#oh my god I think I just wrote a pseudo. fanfiction

[jestiamy]

for context (separate links) / tagging @p1nkp0nkk since they are the one that. made me post this so like in this hypothetical au canon needs to be. canon ish. since the premise is "okay but what would V do in a canon timeline." ; but also with the general end goal of "become an antagonist, probably."

I don't really talk about it but my ocs actually do a lot in the background of canon. specifically in the tang dynasty and before (jttw era). to fix all of that meddling to make an au closer to canon we get ;

Ch'en, Gongdai, and Hong are all not around.

maybe they're dead, maybe they chose a difference form, maybe they never existed - none of that matters. as long as 'ch'en'/'gongdai'/'hong' are gone, this timeline can be achieved

This comic goes a lot less "entire comic+ after this everyone screamed" and more "V was just people watching -no form stuff intended since. they don't know they're meant to do that. they accidentally make eye contact. they're both really confused and also v is in a lot of sudden and confusing pain and freaking out really bad + after this V hides right away as every memory up until that moment macaque has ever had starts flooding over into their brain and instinct is all like. dude what the fuck you're gonna die!!! leave!!! hide!!! go away!!!"

Macaque dies, V takes a long long long long time to settle into their skin as a person that is distinctly Not Macaque without their shapeshifter seniors around to explain how it's meant to work. It's a lot of shock and hiding in caves. They come to accept that yeah, my best friend who I also don't know at all tried to kill me except I wasn't me I was someone else until I saw me and then I became me? But not. because I'm dead. They eventually work out a name (Venera) but it took a few hundred years more then it would otherwise and they're definitely a lot more macaque then they would have been if they knew what was happening

macaque comes to life and while he's gaining back his former strength and distinctly not doing whatever it is that weird bone lady wanted, he tries to find out if that person he saw before dying was like. actually a person. and not a hallucination. good side quest, very achievable, and definitely not a subconscious way to avoid confronting his issues by going on a fools errand.

he somehow actually finds the person. they both scream. great introduction

they work out some stuff. hey you're like, sort of me. yeah I guess. talk out their feelings. get eachother in loop on what their revenge scheme is if there is any at all. that stuff. after the conversation tapers off they go their other ways though, mostly because they both think the other is kind of weird. not like, a bad weird, but not really a good weird either.

they keep in brief contact. sort of. macaque just wonders back sometimes, and v doesn't really have anywhere else to go. the instinct of "hide like your life depends on it" was definitely one they didn't kick after the first time it showed up. so they kind of just hang out. in the same cave. forever.

macaque keeps coming back mostly because it's. kind of sad. like huh, if I managed to escape this is what I'd be. mostly just sees young macaque in v, takes pity on that, and comes back to try and be a friend when he has the time. he isn't exactly good at the friendship thing, but he hasn't tried to kill them yet, and that's better then v's last friend right ???

from there I have no idea but I'd imagine v's kind of like. this is My Friend, and macaque is the kind of guy to see no ethical or moral issues in asking his highly secluded friend who has no one else but him to help him out with evil stuff (he is slow and does not realize that is how it is framed) and so if given time and macaque thinking he should enough, they'd probably become macaque's like. in reserve evil henchman. highly in reserve though. he's no lady bone demon okay, he does not vibe well with "menacing person following me around as I do evil."

and so the au from there depends on how bad of a person I let macaque be because. v here is very loyal and macaque is the only person alive with that loyalty. this could go literally so many different ways depending on macaque's general reaction/feelings/plans regarding V

[youre-killing-me-fandom]

Parkner week 2020 Day 1: future au

This trope was not my own idea. Also, this is my first time writing fanfiction so it’s probably terrible. All constructive criticism is welcome. 

..........................................................................................

The last thing Tony Stark remembered was the white-hot pain of the stones' power rushing through his body followed by the peaceful relief of feeling nothing as his surroundings slowly drifted away. 

Yet there he was, standing inside of a building that looked strangely similar to the Avengers Compound though at the same time, completely different.  

"Tony… you've been gone for over ten years…" said Pepper slowly with tears in her eyes. 

Tony's eyes widened in shock. "What year is it?" 

"2036"

Tony's mind had to take a second to process what he was hearing. He had been gone for thirteen years, which means Morgan should be almost eighteen, Peter 29, and Harley 30. His kids grew up without him; his baby girl was an adult; Peter and Harley had graduated for Christ's sake, from both high school and college. Tony couldn't have held back the sob he let out even if he tried.

"Oh Tony…" she gathered her husband in her arms. He buried his face in her neck and let out heart-wrenching sobs. His tears were beginning to dampen Pepper's neck when she started to run her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. 

"They were devastated, you know," Pepper began, "Everyone was, but it took them longer to finally accept that you were gone." 

Tony raised his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Who?"

