyed knowing that you were doing your own thing and would be coming back to him. That you were such a fully realised person with your own desires, impulses, life and friends – even if one of those friends had to be his very own brother. That you were such a remarkable individual and kept choosing him every day, with every ounce of that self. It was as good a way as any to spend the evening.

That was, until he heard the desperate clawing of familiar paws against the stone common room door.

Apart from his usual doomsday gut feeling, he found it strange that you weren’t transforming back into yourself to open the door and walk in. Though, he told himself, you clearly could not transform in the still half-filled room, and perhaps you just wanted to remain in cat form without giving your animagus status away. Yet, your scratching seemed almost fervent, even over the sounds of chatter and laughter, which told another story.

Regardless of why, Regulus shot up out of his seat from the second he registered the noise as coming from you, hurrying across the floor. A wave of dizziness hit him from how fast he went from a reclining to borderline-sprinting position, but he pushed it down without a second thought.

When he opened the common room door and a white and grey figure sped in past him at an unbelievable speed, he realised what the problem was. 

Because your usually beautiful, fluffy fur was ruffled all about and there were distinct streaks of redness across it. The blood was striking against the already blinding white, and Regulus could not fight the way his breath hitched. 

“Amour,” he all but hissed, speed walking after you to where you had hid away in the first available corner.

Despite remaining mostly aware of your human self, once you were in your animagus form, certain animalistic tendencies took over. It was how you were able to communicate so efficiently through hisses and pets, but also why in states of panic, you would seek out physical shelter to hide beneath rather than coming to him for protection and comfort like you otherwise would.

Uncaring of how he looked running after a cat and murmuring to it as if it was a person, Regulus followed you, crouching down on his knees before you when you hid beneath an armchair against the wall. He couldn’t see you well in the darkness, but he did see a pair of yellow eyes shine out at him, so stunning that the fear in them should be illegal.

“Mon amour.” Regulus decided to forgo any reservations, and laid down on his stomach with his cheek against the floor so that he could be face to face with you. “Darling, what happened to you? Are you alright?”

The whimpering sound you made shot straight through his heart, drawing a rather pathetic coo from him.

You curled further up into yourself. Regulus inched his hand forward so that it was close to your face, but you made no move to butt your head against it like you usually would. Your eyes seemed to be pleading with him, but in this form, Regulus couldn’t read you as well.

In this form.

Regulus suddenly knew what he had to do.

Before that though, he retracted his hand in favour of letting his fingers curl around his wand. He brought it up to rest before you, slowing his movements down so as to not alert you in this frightened state. Even in a moment like this, you still trusted him entirely, and only blinked slowly at him while you shivered. He brought the tip of his wand up to rest just above your red spots.

“I’ll make it better, amour, I swear,” he mumbled, almost as if to himself. With a light graze and two whispered incantations, Regulus spelled away whatever shallow scratches you had across your beautiful fur and cleaned up the blood that had stained you so unjustly. 

Though he could not be certain, he thought he heard a sigh escape you. This time, when he put his wand down, you leaned your patterned forehead down against his fingertips. Worry was still clouding most of his mind, but his lips did twitch at the sentiment.

“I’m not leaving you.” He declared before saying anything else, not wanting fear to take over you once more. “Just stay right there, lovely, and I’ll be right back for you.”

Regulus almost stumbled when he pushed himself up onto his feet and near-sprinted up towards his dorm, taking the stairs three steps at a time. If you were startled, he could neither see nor hear it, and fully intended to soothe you in a mere moment.

The second he was out of sight of any other students, Regulus twirled into his own animagus form, Shadow.

At this new level of elevation and with the animalistic instincts taking over him, Regulus felt the wave of concern spark in him anew. While he could sense when he spelled away your injuries that they were not serious, the thought of you scared ached throughout him. On speedy onyx legs, he leaped back down the stairs with just one thought swimming through his mind.

Amour, amour, amour.

You must have smelled Shadow on his way to you, because even before he saw you, he picked up on the keening noise you made at the approach of your mate. 

Still sheltered carefully beneath the armchair, you were perched up on your front paws, staring eagerly towards where Shadow was pouncing towards you. This time, you let him slip beneath the seat and into your hiding place without any hesitation. On the contrary, you made space for him, and as soon as he was within reach, you curled up against him, hiding away.

With your face burrowed into Shadow’s furry neck, he could finally feel you sigh out in relief, any tension and fear seeping out of you. It was exactly what he had been hoping for, exactly what he wanted, no needed to accomplish.

Your love was true in any form, but the connection the two of you shared in animagus form was different from anything Regulus could even think to communicate through words. He had yet to find any relevant literature on animagi explaining the bonding experience you had in animagus form, but perhaps this was one of the things in his life that Regulus didn’t need to intellectualise.

Instead, Shadow curled back up against you, keeping his head over yours in a protective manner as he held you close with his paws. Absentmindedly, he began grooming your fur, placing every strand back down in the correct direction, ridding you of any evidence of whatever tussle you had suffered when roaming the castle. Certain places of your fur seemed to demand more of his attention, and though Regulus could not prove it as he healed and cleaned you up magically earlier, he had a creeping suspicion that was where you had been scratched up. So he didn’t resist it, instead doting on you exactly how he wanted.

Beneath his touch, you were becoming soft and pliant once more, purring loudly and occasionally looking up at him with the yellow eyes he had come to love so. His Whiskers. His amour.

Using the very bond he had no words to explain, Shadow asked you through some odd form of cat communication and animagi telepathy: What happened?

Your grunt and huff communicated what he had feared. Mrs. Norris.

Shadow made a hissing sound directed at your shared menacing nemesis before doubling down on his efforts to soothe you, nudging you over onto your back so that he could groom and kiss along your neck and chest – your most vulnerable areas in cat form, showing you just how safe you were now. 

This was part of what occasionally living as a cat entailed, but Regulus would be damned if he did not care for you as if it was a tragedy each and every time. Spelling out I love you with every lick and pet and nudge and purr.

Based on the lovely sounds you were making and how you seemed to melt into him until you were one and the same, you loudly claimed I love you too.

Regulus could rest easy with you safe and sound in his hold, content just to have you near him, any anger subdued for as long as he was comforting you. In the meantime, he was dreaming up how a certain big black dog might have a little chat with Mrs. Norris.

[killerlookz]

hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

To Find What Once Was Lost

Warnings: None really. Some angst. Regrets.

Summary: Y/N has found Dean, can she find what they lost when she said goodbye?

Pairings: Dean x Y/N

Word Count: 1250

A/N: So this fic is a sequel to Love Misunderstood. That little drabble was written just over a year ago, and I've been meaning to write this almost ever since.

@paarthurnax59 sent a very kind ask inquiring about a part 2 for them, and I was quickly inspired to write this sequel. It's more than twice as long as the first one - sorry! Couldn't keep this one short and sweet. 😏

Anyway, hope you all enjoy them both!

P.S. For reference, I pictured the first part of the story taking place when Dean was around 22 or 23. (2001/2002 - ish) This one is supposed to take place almost 11 years later, when Dean was 33/34 (2012/2013 - ish.) So around season 8. But there's room for interpretation as your imagination prefers. 😊

The day he stepped back into my life was just an idle Tuesday. I’d spent more than a decade avoiding him one way or another, either by design or by accident. 

Then one Tuesday night in Stedman’s Bar and Grill - there he was, leaning against the bar, swirling a glass of cheap whiskey.