"Harley and Peter," replied Pepper, "Harley locked himself in your lab for days on end and wouldn't come out until someone went in and forced him to get some rest. Peter wouldn't eat and hardly got any sleep from all of the nightmares he was having. It finally got to the point where Helen had to hook him up to an IV after he passed out once. That was when I told them both that you wouldn’t want them doing this to themselves. After that, they started to make progress.” 

Another wave of sorrow hit Tony like a brick wall. His boys were so upset over his death that they neglected their own health. How many times had they willingly allowed themselves to be hurt because of him?

"But they got better," continued Pepper, "They were able to find comfort and start looking after each other." She let out a chuckle. "They were practically attached at the hip. Still are." 

That made Tony smile. He was glad that they got along. He always wanted to introduce them but never got the chance to before the Blip happened. 

"You should see them. You'd be so proud. They're both helping me so much with Stark Industries. I honestly have no idea what I'd do without them," said Pepper, as she wiped away the remaining tears left on his face.

"What about Morgan? How’s she?" 

"She's amazing," said Pepper. Tony tried to make a comment about how of course she is, she’s his daughter, but Pepper just ignored him with an eyeroll.  "Peter says she's the perfect combination of you and me with your brains and my business skills. God only knows one day the three of them are either going to take over the world or destroy it." 

Tony let out a snort, "That sounds about right." 

···································

They continued to talk about everything he'd missed for over an hour when Pepper let out a startled sound, “I forgot to tell you-"

"Hey Pepper, do you know where my..laptop...is…" said Harley as he walked in before making eye contact with Tony and tapping his watch, which turned into a repulser that was aiming straight at the older man.

“Harley?” Tony asked in wonder, tears threatening to spill again. Harley looked different from how he did when he had last seen him, but that was, without a doubt, him. His dirty blonde hair had grown long enough to reach just above his ears, and, Jesus, was he tall. The blue-eyed boy looked like he reached a height of about 6’3”, a full two inches taller than Tony himself. He was about to say more but was cut off by a startlingly hard voice. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" yelled Harley. Pepper jumped up in alarm at the younger boy's harsh tone and stood between the two of them, getting in the way of the repulser's shot.

"It's not him, Harley." Not who? Tony thought.

Harley’s narrowed eyes never left the other man as he replied with a snarl, "Tony’s dead, so who else could it be?" 

"It's not, I had Friday check to make sure it wasn't an illusion. Do you really think I wouldn’t think of that?" said Pepper, her voice laced with accusation. 

Harley looked at her for a second before reluctantly lowering his gun “No...but then how-”

“Your guess is as good as mine. He said the last thing he remembers is using the stones against Thanos before ending up here.” 

Tony watched them talk back and forth for another ten minutes while he processed what just happened. What did this person do to make him so hostile? Before he could stop himself, he voiced his confusion. 

Harley stopped arguing with Pepper and turned to him with a sigh, “You’re really you, aren’t you?” His eyes searched Tony for any hesitation while he waited for an answer. 

“Of course, who else would I be? Seriously, what’s going o-” 

He was cut off by someone throwing themselves at him and wrapping their arms around him in a firm hug. “God, I missed you, old man.” 

Tony relaxed in his grip and returned the hug tightly. “Missed you too, kid” 

It took them several minutes to rein in their emotions and let go of each other, their faces wet with tears. Neither of them were ever really good at emotions, both preferring to make sarcastic comments rather than state their true feelings.

“So, you never answered my question,” stated Tony. 

Harley looked at him in confusion, “What question?” 

“Who did you think I was?” Tony both wanted to change the subject and satisfy his curiosity, but Pepper and Harley gave each other a worried glance before tentatively turning back to him. 

“It’s a, uh, long story,” Harley said, “A lot happened while you were gone," but as he raised his arms to start explaining, Tony noticed something. 

“Hold on a second...Is that a wedding ring?! You're married?!"

“Oh, well, I guess,” The blonde boy sheepishly rubbed his neck. 

“What do you mean you ‘guess?’” Tony cried, “Who is it? Do I know them?” 

Harley looked overwhelmed, but it was obvious that Pepper found this all amusing due to the bright laugh she let out. “I told you he would go crazy if he ever found out. Just wait until he hears who it is.” The boy glared at her for a second, wishing she wouldn’t encourage the older man. It wasn’t that Harley was afraid to tell Tony about his husband, but...he was kind of afraid to tell him about his husband. Both Harley and Peter knew that Tony had seen them both as sons, and they had mournfully speculated on multiple occasions what his reaction would be; however, now that he was given the chance to find out for himself, he was hesitant. Would Tony be mad at them? God knows that neither of them would be able to deal with their pseudo-father's rejection very well, especially Peter. 