Dean Winchester. 

The boy that I loved without understanding that I did. The boy who told me he loved me just so I could stomp on his heart. The boy I regretted more than any other mistake I’d made, and I’d made a lot of them. 

I stared at him across the room and the first thing I realized was that he wasn't a boy anymore. 

In some ways he still looked exactly the same, the same perfect profile, the same wide, disarming smile, the same jewel-bright green eyes that widened with surprise when they caught mine from across the room. 

But as I stared at him, I saw the differences too. When I’d known him, he’d been tall and muscular, but still a little lanky, as though he hadn’t quite grown into his size yet, like a puppy.

Now, he’d definitely achieved his full potential. His body was thick and broad, sturdy, like an oak tree - one that had weathered years and years of storms.

As he walked slowly towards me, his glass of whiskey in hand, I could see the changes in his face too. He was still inordinately beautiful - there was something almost surreal about that kind of beauty - but there was a warning in his eyes now, a set to his mouth that was harder. His smile was more cautious, less automatic.

He approached my table and my heart beat wildly. Then he spoke and I realized another big change.

“Hey, Y/N, long time no see.”

Like the rest of him, his voice had matured, deepened significantly. It was rougher, harder. But it had also gained the power to make an electric shiver run up my spine.

I tried to remember how to smile, as I greeted him. “Yeah, a long time. How…how are you?”

He shrugged and gestured to the chair across from me, questioning. I gave a nod. “Yeah, please, sit.”

He sat down and took a sip from his glass. “I’m good. You?”

I laughed lightly, nervously. “Well, over the last ten years or so?” I tilted my head. “Mostly okay.”

He frowned. “Hasn’t been ten years.”

I nodded. “You’re right, closer to eleven.”

I saw realization slowly dawn in his eyes and I chuckled. “Yeah.”

A charged silence descended and I knew we were both remembering that last meeting. I knew my memory of it was shrouded in regret and pain. How did he remember it?

As the time that bitch ripped his heart out? Puppy love for an unremarkable and undeserving girl? Or was his memory of me muted and fuzzy around the edges? 

Was I just a distant memory he had trouble accessing? 

I wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t. Because what if I told him I remembered everything about our time together, that I remembered the way he smelled when he was fresh out of the shower, that I still make grilled cheese sandwiches the way he taught me, that I can’t listen to Nothing Else Matters because it makes me cry to remember the way he held me pressed close to him in the back of the Impala while it played softly over the radio.

What if I told him all those things and he remembered nothing, or he remembers and doesn’t care, remembers and curses my name, remembers and knows he dodged a bullet.

The endless what ifs kept my mouth sealed tight.

He cleared his throat. “So, still hunting?”

I nodded, grateful for the conversational lifeline. “Yeah, still at it. You too, from what I hear.” I smiled. “Thanks for uh…saving the world.”

He snorted softly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Yeah, no problem. Nothin’ else to do that day.”

I grinned. “Well, good thing.”

His smile softened slightly, and he sighed deeply. “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

I returned the soft smile. “Dean Winchester.”

In the renewed silence I heard a distant alarm bell going off in the back of my mind. For years I’d wanted the chance to tell him I was sorry, that I regretted hurting him, that he wasn’t wrong, it was love between us, that I’d been a fool. 

And now my mouth was sealed shut. But I was the one who did the hurting, and even though Dean was the one who walked out the door, I was the one who ended what we had. So, I had to be the one to speak first. 

With determination and terror I pried open my jaw and let my cartwheeling thoughts fall out.

“This is probably gonna be stupid and maybe you don’t care, or maybe you don’t wanna hear it, but I need to say I’m sorry.”

Dean was frowning. “No, Y/N-”

But I cut him off. “Please, yes. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long that I was the one who was wrong. I told you you were mistaken, that you didn’t love me, that we didn’t love each other, but I was so wrong. I was just a scared, stupid kid and I’ve regretted hurting you every day since. Because, you did love me, I did love you, it was real. Okay, maybe it was young and untested, but it was real. And…well, I’m just sorry I couldn’t understand that then.”

My voice got quiet. “I think about you a lot, and I always hope you’re well, happy.” I looked at him, my expression turning the statement into a question, and he just shrugged.

“I’ve been happy.” He paused a beat and then scoffed. “Been miserable and scared and broken, and stomped on quite a bit too.” He answered with a lopsided, heartbreaking smile. “But yeah, I’ve been happy.”

He caught my eye. “I’m happy now.”

My heart grew and thumped against my ribcage and I couldn’t help the tears that came to my eyes. I blinked them away and reached across the table to put my hand on his, smiling wide. “I’m happy too.”

He shook his head, inhaling deeply, and exhaling slowly. “Man, I’ll tell you one thing - I missed that smile.”

I felt myself blush and Dean chuckled and winked. “Missed making you blush too.”

I waved away his flirtations, though they made my pulse race, and I gave him a serious look. “Do you accept my apology? Forgive me?”

Dean’s face was gentle now, closer to the soft boy I remembered, though still forever altered. “Yeah, sweetheart. Long time ago. Life’s too short and mean to hold on to old hurts.”

A shy smile turned up the corner of his mouth and he stared into his whiskey. “Still think about you lots though too, still…still regret walking away.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re right, gotta let go of those regrets.”

He looked back up at me and nodded. “Yeah, and maybe…?” 

I got lost in the forest of his eyes for a moment, but then raised an eyebrow in question. “Maybe…what?”

He shrugged, his expression sheepish. “Maybe start making new memories instead?”

There was a familiar warmth in his gaze that had goosebumps racing across my skin and the blush back in my cheeks.

“Yeah, definitely, new memories, new chances?”

He raised his glass of whiskey and winked at me again. “I’ll drink to that.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[eiimeixi]

bokuaka headcanons but it's mostly me projecting onto them bc i love them with my whole heart and soul

bokuto doesn't speak for a short time when he wakes up (i'd like to say he goes nonverbal but i'm not too sure if i understand what it means enough to say it)

bokuaka watches stranger things together and [SPOILERS TO THOSE WHO HAVEN'T WATCHED STRANGER THINGS S4 OR ST AT ALL]

^^ bokuto BAWLED during eddie's death and akaashi wrote steddie fics to console bokuto <33 (FIC WRITER AKAASHI AND BOKUTO HIS BETA READER AND TARGET AUDIENCE, THE CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!)

bokuto also screamed during the steddie scenes and bokuaka are steddie shippers don't change my mind

akaashi's parents are divorced (woah that's a 180) but they still love him (or, in his perspective, claim to but really they just don't know how to show it properly which is also one of the reasons their marriage failed lmao) and they work 9 to 5's so akaashi's almost always alone at home

akaashi writes poems and fics about bokuto (bokuto x reader bc he's delusional) and bokuto doesn't know about it (has seen a few of the poems bc akaashi's stupid and leaves it displayed on his desk but doesn't know they're about him--not that he can read it anyway)

akaashi's normal handwriting is barely legible because it's rushed cursive. like you seriously have to take the time to understand the pattern in his writing (aaannndd i just remembered that in japan you have to have neat handwriting to read the letters properly. IMAGINE THIS WOULD BE HIS HANDWRITING IN ENGLISH ALPHABET)

akaashi also likes to do traditional calligraphy!!! (now when i first made this headcanon i didn't realize calligraphy in "english" and calligraphy in japan were ENTIRELY different BUT PLEASE let me have this one or he could do both)

akaashi's favorite ink color is gold because it reminds him of bokuto's eyes but bokuto's favorite ink color are those dark teal green shades (seek reference: diamine's teal or aurora borealis or pilot ink's syo-ro) that remind him of akaashi's eyes (coincidentally those are also my favorite)