“Well, you see, it’s-”

“Tony?” Tony’s head shot up at the sound of his name.

“Peter! Wait, it's not-” Harley tried to reach out to the other boy, but he fearfully jerked away from the incoming touch, eyes wide. When he saw this, Harley’s blue eyes softened into something akin to hurt and a small sympathetic noise left his throat. 

“Peter, sweetheart, you’re ok, you’re safe. It’s not Beck,” spoke Harley softly, as if he were talking to a frightened animal, but it didn’t seem to work.  Peter began to hyperventilate the longer he looked at the scene in front of him. In an attempt to block out the illusion, he quickly shut his eyes and covered his ears, trying to defend himself against the more than likely painful experience he was about to have.

“Pepper, get him out of here!” snapped Harley, and it didn’t take long for Pepper to grab Tony’s arm and pull him out of the room despite the boy’s rude tone. At this point, Tony was very confused. He thought Peter would be ecstatic to see that he was back, not fearful. And who is Beck? The name is vaguely ringing a bell. Is that who Harley thought he was? What did he do to Peter that would make him have a panic attack the moment he thought he saw him?

Once he and Pepper were out of sight from the other two, they came to a stop. “What the hell was that all about?” Tony demanded. 

Pepper let out a long sigh, and in that moment, she looked very tired. "Do you remember Quentin Beck?" 

The second Tony heard the man's full name, memories of a brown haired man screaming at him rushed to the surface of his brain. That psycho was who everybody was so defensive against? Tony remembered the project they were working on. Beck was brilliant, but he had proven himself to be unstable when he tried to use an experiment with their work on an unsuspecting intern. After that, Tony had stopped the partnership between them and wrote up a contract that said Tony got full rights to the product and Beck would only get part of the credit since Tony had done most of the work anyways. He really hoped that didn't result in consequences for his protege. 

But unfortunately his hope ended up being dashed when Pepper began to explain all of the things Beck had done to Peter in Europe as revenge for what Tony had done, from revealing his identity and framing him for murder to hitting him with a speeding train (of all things), all while psychologically tormenting him with illusions of his worst fears and most traumatic experiences. Apparently while Peter was on the run as an international criminal, Pepper and Happy had sent him to stay with Harley to lay low while they cleared his name and did damage control. 

Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing. His son had gone through hell and back in the wake of his death and Tony wasn't there to help him.  Peter must've felt so alone, not to mention all of the PTSD he must've gotten from the whole ordeal.

Pepper saw the combination of anguish and fierce protectiveness on his face and assured Tony that yes, Peter had been through a lot, but between Harley, Happy, May, Morgan, and herself, he was able to mentally recover for the most part. He still has nightmares and panic attacks about what happened but he is now able to put the suit on and protect New York despite what happened to him as Spider-man. 

Tony still had so many questions, but before he could voice any of them Friday’s robotic voice said, "Mr. Keener wishes me to tell you that you may make your way back to the living room."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Pepper slowly led Tony back to where the boys were, she cautioned, "Just give him some time. One of Beck's favorite things to torment him with was you."

Tony's anger flared once more. How dare Beck hurt his kid like that. It's a good thing he's dead because he definitely wouldn't be alive for much longer with Tony here now. 

When they finally re-entered the living room, what Tony saw made him freeze. Peter wasn’t cowering against the wall anymore but was now standing in Harley’s arms with his face buried in the taller boy’s chest. Harley had his head rested on top of Peter’s chocolate curls as he serenely swayed the both of them back and forth and murmured something Tony couldn’t hear. He looked over to Pepper to see if she was seeing the same thing he was, but she was just looking at the two with fond eyes before quickly glancing in Tony’s direction with a smug smile. He raised his eyebrows at her in question but she just gently shook her head and cleared her voice to grab  the others’ attention. 

Peter and Harley both looked up, startled, before de-tangling from each other minus one hand. The former looked at Tony with hesitation and asked, “Is it really you?” 

“Yeah, bud, it’s me,” replied Tony, trying to put as much sincerity in his eyes as possible. 

When Peter heard that, he let out a sob and let go of Harley’s hand as he threw himself at his mentor. Tony was quick to meet him halfway in a bone-crushing hug, securing his arms around the boy as he turned his face into the younger man’s temple. Peter was openly crying with his head tucked into Tony’s neck, the tears on his face soaking the older man’s skin, “I missed you...so much,” hiccups breaking apart his speech. 

“God, I missed you too, kid,” was all Tony could say in response. 

It felt like hours before they let go of each other, them both trying to make up for the years they didn’t have together. When they finally took a step back, Peter went back to Harley’s side and grabbed his hand again, seeking comfort from it. That was when Tony noticed the gold band on his ring finger as well. “What the hell?! You’re married too?!” he shouted. 