AKAASHI LISTENS TO CIGARETTES AFTER SEX (CAS) AND LOVES EVERY SONG BUT SPECIFICALLY "Heavenly" IS HIS FAVORITE FAVORITE BECAUSE IT'S THE FIRST SONG HE LISTENED TO (did you guys know i actually got this from a wattpad fanfic i read a few years back and they linked a youtube playlist [which i forgot to save🙁 but it was my first exposure of cas and look at me now i'm obsessed] that was supposed to be akaashi's playlist)

akaashi's list of top 3 favorite cas songs: 1. Heavenly 1.5. the entirety of I., Apocalypse, & Don't Let Me Go 2. Affection, Keep on Loving You, Tejano Blue, & Sweet, Opera House 3. Neon Moon, Stop Waiting, Pistol, Hot, Falling in Love, & You're the Only Good Thing In My Life [disclaimer: this is not my personal list of favorite cas songs as i love them all so much i can't choose]

akaashi secretly likes bl and will take that secret to his grave.

akaashi likes the rain but doesn't like to get wet, he only likes the ambiance and the way the rain sounds. but bokuto loves the rain wholeheartedly (inspired by the official arts where akaashi has to try to get bokuto dry from the rain)

speaking of ^, bokuto doesn't get sick because "if people call me an idiot and idiots can't get sick, then i can't get sick!" (one of his sisters told him that)

i could probably go on but this is getting so long my laptop's tweaking

[johnslittlespoon]

summarizing my wips badly!

tagged by @nicijones tysm i'm so late!! <33 p.s. usually i write oneshots inspired by song lyrics or i have a title in mind going into them, but most of my wips are unnamed atm so these placeholders are subject to change :^) also these are all buckbucky and the last one is curtbucky mwah!

You're A Dog (I'm Your Man): When your friend refers to your best friend as "your dog" and now you can't get it out of your head. You Drag, I Light: Fellas, is it gay to shotgun a joint in a field with your best friend on your day off instead of going to town and dancing with the ladies? (maybe a cont. of my last oneshot idk yet) I'll Be Your Watchman: When you're reunited with your not–lover in a POW camp and you're too scared to sleep for fear of opening your eyes and realizing you dreamt the reunion so you keep watch over them while they sleep and heal. I Laid Down My Arms (The Day You Came Along): 5 times one man seeks out his friend for cuddles/physical touch, and 1 time the roles are reversed. I Let You Win (I Love To Lose): It's probably totally 100% normal to get hard while wrestling with your best friend and not at all a sign of underlying feelings. Angel, Baby (Tell Me A Secret): Tfw you offhandedly mention rimming to your totally straight best friend but now they're in your bed and you're showing instead of telling. I've Got A Bad Desire: TIFU: My best friend who I have feelings for refused to punch me when I was having a mental breakdown but we ended up dry humping each other inside a cockpit instead.

ngl i'm pretty sure i have more wips but these are the ones i've actually got mostly fleshed out in my head & i don't need this to turn into a grocery list of fics so (��‿◠✿)

tagging @curtsbigspoon @mangokittokatsu @magneticghouls @bcolfanfic no pressure!!! i get shy tagging ppl ngl lol <3

[raccoonfallsharder]

hii! i just wanted to say i love your blog sm. your fics are amazing and your fanart as well😩 your work has such a good emotional depth that’s so nice to read/see. you have a way like the movies did of showing the attention to detail with their worlds and other worldly cultures and shit it’s so interesting to read <3. i didn’t know if your taking requests but this was just a random thought that would be so cool to see you write. no pressure ofc but i thought it’d be so cool to see rocket more introduced to like more music/Terran pop culture references😭. i feel like rocket would like goth music like the cure and shit and tbh lady gaga i feel like also😭😭. it’s so cute to think of him getting shown like classic horror and stuff, he’d probably think a lot of them as comedies or shit😭. i jsut had these thoughts to share lol. your writing has me daydreaming i swear <3. i hope you are having a good day <33 : D

you are absolutely the sweetest little bundle of love nonnie. cups of tea, midnight bonfires, and golden autumn leaves. that's you. thank you so much for the kind words. they truly made my last two weeks. and i'm so sorry for the delay - the start of the schoolyear has been kicking my ass to knowhere and back, and then this… got away from me. it’s really unforgivably fucken long for mostly just being a list ~

but i hope you enjoy it anyway ♡♡

oh btw i linked some related headcanons that might interest you at the end!

to be honest i don't think i go through a single commute to or from work without thinking about how rocket would respond to the latest bit of terran culture you're showing him. when he was spending time on terra during the snap, he noticed steve’s little pocket-journal checklist of movies and books and shows to get caught up on. well, he didn’t just notice it — he might’ve maybe possibly swiped it — and once he trusted you enough to know you weren’t gonna fuckin narc on him, he decided to show it to you. he asks questions about the various titles, and steve’s notes scrawled in the margins. the two of you started there.

rocket isn’t quite as prejudiced against actors as many of his fellow guardians, but he does approach the idea of movies and tv with a healthy dose of skepticism. you probably start out with some documentaries, and he loves those. he’s enthralled by the ones about outer space — appreciating what they’ve gotten right and snickering about what they got wrong, getting a little weepy when the narrator makes some poignant philosophical observation. he stares at the screen with something that wrenches at your heart when you turn on the nature docs, those cut-ruby eyes turning into something soft and molten, silvered over with a yearning you’re sure he doesn’t even recognize inside himself.

you might think he’d be a fan of true crime, but no — not unless it’s someone scamming a big corporation or stealing from some hubristic rich bastard, or maybe the occasional murderer who accidentally confesses his crimes on a hot mic. the truth is that rocket’s already personally familiar with some of the worst true crime in the galaxy and he just sort of assumes that’s how things operate at large. why’s he need to watch people talk about?

it’s this kind of thinking that impacts the kind of fictional shows and movies he ends up liking, too — once you finally convince him that acting is more about storytelling, and less about lying or trying to wear someone else’s skin. you’d think he’d be super-into horror but he’s very — selective about it. murderers, slashers, and body horror (especially of the medical variety) are not in his wheelhouse. he gets anxious in the worst sort of way: impatiently twitching on the couch next to you, chewing on his claws. he rolls his eyes but his shoulders stay tense and his tail is puffs up three times it’s normal size. he might occasionally snort and scoff at how fake things look but again, that’s only because he knows.

and he wishes he didn’t.

supernatural horror is much more palatable to him, and alien-based horror is usually hilarious as far as he’s concerned. space dramas and adventures have an unpredictable impact. he says star wars is too dramatic (wild coming from someone who has since decided he loves reality dating shows) and gets weirdly emotional about star trek. and you have to repeatedly remind him that neither the aliens franchise nor killer clowns from outer space are documentary series (he has some weird hang-ups about terran clowns and will dryly tell you that he’s pretty sure they’ve tried to kill him in another life). he’s extremely and overly fascinated by some of the weirder terran horror and horror-adjacent media: cult classics from the 80s and 90s, Tales from the Crypt, Twilight Zone — some of those weird old fantasy movies too, like the labyrinth and company of wolves. you always indulge him, trying to remind him of what’s fiction and what’s not, and what loosely straddles the line of being based on a true story (even though sometimes you have to fight with the urge to roll your eyes when he points at the screen and says, no, that’s real, i been to a planet like that!).