Peter, Harley, and Pepper all gave each other a look that lasted a little too long, and Tony felt like he was missing something, “What?” 

“You really haven’t figured it out yet?” replied Pepper with a touch of humor in her voice. 

“Figured what out?”

“I guess I never actually told you who I was married to…” chimed Harley, “It’s, uh, it’s Peter. Peter’s my husband.” The couple gave each other a look full of love and adoration before turning back to Tony to see his reaction.

Tony’s breath was knocked out of his lungs, “Holy shit, seriously?” He always knew the two of them would get along together like fire takes to oxygen, but he never imagined this. Though now that he thinks about it, it kind of makes sense. The boys are very similar with their love of science yet are complete opposites personality-wise. Harley is rough around the edges and prefers to avoid discussing feelings or showing his true emotions, much like Tony does. While Peter, on the other hand, is soft-hearted and does his best to think about everybody else but himself. Together, they seem to complete each other, picking up the slack in one part of the other’s life that they weren’t aware was weighing them down. 

This time Peter spoke up saying, “Yeah, uh, we’ve been together for over ten years now. About four years ago Harley proposed to me and we got married two years later.” Tony’s heart dropped at the thought of missing their wedding. 

“They were both pretty upset about you not being able to be there, so we set up a chair in the front with a picture of you sitting on it,” added Pepper. 

Tony tried to will away the tears that were threatening to spill again but a few of them ran down his cheeks anyways. He was touched by their gesture and walked forward to engulf them both in a hug that they returned, “I’m happy for you, boys.” The two of them seemed to relax at that, but by then, everyone in the room was crying. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” whispered Peter with a smile despite the tears running down his face. 

“Me too, kid, me too.”

[belettewrites]

Fanfiction tag game

Thank you @flowercrown-bard for the tag! I’m replying here because it makes more sense than using my main blog. 

How many works do you have on Ao3?

12! 

What’s your total Ao3 word count?

81 289 

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Don’t you (forget about me) - Jaskier is the god of memories, and after the mountain decides to grant Geralt’s blessing by taking himself out of the Witcher’s memories. Except, well, he only half succeeds. 

This is the first “big” fic I ever wrote! You’ll soon notice a pattern of me using lyrics as titles because titles are the worst jhdfgjkdjdf

Nostalgia - A big misunderstanding, really. Jaskier hears a song about Geralt and thinks that since Valdo wrote it, he must be traveling with Geralt. Meanwhile, Geralt hears the song and thinks that Jaskier allowed his students to write about him, meaning Jaskier is completely done with him. Basically, they’re stupid and miss each other. 

One of us is lonely, one of us is only (waiting for a call) - Jaskier reaches out to Geralt via a letter, they start repairing their friendship, then Geralt hears something and believes Jaskier died. 

Listen to the melody - Jaskier finds a dog and decides to keep it, while Geralt thinks about how one day, Jaskier will retire and never travel with him again. 

So this one is one of my fics where I go “dogs are great, Geralt and Jaskier should meet/have one” 

And when the rain begins to fall (I’ll be the sunshine in your life) - Geralt and Jaskier have to take a break because it’s starting to rain hard. Jaskier takes a nap, comfortably leaning against Geralt. 

So this one is one of my favorites because my dearest @potatofu-art drew something for it - you can find it here. Really, go check their blog, they’re amazing and so talented, you won’t regret it. 

(also, see what I was talking about with the lyrics as titles? yeah. the downside is that the songs get stuck in my head everytime I’m reminded of the fics jfhgkffhkd)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! Sometimes very, very late, because I always get overwhelmed - people are so nice to me and I never know what to reply 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Oh, uhm. I’d say Don’t you (forget about me) ? But I always kind of write happy endings, so. 

Or maybe Of springs and reunions, because they’re so happy to see each other again. 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ah! This one I know the answer to. It’s The last time (before we meet again). Jaskier is sad because Geralt and him are about to part ways for the winter. 

Do you write crossovers?

Not really. I have an idea, but it’d only take place in the universe of the book series, Jaskier and Geralt wouldn’t actually meet the main characters from that series. And I’m not really sure I’ll write it fjhdgkdkfd

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully, no. I hope I never do because boy that would hit me hard. 

Do you write smut? if so, what kind?

The answer to that question is in a text I sent when talking about an AU I had in mind; the text basically was “Oh fuck, I’ll have to write Jaskier being attracted to Geralt, I hope it won’t end up looking like when Holt pretends he’s straight.” 

So no, I don’t write smut djlfklfkdfgjdk

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Never 

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Right now it’s Geraskier, I don’t know if I have an all-time favorite. Though before being interested in Geraskier I really liked Destiel (thankfully I lost interest before the finale, but I’m still bitter about season 15)

What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don’t have published wips, because I’m too anxious to just post something that isn’t already finished. So shout out to the authors who do that, y’all are my heroes I have so much admiration for you. 