you learn he has an uncanny eye for CGI. looks weird, he grunts every time something rendered crosses the screen. very into practical effects, though. he spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make a claymation sequence of the collapse of ego — the living planet, that is; not some great philosophical metaphor — and took over your kitchen for two months to do it. you’d expected him to get bored of it quickly, but you’d misunderstood just how fixated he’d been. he’d stopped taking pete’s comms for the entire last three weeks and had barely slept at all till it had been done.

he’s equally selective about games. classic shooters bore him — why bother when you can go do the real thing with any despot-of-the-week? — but he kind of loves cozy games. he enjoys horror games as long as they follow his horror movie rules, too — minimal lifeform-on-lifeform torture, heavy on the supernatural or other weirdness. poppy’s playtime is a current fave. he loves dnd, of course. once he figures out the mechanics he always wants to dm because he’s got more control issues than a freighter full of ravagers, but you haven’t missed the fact that that he’s got a recurring favorite character that he pulls out regardless of which side of the dm screen he’s on — a shockingly wise and kind aquatic sorceress named lylla, with the gentlest healing vibes. it rattles you the first time he plays her — so at odds with his normal snark — but you decide it’s just his way of letting his soft side shine through when he normally tries to hide it under prickly defensiveness.

it might surprise you (or maybe not), but he’s far less picky about music, to be honest. sure, he’s got preferences — certain songs he’ll play on repeat, or jam out to, or weep over. but he’s just as excited to clone a taylor swift record as he is to get his hands on some iron maiden. he’s got something surprisingly positive to say about every single song you ask after.

that one’s real catchy, he’ll say, bopping along to dolly’s 9 to 5 — only to then croon his way through the lingering notes of jolene. then the next time you see him he’s asking how he can secure more tupac albums.

he gets all teary-eyed over the sweeping strings of sometime around midnight, then later tilts his head, ears flickering, to drink in the light starlit notes of single acoustic guitars and lonely pianos. he’s as greedy for 90s grunge as he is for screamo and post-rock. sometimes he steals your phone and it’s usually just to download a nirvana album you once had him listen to, but just last week you realize he’d blown a sizable portion of your grocery budget by buying the entire babymetal discography.

he explains it to you one late autumn evening when you’re in your room with him, introducing him to seventeen seconds. the two of you are just chilling. he’s traded in his jumpsuit for the kids’ sweatpants and the hoodie you bought him — the one with the ears — and of course you very wisely don’t tell him how stupidly cute it is. the sun’s going down and the room is slanting and pooling with blue-and-gold shadows slowly deepening into purple, and you’ve lit a couple caramel-apple candles for the vibe. maybe you’ve got mugs of warm spiced apple cider or cocoa or something. he’s sprawled on the rug on your floor and you’re leaning over the edge of the bed, with the entire musical archive of the cure, woven liberally with a random joy division album, some merciful nuns, and other collections from your personal library of favorites.

he’s super-into it, of course.

this sound is somethin’ else, he tells you as he stares up at the shadows. The candlelight is reflecting off some unknown surface in your room, casting flecks of fractured light across the deepening dark of the ceiling. his blunted claws tap a steady rhythm on the floor beside him.

you say that about every song, you tell him drily, and he shrugs.

but i mean it, he tells you in the gold-flickering darkness. there’s a long silence, and you think he’s just listening to the music — but halfway through dope, he suddenly breaks his silence.

i ain’t exactly the most emotionalistically-intelligent, he says quietly into the room. don’t trust myself to know when someone’s good or bad. there was a guy, when i was a kid — well. anyway. it’s frickin hard to trust anybody, myself most of all.

you wait to see if he’ll go on — but he doesn’t. at least not till you say, i get that. there’s good people out there, but the worst are usually so good at tricking us. and then it’s easy to second-guess ourselves — forever.

from the corner of your eye, you see him nod emphatically.

not in music, though, he says quietly. you hear him swallow — painfully hard. i think — music’s when people tell you most about what they are. even when it’s hard to understand at first. when there ain’t any words.

you tilt your head, allowing him the privacy of not looking directly at him. instead, you study the flickering candlelight and shadow, painting amber and dark-velvet patterns on the ceiling. that’s why you like every song? you ask at last.

that swallow again, hard as a rock in his throat. i dunno. maybe it means something, when someone gives a part of ‘emselves like that. to you — a stranger. just — serve themselves up like a gift for your judgement.

ah, you think. the vulnerability.

as if he’d heard you, he snorts. me personally? i’d never risk it.

even now, you can feel him watching you uneasily from the corner of his eye — waiting for you to mock him, maybe. but you only hum an agreeable note.

i never thought of it that way, you admit, but it’s true. you smile at the ceiling. and you said you weren’t emotionally intelligent.

he huffs, but the sound is more relieved than annoyed. i ain’t, he snipes. and then — more tentatively — maybe that’s part of it too.

you feel your eyebrows raise, but you still don’t look his way — cradling the back of your head with your hands while the music continues in around you, and smell of warm caramel apples fills the soft shadows between you. what do you mean?

softer now — almost nervous — he confesses to the darkness and the gold light and the sound of lady gaga’s voice. every time i listen to a new song, s’like I find something in myself i didn’t have before. or didn’t know i had before. or that i thought had died.

your heart stills in your chest and your breath catches, and everything in you suddenly aches. before you can say a word — before you can think — he spits a scoff into the air.

never mind. i was kidding. that’s fuckin’ stupid—

no, you interrupt quickly, and it takes everything in you not to turn over and catch his eyes and hold them. not to reach out and hold his hands, because you know he’s not willing to accept that level of comfort.

not yet. but soon.

so instead, you make your voice into the softest thing you’ve ever imagined. no sharp edges, no corners to cut himself on. just downy well-worn blankets and soft crumpled love-notes, happy welcome homes and the warm caramel of autumn apples. you will it go wrap around him and give him all the comfort he won’t let himself accept any other way.

no, you repeat. i get that.

i get that.

headcanons & imagines masterlist | navigation | fanfiction masterlist

related headcanons: rocket's movie & television tastes ✶ what if rocket finds the mcu movies? ✶ music and rocket & adam, pete & jason ✶ rocket & coloring ✶ rocket & origami ✶ rocket & lava lamps ✶ rocket & sudoku, crosswords & word-searches ✶ rocket & hanayama puzzles ✶ rocket sings

raccoon & star dividers by @/thecutestgrotto support banners by @/saradika-graphics

[campbyler]

i have so many things i want to say about everything but i do remember the moment where mike (playfully) accused will of lying and it makes so much more sense now i thought he was just being smug as hell like “oh ofc you would’ve kissed me two months ago i am just that spectacular” but no. i’m sorry for doubting you michael you DEFINITELY had grounds for that claim. out of focus eye to eye kidnapped my firstborn and left a changeling in its place. lives were ruined in the best possible way.

exactlyyyyy you get it! the way you worded this ask actually made me want to make a little note about why we wrote the reference in, because it was very intentional and there were a couple different reasons for it which i think are both very important !! (but obviously could not mention here before out of focus dropped)

1. obviously it was a Reference, in that we thought this is a big enough piece of lore that it would be weird for it to never ever come up even once, but the whole idea of the companion fic was that it kind of has an ambiguous ending and even mike was not super duper 100000% sure of will’s intentions (due to the #inebriation). so it was unlikely at this point in their dynamic that they were going to have a real fleshed out conversation about it because it would definitely need both of them to be vulnerable in a way they were Not ready to be at the time (will admitting to wanting to kiss mike/mike admitting to having wanted to be kissed? noooo way). mike is kind of testing the waters here (and being annoying on purpose) but from his pov will either still does not remember or does remember but does not want to talk about it, so it doesn’t really go anywhere anyway. but alsoooooo

2. another remnant of the post ch05 era specifically was a lot of people commenting things along the lines of “omg mike is being so flirty” “where did that confidence come from” etc etc which is so true bc poor will got absolutely blindsided by it and it was so fun to write but!! the idea also is that half it was that confidence boost you get after realizing that someone is also into you/attracted to You and i think mike would’ve taken that and ran with it for sureee (esp bc will initiated the ch04 kiss And the ch05 morning kiss mostly) and the other half was mike having information that the readers and will both did not have! a majorrrrrrrr driving force of acswy is the fact that neither of them are ever working with All of the information, hence the unreliable narration, hence the drama and history and them both being so annoying and unserious, etc etc etc. i think that’s important to keep in mind, especially now that we’re in the ch09 era where their dynamic has shifted pretty drastically since their rivals era in the beginning, or even chapters 04/05. 😗😗😗

i’m actually very glad no one Really picked up on this being a Thing when ch07 dropped bc it was supposed to be super subtle (obviously a couple people said 🤨 am i missing something? and we said No 😌) but the reactions we’re getting now have been incredibly fulfilling and have been just what we were hoping to get, which tells us we are writing this story right! sorry for ruining your life and the changeling baby but thank you sooo much for the lovely ask <33

[bleachbleachbleach]

For one of the fanfic memes :D :

2.How do you react to positive comments?

4. Post a screenshot of one of your favorite comments

15. What fic of yours would you most like to rewrite?

33. Which of your fic titles is your favorite?

Aahhh, thank you for these!! I didn't actually reblog this meme (just the responses someone gave me when I sent in an ask for theirs), but I will *happily* take the opportunity to play, anyway, any time! <333

2. How do you react to positive comments?

I do this for any comment or kudos/like I get, but: I’ll click through on the person’s username and look at their page and their fics (if applicable—usually it isn’t), profile, bookmarks, etc. to try to learn more about who they are (and perhaps find things for me to read, too).

I re-read the comment multiple times over the course of multiple days, maybe even a dozen times, depending on how much there is to take in, by which point I probably have portions of it memorized.

I reply to comments to say thank you and to revel in the opportunity to have a small blorbo and/or craft conversation with the person, because that’s what I wish fandom were like alllllll the time, but it’s actually mostly not. So I try to do as much as I can with the moment!

4. Post a screenshot of one of your favorite comments I’ll forego any comments I’ve received from anyone on Tumblr who might see this post, though I treasure them and love them dearly. <333 But a comment that’s stuck in mind wasn’t even a comment someone gave to me or wrote directed at me, or ever wrote a me-directed version of.

There used to be a fandom convention of having large anonymous forums where people would talk fandom together anonymously, including fanworks. (I guess the modern-day equivalent here is private Discord servers, which are even more inaccessible, rip.) These threads could be pretty brutal, because they were anonymous people addressing other anonymous people and not thinking about the author at all—but they could also be the most interesting, because it was clear people involved in the discussion were actively reading and interpreting and critiquing. They were really giving your work their time.

My thread for this particular fic was 50/50 in terms of positive/negative reactions, but this comment was the first one in the thread that was positive, and it’s stayed with me for over a decade now:

15. What fic of yours would you most like to rewrite? Having waded back through that comment thread, jesus, that one, I guess! But not really. I’d just write another fic (and have, in fact, gone one to write 13 more years of fics for those characters—when I wrote that one, I was a year or two into writing fics for them).

I feel like fics belong to their specific time and place, and end up being imbued so closely with whatever flavor my life is at the time and whatever experiential details of my life are staying with me that to rewrite would be a different fic, anyway. I remember those highways and those watermelon cookies and moving in the middle of writing this fic and sitting in a towering forest of cardboard boxes eating cereal straight out of the box because that’s the only food that was unpacked.

33. Which of your fic titles is your favorite? Fic titles are interesting, because they’re a piece of the fic that rarely has any use? I can’t refer to a fic by title and expect most people to know what I’m talking about, because that would require a general audience to have familiarity with my writing, or to have read it. So I usually just describe the fic rather than use its name, if occasion comes up to talk about it. So a fic title is at its most functional for me in the AO3 kudos email, where the litmus test is “do I know which fic this kudos is for, based on its title.” The answer is generally yes, even though I have a fic titled "Instructions" AND a fic titled "Instruction," and a fic titled "Gone Fishing" AND a fic titled "Gone Fishin’"… (In my defense... different randoms/different pseudonyms!!)

Even though I do it a lot I don’t really like it when I use titles of already-existing media, or song lyrics, or single-word titles, though often the referentiality is the point and why I liked the title enough to use it. I do really like double entendre titles. Going back through all my titles on AO3, this morning I’m really liking:

Clutch, Bite — because who doesn’t love VERBS, especially such visceral ones. But it’s the title of a fic about violent grief and also learning how to drive stick shift, so I love the additional reference to a clutch’s “bite point.”

Set and March — I’ve talked about this title before, but I like it because the fic is a tag to an episode titled “Game Night” and I think the title-play is clever, haha.

This is a ghost story / This is not a ghost story — These titles were just funny to me because they were two fairly unrelated fics I posted on the same day and they were both ghost stories.

That Were — which is a line from already-existing media, but it’s such a deep cut of a line I feel like it loops back around to original. I just like the the weird tense play and the fact that there’s no actual noun to be seen. (The full line is “the pearls that were his eyes” from T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, lol.)

[niki-phoria]

i would love to see a heeseung x m!reader fic that have an academic rivals to lovers trope when they're both fighting for the valedictorian spot and both realizes their feelings for each other🥰🥰

he's so AKNENSKLNS sir pls have mercy i beg of you

pairing: student!heeseung x student!male!reader (he/him pronouns) genre: fluff word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of internalized homophobia

includes: reader being bad at math (specifically calculus), heeseung being good at math (specifically calculus), pls notice how i tried to reference the beginning at the end of the fic lmao i hope the self insertness of this one isn't too obvious

got a ton of inspo from this prompt list by @urfriendlywriter !!

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i really like the rivals to lovers trope but this is mostly pining oops this idea is really cute :)) i hope you like it <33

requests open !! read my rules first

lee heeseung.

you’ve been competing with him for the acclaimed position as valedictorian since he first arrived at your high school with big brown doe eyes three years ago. despite never really interacting with him, an unspoken rivalry had formed between you over the years. his presence alone seemed to drive you into wanting to be better than him. 

which is exactly why your current situation was less than ideal. 

“i’m sorry, y/n,” mina sighs. she had been your seatmate for the past month. you almost envied her ability to master any subject without studying nearly as much as you did. “i don’t really understand it either.” you can barely hide your disappointment at yet another failed attempt to find a study partner for your upcoming calculus test. math was never your best subject. “maybe you can ask heeseung. i’ve heard he’s really good at it. and he does tutoring on the side!” 