What are your writing strengths?

I have been told (if you’re reading this you’ll recognize yourself, btw ily) that I write dialogues well, so I’ll go with that

What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, English isn’t my first language so that is something I’m kinda insecure about - grammar is awful, verbs can’t be trusted, and don’t get me started on the commas. 

Other than that, I’d say descriptions. I think it’s linked to the fact that English isn’t my first language - there’s vocabulary I have in my mother language that I don’t have in English. Even now as I write this I’m not sure that ‘mother language’ can be said in English fjgkkdskfhdk

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Mmh. I’ve never really thought about it? When I read fics and suddenly there’s French, I do a double take because huh?? But I wouldn’t write dialogues in another language in a fic, because idk it would just feel weird. And if the reader can’t understand it, then what’s the point? Unless there’s a character who serves as a translator, but you know, I think it would kinda break the rhythm of the fic. 

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

So. Picture this: I am ten, I do not know what fanfictions are, and I’m really into Warrior Cats. 

(this is where my main pseudo comes from, btw. It’s short for Snowfeather, and no I don’t know how to pronounce Snowfea either gfdhkfdjkd)

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Mmmmmmmmh. Lemme think. Granted there are only twelve fics to choose from, but still. 

I’ll chose Don’t you (forget about me) again, I think. 

I don’t know who to tag except for @lokibus hjffdhjjhkjd

[backtothestart02]

25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction: Day 16 - Better Than Christmas

A/N: Can you say...pre-series (the year before PAE in my personal headcanon of this fic) love confession on Christmas that reminds me an awful lot of @wintertruffles‘ fic that she wrote for me last year for the WA Secret Santa exchange, but I swear only has a couple similarities and the rest is very different? I never get enough of this premise. I hope you enjoy my take! Almost 4k words b/c this thing took on a life of its own, and I LOVE IT.

Enjoy!

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Iris’ warmth beside him was ecstasy. Her wool sweater with the penguins playing in the snow with winter hats combined with her red sweatpants and fuzzy socks made him think of home and happiness. Sitting with her on the couch, looking up at the Christmas tree with its blinking lights and dozens of ornaments, a few professionally wrapped presents under the tree, and the smell of eggnog in the air as the fire blazed, effectively shutting out the cold. Joe wore a scarf anyway and two layers. Barry wore his typical big red sweater that Iris loved to snuggle into. And God, if Barry didn’t just love Christmas time because of all of those things.

But he wasn’t next to Iris on the couch admiring the beautifully decorated Christmas tree right now. He was in the kitchen baking Christmas cookie with Joe because Iris’ specialty was decorating the tree – and also, her talent in the kitchen was lacking unless it came down to slicing and dicing, which to her credit, she was great at.

Every so often Barry would peak out into the living room and watch her decorate the tree. He’d taken care of the lights and the garland. She would always beg him to help her put up the ornaments with her, but she also wanted him to bake cookies for her and so he was doing the latter as fast as he possibly could. Still, he yearned to see her. He always liked seeing her. She was beautiful, and he was in love with her.

“Hey. Bear.” Joe walked over to him, though he didn’t notice until the man was waving his hand in front of his face. “Earth to Barry?”

Barry blinked, blushed a bright pink and cleared his throat, ducking back into the kitchen just as Iris was turning to quizzically look at them.

“I, uh, I thought we were done, Joe.”

Joe eyed him suspiciously, and Barry wondered if he knew. He’d been careful not to show his feelings for Iris too openly. She’d never guessed, so he assumed no one else had either.

“With one tray, Bear. We have four more to go.”

Barry looked over to the counter and the bare cookie trays spread across it.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I must’ve just-”

“Son, are you ever going to tell her how you feel?”

Barry’s face went white as a sheet.

“I…um…what?” his voice rasped.

Joe barely suppressed rolling his eyes. He did lower his voice though.

“I know you’re in love with my daughter.”

“What?” Barry’s voice squeaked.

“I’ve known it for a long time, and I approve.”

“Y-you do?”

“Are you kidding me? Who else better to take care of her than the boy I raised, the only man I know who comes close to loving her as much as I do and treating her like the goddess she is?”

Well, she is one, Barry thought to himself.

“There’s no one else I will ever trust her with as much as I trust you.”

“Joe, this is a lot…to take in.”

So much so that he was feeling the need to sit down, and quickly.

Not only had he failed hiding his feelings from Joe, but Joe was eager to get him and Iris together. It was reassuring to know he wouldn’t have to win him over and that at least one person thought he was worthy of Iris as a romantic partner, but it still was happening faster and more suddenly than he’d ever expected it to. Truth be told, he hadn’t expected it to happen at all. Actually obtaining Iris’ affection seemed like a far off dream that would never come true. He certainly never expected anyone to encourage that goal, let alone Joe, Iris’ father and the man who had raised him since he was eleven.