“yeah, maybe.” you glance over your shoulder at said boy. he’s sitting at his desk, flipping through a textbook as you wait for the bell to ring and officially release you from the class. 

you glance down at the set of problems you need to learn before sighing once again. they’re too complex for you to learn in time for your final exam and you can’t risk losing top spot. not when you’re so close to graduation. 

the shrill ring of the bell confirms your decision for you. you quickly shove the textbook into your bag before walking over to heeseung. “hey,” you say. 

he startles, looking up at you with wide eyes. they mirror the nervousness you had first seen in him on the first day of school when he awkwardly stumbled through the various hallways in search of his classes. “hi.” his voice is sweet as he greets you. 

“i’m really sorry to ask but i could use some help on the latest unit,” your hands anxiously play with your backpack straps. “mina said you tutor people on the side and i wasn’t sure who else to ask.” 

“i’d love to help,” to your surprise, heeseung agrees immediately. he smiles at you as he stands up. “when are you free? we can meet up at a coffee shop or something.” 

“i have some time tonight. i’ll meet you by the south doors?” 

“sounds good. i’ll see you there.” 

“great!” you watch as heeseung slips away into the crowd, making his way to his next class among the sea of students. you’re quick to follow his lead, clutching your bag a little tighter as you walk across the school to your own classroom - history. 

after a short introduction, your teacher writes down a group of pages in your textbook to take notes from. as you scan through the various different paragraphs to search for any relevant information to write down your mind drifts. 

your building anxiety about your math final is soon overtaken by heeseung. you’ve always found him handsome - ever since you first saw him when he was accidentally late to your science class because he had gotten lost in the school’s corridors. you had drowned yourself in your studies in a poor attempt to forget about him, soon replacing any concerns about making friends or potential romantic relationships with hours of meticulous notetaking and practice quizzes. 

heeseung had gotten taller over the years you had spent in school together. he had grown his hair out from a blunt bowl cut. the strands framed his face perfectly; even when disheveled after a rough gym class or a long night of studying. his voice had gotten deeper, too. you had slowly watched his interests evolve in the form of rotating keychains hanging off of his backpack. 

despite all of the changes you had noticed, some things remained the same. heeseung had kept the same friend group throughout the years - six other boys you often found yourself jealous of, though you were never fully sure why. he had taken choir and music theory every year. sometimes you passed by him playing basketball while you were walking home. during your brief interactions, he had remained the same quiet, kind, studious boy you shared a few classes with. 

your thoughts are interrupted by the final ring of the bell. you make a mental note to finish taking your notes once you get home as you quickly shove your things into your backpack before making your way to the south entrance. 

heeseung is already standing there by the time you arrive. he shoves his phone into his pocket, greeting you with another sweet smile. “ready to go?” 

“yeah.” you walk side by side in silence as heeseung leads you to a small local coffee shop you hadn’t noticed before. vines crawl along the walls, creating a calming atmosphere as you sit down at a table in the corner. quiet ambient noise plays from unseen speakers. 

heeseung slides a cup over to you before sitting down across from you. you take a small sip from it, pleasantly surprised at the taste. “it’s good,” you say. “thank you.” 

“i’m glad,” he smiles, pulling his own textbook out of his bag. “so, which concept do you want to start with?” 

you quickly find yourself falling into a routine with heeseung. every tuesday and thursday you meet him by the south entrance of school before walking to the same coffee shop and working through a new concept until you’ve mastered it. 

over time, your meetings had become less about studying and slowly turned into time you spending time laughing and joking around with each other. you had memorized his coffee order after your second meeting. by the fourth you had moved to sit next to him. 

you were increasingly aware of your upcoming math exam as the weeks went by. though you’re grateful for the help, a part of you was disappointed at potentially not seeing heeseung as much as you do currently. it had been nearly two months since you had first begun meeting up. 

your hands accidentally brush against each other, causing a spark of electricity to pass through your body. in the corner of your eye you can see a growing flush spread across heeseung’s cheeks. his reaction makes you smile a little. maybe he also gets nervous around you.

“sorry,” he whispers. 

you shake your head. “don’t be.” 

heeseung turns to face you, staring until you turn to look at him as well. he doesn’t look away as you make eye contact. instead, he shifts slightly so he’s a little closer to you. 

something about him makes you nervous. at some point during your meetings your pristine perfect student persona slipped away, exposing you. the real you -. a teenage boy desperate to be the best, even when your social life suffered and after you lost count of the countless amount of nights you had spent staying up far too late to study. 

heeseung’s eyes just barely flicker from yours down to your lips. the flush on his ears deepens when you unconsciously lick them. he leans in a little closer; almost as if he’s testing the limits of your relationship. you don’t pull away. instead, you reciprocate heeseung’s actions, further minimizing the small space between you. 

“heeseung,” you whisper. 

his eyes shift back up to yours for a second. “y/n,” he raises a hand to cup your cheek. “can i kiss you?” 

you don’t trust your mouth to say any of the words running through your mind. your feelings make sense now. the jealousy over heeseung’s friends, why you’re so nervous around him, the sparks when you touch him. 

years of denial and repressed feelings are ignored as you refocus on heeseung’s lips. they’re tinted a light pink. you desperately want to know what it would feel like to love him. to be loved by him. 

finally, you nod, letting your eyes flutter shut as heeseung slowly leans forwards to pull you into a sweet kiss. his lips feel soft as they gently press against your own. the small sparks of electricity you got from touching his hand are amplified. happiness courses through you. it’s a feeling stronger than you ever thought was possible before. 

you’re nearly panting when he finally pulls away, staring at you with a small smile. you can’t help the way your lips quirk upwards into one of your own. “i love you,” he whispers. 

your response comes in the form of another sweet kiss. you’re both smiling into it, though neither of you mind. suddenly it feels like everything makes sense. love. 

you’re in love with lee heeseung.

[peppercornpress]

hiii!! hope you're doing well. just passing here to say that for the past week I've been reading your naruhina fics and omg, they're so GOOD!! love how you write their dynamic, so cute and fun at the same time ;v; love how you write them both!! That being said, I was wondering if you have a particular artist or song that remind you of them? Your Hinata is so femenine and sweet that made me remind of Alina Baraz's music, idk if you have listened to her but I swear when I was reading your fics (especially The Red Scarf) 'If You Let Me' started playing in my mind haha. All her music remind me of how you write her, it matches Hinata's vibe because her music is mostly romantic and intimate. Hope if you have any chance you maybe want to listen to her!! Thanks for sharing your work with us, you're really talented!! Take care <33

hellooo!!!!

Ummmm!!! Super-flattered that an Alina Baraz song popped in your head while reading my fic because I LOVE her!!! I've got so many Baraz songs on my Hinata, and NaruHina playlists lolol. ('Floating' and 'Keep me in Love' fit so well too)

I love how 'If You Let Me' in particular feels so enticing and dreamy! Such a mood! There's also a confident and assuring tone in this song that fits my head-canon for Hinata.

To answer your question "Do I have a particular artist or song that reminds me of NaruHina"--other than Alina Baraz? YES!! And he pairs so well with Alina Baraz too! It's-- Christian Kuria. I feel like so many of his songs fit the feel I want for a NaruHina combo. I listen to a lot of his songs for inspo. And if you look into almost any of my NaruHina playlists for my particular fics, you'll for sure find one of his songs. lol.