“Look, I’m not trying to overwhelm you, Barry,” Joe said, coming to stand next to where he was leaning against the counter. “I just…I’ve seen how you felt about her since you came to live with us, since before you knew what the word ‘love’ meant.”

Reluctantly, Barry looked up into his eyes.

“And I’m telling you, she has no idea how you feel.”

Barry wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and rubbed the skin there – a nervous habit.

“I…I know,” he said, nearly a muttered breath.

“You have to tell her.”

His eyes flashed back to Joe’s.

“W-What? Joe, no. She won’t- She doesn’t feel-”

“She does.”

A scoff spilled past his lips.

“You can’t know that, Joe. I mean, has she said that she does?”

“No. But-” Barry shook his head indignantly, but Joe continued, determined. “She might not know her own feelings, but she will if you tell her yours.”

“Joe, no. That doesn’t make any-”

“Just tell her how you feel.”

“No!” His voice escalated unknowingly. “I’m not going to risk our friendship over feelings she might or might not have.”

“Is everything all right in there?” Iris called out, and Barry reigned in his temper.

He knew Joe had good intentions, but what he was asking of him was absolutely ridiculous. It just wasn’t that simple. If Iris hadn’t shown interest in him all the years they’d lived together, him telling her how he felt now wasn’t going to change that.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Are you suuu-” She came to a stop in the doorway and instantly felt the testosterone coming off both men in waves.

“Yep,” Barry said, forcing a smile onto his face. “I just wanted to come help you decorate the tree and your dad insisted I stay in here to bake cookies.”

Iris looked relieved. Barry didn’t know if she believed his excuse, but it didn’t matter. She was going to let it slide, and she was going to get him out of the kitchen. He knew even before she reached for his hand and pulled him toward her that was what was going to happen.

“Give Barry a break, Dad.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you can handle the rest of the cookies by yourself.”

Taking the lead from his pseudo-son, Joe’s face had smoothed over and his frustrated eagerness cooled to more manageable degrees.

“You’re right. Of course. You two have fun.”

Barry didn’t dare look behind him as he and Iris left the kitchen. He could feel Joe glaring a hole into the back of his head.

…

Half an hour later, the tree was fully decorated – well, except for the star. But Joe would put that on later just before dinner. It was their tradition every year, and there was something very comfortable about tradition. It felt safe. It was nice.

Iris plopped down beside Barry on the couch, snuggling close. He tried to relax into her, but his conversation with Joe in the kitchen kept going on repeat in his mind. He hated that it had happened because it was ruining a moment he would’ve otherwise indulged in. If this was the only way he could have Iris, he would take it. It was great. It felt almost perfect.

Is almost enough for you? After what Joe told you?

But Joe was only guessing. He wanted them to be together, so he made himself believe they had mutual feelings for each other. That wasn’t the same thing as actually having mutual feelings.

He guessed you had feelings, though.

Barry ignored that line of thought.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Iris said, starry-eyed as she stared up at their masterpiece.

Barry wrapped his arm around her, forcing Joe’s words out of his mind. He was going to enjoy this moment. It only came once a year.

“You did a great job, Iris.”

She snorted and poked his chest with his finger.

“We did a great job.” She continued before he could insist otherwise. “Only half the tree would be decorated if you hadn’t helped me, and you know it.”

He smiled slowly. “I guess my height does come in handy.”

She sat up enough to turn and face him.

“You come in handy, Bear. I won’t have you saying otherwise.”

Oh my God, she’s so close.

Maybe she wasn’t really. Maybe it just felt that way. But everything inside him was aching to kiss her.

Don’t do it. It will change everything. And not for the better.

That voice was annoying, but it was also probably true. He knew he needed to listen to it or he might very well ruin Christmas for both of them. The awkward tension next Christmas if he caused that now just might kill him.

“You have really pretty eyes, Bear. Did I ever tell you that?” she asked, sifting her fingers through his hair.

God, she was going to kill him. She was so touchy-feely with him, so handsy, and so innocent about it. It nearly drove him crazy. If she only knew.

Well, she won’t know unless you tell her. He heard the words in Joe’s voice in his head and knew they were true too.

And therein lie his dilemma.

“Not recently,” he teased, needing to lighten the moment before he went insane, before he got a hard-on with their knees touching, her thighs pressed against his, and her cinnamon fragrance absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, they are,” she continued, unthwarted and completely unaware. “Sometimes I wish I had them.”

He gawked at that.

“W-why? Your eyes are so pretty, Iris. They’re beautiful. I’ve never seen such beautiful eyes.”

He was babbling now, but he didn’t care. How Iris could ever think she was anything but the most beautiful was a mystery to him.