The song I refer to a LOT is this one:

((Please please please, just listen to the lyrics--and tell me it doesn't make you think of Naruto-<3->Hinata...but there are so many covers to this song sung with a female voice that's perfect from Hinata's POV too >.<))

OMG I wanna know more songs that people like associating with NaruHina. I always find it so comforting and insightful!! Thank you for this question, Anon!!! Love your music taste!!

[zukkaoru]

hey grace !!

little spoiler zone for the newest bsd chapter but idk if you would remember an ask i sent back in (and i checked) may about a couple things mostly about how much i love your work and how my friends and i refer to you as the “dead fukuzawa fic writer” anyway i just wanted to pop in after todays’s chapter and let you know that one of the first things (and by first i mean within the first like fifteen minutes of the raws coming out) that was asked was “what does dead fukuzawa fic writer think of this we need a comment [microphone emoji]” and then a later comment was made saying “asagiri read their fics and said Hey now wait a minute……. this has a lil kick to it” before we started discussing theories about how certain abilities might react to the lack of fukuzawa and a lot of references back to your post doa series

just wanted to pop in and let you know your work lives in our brains rent free i’ve been loving the new stuff the rarepair week stuff truly got me through my first thesis review and while i haven’t read the beast souheki fic just yet. i stare at it like every other day because i know im gonna be a mess afterwards :D i hope you have a good rest of your day/night and keep up the great work <33

hi!! yes, i do remember that ask! also it's kinda funny bc i did make this post right after i read the chapter. altocbto could still be canon compliant after all--

in all seriousness though, my hope is that fukuzawa took all men are equal with him when he died so that atsushi and byakko can go beast mode and just eat through fyodor and both amenogozens. if the tiger's claws can cut through any ability, i think the teeth should be able to do the same thing. let's give those "man-eating tiger" rumors some truth‼️ /j (unless....)

i know kyouka is trapped in anne's room but i do also think we should let demon snow out and tell her through the phone to kill fyodor. maybe that would work🤔 i'm not sure kyouka can send demon snow out of anne's room without her but. maybe....

anyway i'm glad you enjoyed my rarepair week fics!! and good luck with the beast souheki fic; it is. it's a fic for sure ! also i may or may not have plans to write another altocbto fic for ladies week.. assuming i actually have time to write it dgfhgsk

[wizisbored]

25, 28, 33, 34, 35 from this ask game

25 - Are there any specific writing tools that you find helpful?

i use the very precise and sophisticated tool known as 'making charts on google sheets by colouring cells'

this is one of a few that helps me keep track of my many many wips. its very helpful in that when i get a comment on a fic wondering if its abandoned and think 'its not been that long has it' i can consult it and take the right amount of phycic damage

got this one for chapter counts as well

28 - What's the most ambitious or challenging fic you've ever written?

ambitious? probably the current big bang fic im writing, just because punctuality and deadlines are in no way my strong suit, but things are actually going suprisingly well on that front. its easier for me to consistently work on something i enjoy than a uni essay, who knew

challenging? anything where the primary goal is comedy. turning an idea for a funny scenario into a fully fleshed out scene while being sure that its actually as funny as you think it is is hard. most recent example is parent creature conferences - its 3 chapters, 7,765 words total, and it took 2 fucking years. and yet i am still planning on writing a sequel because you know what? that shit was fucking funny.

33 - How do you incorporate world-building elements into your fics?

ok so as a primarily au-writer i have had some practice here. this is definately not unique advice but it works - i generally try to either wait for things to come up naturally or find ways to slip them in so it seems like they're coming up naturally. not everything needs to be established from the start - if its not essential to understand the story, it can wait. and i feel like its more fun that way, consistently learning about the setting as the story progresses.

to give an example, netherborne has a bit of exposition-dumping in the first chapter but thats mostly getting the reader up to speed on beetlejuice and lydias relationship and lydias current situation, which is the main thing the reader needs to understand to start the story. on the other hand, the term 'netherborne' and the system of demonic contracts crucial to the setting is not explicitly explained until chapter twelve, because the term 'netherborne' is easy enough to figure out through context clues and the specific details of the system only become relevant in chapter fifteen, so i could just make less detailed references to it while i waited until it made sense for lydia to explain it in twelve. and another thing - if a character is explaining lore stuff to another, i try to avoid it becoming a one-sided qna session with a load of details. better to insert one or two details at a time into the flow of a conversation.

if somethings going to take some explaining, i try to make sure that explaining comes in a slower or quieter scene - i dont want to feel like ive hit pause on the action. (in a similar vein, if i spend a while narrating a characters train of thought i try to make sure theyve actually had the time to think all that.) but if something is simple enough or not so essential to the story that it doesnt need an in-depth explaination, i prefer to have it casually mentioned or reffered to and let people fill in the gaps. maybe ill come back to it, maybe it will stay a fun extra detail to flesh out the world

34 - Are there any fic writing tips or tricks you've learned along the way that you'd like to share?

i know its been said a million times but WRITE FOR YOURSELF. this is a HOBBY it is meant to be FUN. if i catch any of you putting what is going to get you more engagement over what you find fun i will START BITING. we all love engagement trust me i know but genuinely do NOT look at those numbers if you are going to base any amount of perception of your skill on them. i dont fucking know how many hits or kudos i get because it doesnt fucking matter and i dont check!! comments (the content not the count!) and the occasional fanart are the only things that matter to me and i genuinely think i am so much the better for it. on that note please comment on fics i know thats also been said a million times but like. please

35 - What do you enjoy most about being a fic writer?

you can literally do anything with it. once you ditch the concept of 'cringe' there is literally nothing you cant do with fanfic and it doesnt even have to be a good idea. self indulgence is literally the entire point of it! its a hobby about making my favourite fictional characters do whatever the hell i want them to do and then people say nice things about it?? literally winning forever

[galvanizedfriend]

32, 33, 36, 37 for the ask game ♥️

Hi, friend! How's it going?

Do you have a word/expression that you always use in your writing?

I'm sure I have several. 🤔 I tend to get attached to certain words or expressions because English is not my first language and then I repeat them often and I'm aware of that as I do it, but I can't think of anything in particular right now lol If I had to guess, it's probably something Klaus says to/about Caroline. I always run wild with the way he talks about her, he's so extra. I'm sure I must have repeated myself. 😂 But I have the memory of a dead fish lol I'm sure it will come to me at like 3 in the morning when I'm in bed, trying to sleep.

Give your writing a compliment.

Oh man 😂 I don't know how to compliment myself lol I guess my writing is kinda decent? Could do with some improvements, maybe some beta-reading, but it's ok? Ish? Maybe? I don't know 😂

I like to think I have a good humorous vein in writing, obviously when I'm writing stuff that's more on the lighthearted side (like the romcom stuff), and I think I write a good Elijah? I don't know if those are true, it's just what I feel in my heart 😂 I'm usually proud of my Elijah, and I feel like he's a difficult one to get right. I also always try very hard to do good adaptations when I'm writing AUs, especially human AUs. Doesn't matter the setting or the type of story it is, I do very meticulous work in picking the characters so their personalities will match and they won't be just random OOC people thrown in with a name slapped on them for convenience. I also draw parallels to canon, bring in lots of references, sometimes even little comments. I like for things to still be recognizable regardless even if it's a completely different world, and I think that makes for better stories, especially with AUs. I don't know if anybody ever notices that, but yeah, that's something I personally feel I do a decent job with.