Her eyes twinkled in amusement though, and he knew he’d gone a bit overboard.

“All right, if you insist,” she said, and fixed his hair so it was as it had been before she’d started playing with it. Then she repositioned herself so she was snuggled up against him again, this time with her arm looped through his.

He didn’t know how he suppressed a sigh honestly, but when Joe came in a while later, Barry saw the look on his face and felt the pressure. Joe wanted him to tell her so bad. He didn’t know why the urgency had come on so suddenly, but he knew he was going to be feeling it until he told her. Maybe Joe thought Christmas would be the perfect time to tell? Regardless, he did feel guilty about snapping at the man. So later when Iris was asleep against him and most of the cookies had been eaten, and it was just Joe and Barry watching the Christmas tree and listening to the fire crackle, Barry spoke up.

“I’m sorry, Joe,” he said quietly. “About before. I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” Joe said, and Barry had a feeling he did. “I was wrong to push. I just want you – both of you – to be happy.”

“We are happy, Joe.”

“Not as happy as you could be.”

Barry opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Look, if you’re not ready to tell her, I won’t push anymore. But please think about it. Maybe it wouldn’t work out, but I really think that it would. I think you owe it to yourself to give it a shot.”

Barry didn’t say anything, but he nodded. Then he looked down at his sleeping Iris and wondered hard. He still felt very strongly about everything he had said before, but in this gentler setting, a flicker of hope came to life inside him, and he wondered if it was possible that Joe could be right.

“I’m going to bed,” Joe said a while later, and came to press a kiss to his drowsy daughter’s face.

“Mm, what? No…Dad-” Iris protested, reaching for him.

“I’ll see you in the morning, baby girl.”

Her arms fell short and she murmured an ‘I love you’ and an ‘okay’, snuggling back into Barry and drifting back to sleep, her hand clutching his warm, red sweater.

Barry and Joe’s eyes met once more before Joe left. A nod, an understanding, and a ‘Merry Christmas’ passing their lips, even if it wasn’t quite midnight.

Barry fell asleep once for about forty-five minutes before coming to again. Iris was still sleeping against him, and he decided that maybe she might regret the arrangement if her back was out-of-sorts in the morning.

“Hey, Iris.” He gently shook her when she didn’t so much as budge. “Iris.”

She moaned a little. “Mmm, no, let me sleeeeeep,” she whined, then sighed contently against him and snuggled closer, the side of face fully pressed into his chest.

Of their own accord, Barry’s fingers tangled in her hair.

“It’s late, Iris.”

“It’s Christmas, Barry.”

“You’ll thank me in the morning after you’ve slept in your own bed,” he said, more firmly this time.

Reluctantly Iris roused herself and lifted her body off his.

“Why are you so eager to get rid of me, huh?”

His eyes widened. “Iris, I’m not. I’m just-”

“I know, I know. Doing what’s best for me like you always do.” She sighed, getting to her feet, running a hand through her hair and straightening out her clothing so she wouldn’t be walking with her seams sideways or her socks slipping off.

“Iris-” he tried, but she waved him off.

“It’s okay, Barry, you’re right.” She yawned. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He wanted to go after her. He should have gone after her. It was the perfect mood, the perfect lighting. And on Christmas Eve? What better time to risk it all, to risk every Christmas after this one if she really did feel the same?

But she was so tired. It probably wasn’t the ideal time to be making confessions of love.

So, he let her go, and he told himself he should go too. But as luck would have it, he ended up being too tired himself. He pulled a blanket off the top of the couch over him and fell asleep in the light of the Christmas tree.

…

The next morning when Iris came down the stairs, she was struck by the sight of Barry sleeping on the couch. She shook her head at his sleeping form, doing what he’d insisted she shouldn’t do.

Unbelievable.

She knew she should leave him, despite his hypocrisy. But she couldn’t help it. She went and sat on the floor in front of the couch and trailed her fingers up his arm hanging over the side of the couch.

“The itsy bitsy spider…”

“I love you, Iris,” Barry mumbled in his sleep.

Iris chuckled to herself.

“I love you, too, Bear. Even if you are a bit of hypocrite.”

“I love you so much. Kiss me.”

His lips parted, and Iris’ eyes widened. Barry’s eyes were still shut, so he had to still be dreaming. She wondered what he could possibly be dreaming about. The thought suddenly occurred to her that he might be having a wet dream. About her. Her body’s first reaction to that possibility was to get hot all over, and for her a dampness to gather between her legs.

Iris tightly pushed her thighs together, willing the sensation to go away.

That’s weird, Iris. He’s your best friend. You can’t- No. Stop it.