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

Fic titles are the woooooooooorst! I suck at titles, I think I hate almost all of mine. I usually take them from songs, some I tweak a little, but yeah, it's mostly from music. But I usually regret them. Like The Wolf. What was I thinking?

My favorite fic title is probably Vice & Virtue or The Sound of Settling. Gasoline is a little stupid, but I really think it fits the story, at least in my head it does.

Do you research before writing or while you write? Is it fun or boring for you?

I do! I research for everything, even tiny details within stories, even if it's just to write a single line of information, I do some research. I once spent hours using google street view to find the building they use as the compound in The Originals just so I'd know exactly where it's located and what one would see if they looked out the window or stepped out on the balcony (it's Royal St. 837, if anyone's curious). I do a lot of research, yes. Sometimes it's more basic stuff, just to get a date or name or random bit of info right, sometimes it's more in depth. I like doing it, but at the same time it's so distracting. I can sometimes spend hours on research and then before I know the day is over and I haven't written anything. 🙃

Thank you so much for your asks! Have a lovely week! ✨

[masked-disciple]

Ok friend you have my curiosity where is this fic you speak of. I am SO ready to have my brain chemistry fundamentally changed

Start here. My recommendation is to read that, maybe read the rest of Turnabout NaNoWriMo, and if you want to know more after that, I can hand you some 200k of fic that is properly formatted with the interludes, because Ao3's formatting really doesn't work with the Sagiverse anthologies. (So what you see here is maybe like a quarter of what we've got. We have a lot, and also lots of art.)

Turnabout NaNoWriMo is the first of three-and-a-half anthologies I've written, and it's only after reading and enjoying all of them do I let people at my fiance's anthologies, which are excellent but a bit more private. (Turnabout Runaways, which was this year's NaNo challenge, is incomplete but at least 50k. I will be slowly working on it probably for a few months, and eventually it'll be done.)

These anthologies take place in a greater crossover AU we refer to as Sagiverse. It started in 2020 in Saint Seiya, and now hosts several different series, eight hundred some-odd characters, upwards of thirty different fantasy worlds (of which Earth is only one), and more plotlines than we can keep track of properly.

Here's the two-sentence pitch: seven hundred years ago, there was a giant war between various magical factions on Earth that ended in a mostly-forgotten pyrrhic victory and the gods choosing to seal magic away from the world. So magic began to slowly die out, and as of present day, magic is rarer and rarer, and mage society is dying out, but it's still holding on as best it can, until one day the gods finally allow magic to return.

Ace Attorney gets involved with this very very simply. Miles Edgeworth is a mage. To be specific, he's a necromage, one of the most powerful currently active on Earth. His father, Gregory Atticus Edgeworth, had never found proof of magic while he was alive. His mother... well, no one knows who his mother is, or anything about the man at all. After DL-6, Miles was taken in by MvK as a ward just as canon says, but the von Karmas themselves are magi of a kind. After DL-6, Atticus finds the proof of magic's existence that he's been looking for all along, and he is not going to leave his son and missing fiance alone in a world that so very much wants the both of them dead.

And so begins a thirty-five year trainwreck to put their wayward, way-finding family back together. They'll do it, no matter what it takes. It just turns out their family's a little bigger than they think it is.

The fic I linked pretty much opens with the identity of Miles' mother, which you learn pretty much as I did, because I didn't plan jack or shit, only let him tell me what was going on. You may raise an eyebrow at the canon ages, don't worry about that. We had to fix the timeline anyway (because the forensics tech was all twenty years out of date so we just changed the years to be twenty years earlier, setting DL-6 on December 28th 1981) so we just didn't pull him back as far. Atticus died at 39, his fiance was 33.

This is because when I first got into AA, I found the IS-7 picture of Gregory and Ray, and I sort of mistook 18-year-old Ray as Atticus' wife. My fiance pointed out the age gap, paused, and went "but they're cute so I'm sure we can make it work" and then we did. If you hesitate a bit on the ship but don't immediately hate the idea, I promise I can sell you on it. At the end of the day, everything comes back to Atticus and Ray's tragic romance. This I can promise you: it ends happily. We're just still writing everything in between.

Sagiverse!Ray is a pretty distinct character from canon!Ray, but they're close enough that if you like one you'll probably like the other. I gave him way more trauma and it's fun. :3c

If you're wondering what happens to other characters, I can answer that. Apollo is dead for a few months, Phoenix a little bit longer. Robot!Athena has Issues. Franziska changes her career from Interpol to Magica Underground mostly because it's a better use of her legal talents. Miles gets to be the chosen one and lead a war against one of his university friends who unfortunately (and semi-accidentally) stole Phoenix's corpse and ran away with it. (Phoenix is fine, don't worry about it.) Atticus gets to be a bounty hunter on the ghostroads with Mia and they do a lot of shooting MvK and causing problems. Ray, uh. Well, at least he only got shot in the head twice?

[gisellelx]

For the fanfic writer asks, want to do 29, 33, and 44?

Thanks @jessicanjpa!

29. What's your most popular fic?

Ithaca Is Gorges, by far. It totally makes my day any time I see someone rec it, and the fact that it's still kicking around at the top of a lot of people's rec lists is such a terrific compliment. I use reddit mainly for my hobby of investing and personal finance, so I only lurk on the Twific reddit but there's usually not a month that goes by where someone doesn't suggest somewhere that someone else read it. It's one reason I refuse to be shy about the value of fanfic writing. I work alongside people whose whole job it is to publish novels and teach fiction writing, and sure, nobody's written about my fanfic in Kirkus reviews, but for sure far more people have read and recommended my novels than have any of theirs. 😆 I'd rather have the latter.

33. Do you ever read your own fics once they've been posted?

Perpetually. In fact, I just managed to lose/break two Kindles in one month and am on my third since the beginning of October. I noticed when I added my Calibre library to the one before this one that my table of contents weren't working properly for several of my ebook versions so I actually took the time to regenerate them last week. Of course, then I sat down and read the entirety of Present Perfect—it's the gnarliest one to format so at first I was just ostensibly checking to make sure it was done correctly, but then I got sucked in because it's a pretty good story if I do say so myself.

It's helpful both because it spurs my own writing, but also keeps me aware of my own canon. Whenever possible, I try to write such that every story I write takes place in the same universe as every other one, and being reminded that oh right, this is the year I decided that Alice and Jasper showed up, and where, helps me make sure a reference I make to it six years later isn't different. Wouldn't mind if Stephenie Meyer paid as close attention.

44. How often do you write?

Trying to bring this back to a more regular practice. I add a few words to things almost every single day. But really getting into the groove of it isn't nearly as often as it once was. I keep trying to get back into a daily fiction writing practice and it's hard. Part of that is, I fear, the easy allure of other kinds of online distraction which did not exist as completely when I used to write fiction, both ofic and fanfic, more prolifically. But other of it is just that I do a lot of writing these days. People think professors are mostly teachers and nope, we're mostly writers. So when work is writing, having fun also be writing is sometimes a lot. On the other hand, I write a lot when I'm writing a lot. 😅 When the ole's sideblog is very active, it's a really good sign that I'm also throwing thousands of words down on the WIPs. So, trying to write more and read more and reddit less.

Ask me things