But he really was very handsome – hot, some people might say. Girls in her class, for instance. She remembered feeling some type of way when they would giggle and talk amongst themselves about Barry whenever he would come to meet up with Iris between classes at CCU. At the time she’d decided they were mean girls, unworthy of her best friend, just like Becky Cooper.

But now she wondered… Was it jealousy?

She tried to stomp down the feeling, but she couldn’t ignore what she’d felt last night either. For the longest time she stared into his eyes. It felt like an eternity. And she could’ve sworn he wanted to kiss her. She’d stretched out the moment deliberately just to see if he would. The fact that he hadn’t should’ve proved to her that her suspicions he might like her were wrong, just as they had been her entire life. Surely he would’ve made a move by now if he was actually interested.

And there was nothing wrong with him not being interested. She certainly wouldn’t want to ruin their friendship. The only person she depended on more than Barry was her dad, and even that was pretty much tied.

No, it was probably better to let this slide and ignore whatever Barry might be saying or doing that could be interpreted differently than what was obvious to the naked eye.

Barry’s eyes blinked open. Hazy with sleep, Barry’s voice was husky. It turned Iris on. There was no getting around that.

“I-Iris?”

She smiled slowly, shoving down the feeling.

“It’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“Huh?” His brows furrowed, confused, not registering what she was implying.

He’s so darn cute.

“Telling me to get off my butt and sleep in my own bed and then proceeding to sleep on the couch yourself?”

He was silent for a moment, then, “Oh.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And not only that, but before you woke up just now, you were mumbling in your sleep.”

That seemed to wake him right up.

“What did I say?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, though her cheeks felt hot as coals.

“Oh, you know, just the usual…that you love me sooo much.”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“And that you want me to kiss you.”

She met his eyes. Her mouth suddenly felt so dry. She couldn’t look away from him if she tried. His stare was so intense she thought she’d die if she looked away.

Was he gonna kiss her? Was he gonna kiss her? She thought she’d die if he didn’t.

She didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to break this crystalline, fragile moment, but his name slipped past her lips anyway. Or, at least it started to.

“Bar-”

He leaned over the edge of the couch, most of his body still level enough that he didn’t fall off. And Iris was close enough that he didn’t have to lean far. He didn’t hesitate once he reached her, not for a single moment, and Iris wondered if he’d wanted to do this for a while. If he’d dreamt about it.

His lips were warm and soft against hers. The pressure was sweet and made her feel all tingly. It was the simplest of kisses, but she let him pull back, so he could say something if he wanted to, even though every part of her wanted to grab his face and devour him.

“I do love you, Iris,” he said softly. “I’ve loved you for…so long. And I haven’t told you because-”

“I know,” she said, nodding. “I understand.”

“What about…” he trailed off, then licked his lips. “What about you?”

Iris thought about it, wondered what she truly felt. She certainly loved him like family, though she’d never really thought of him as family, certainly not in a way that would make her see him as her brother or cousin or any other kind of relative. She’d never thought that. But she felt safe with him and protective of him. She enjoyed spending time with him, and she liked touching him a lot. And right now, there were few other things she wanted than to make out with him right here by the Christmas tree on Christmas morning.

“Iris?”

She smiled tentatively, then draped her arm around his neck.

“I think I love you, too, Bear.”

Her small, pretty smile was nothing compared to the thousand-watt one that spread across his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes bright with happiness. He was so very awake now.

“Yeah,” she giggled, then scooted closer and kissed him again and again and again.

By the time Joe came downstairs sometime later, Barry was sitting up on the couch and Iris was straddling him, kissing him with a fury that stole his breath. And Joe West groaned, causing them to break away.

“Dad!” Iris shrieked, but Barry said nothing, a lazy grin on his face he couldn’t suppress.

“Well, I guess you told her,” Joe said on a sigh.

Iris’ jaw dropped. “You knew?”

He ignored her. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, Barry Allen-”

“You told me once,” Barry retorted, to which Joe shrugged and headed back towards the stairs.

“Wait, Dad! You don’t have to-” She tried to climb off Barry’s lap, but he sensed the movement and held her in place, making her brace her hands on the top of the couch, startled.

“I really think I do,” Joe said, continuing up the steps. “I’m still tired anyway.”

When they heard his bedroom door shut behind him, Iris turned back to Barry and playfully smacked him.

“I can’t believe you!” she giggled.

He only grinned. “You’re beautiful in the morning, you know that?” He tucked a lock behind her ear, then sunk his fingers into her hair.

Iris shivered beneath his touch. “Only in the morning, Barry Allen?”

“No,” he said and pulled her closer, nuzzling her nose before stealing a kiss. “All the time. Always. You’re always beautiful.”

One kiss after another. Iris sunk into each and every one of them.

“I have a Christmas present for you.” She tried to pull away.

“I like this one,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss.

“I’ll do you one better,” she said, leaning back enough so they’d tumble to the floor if he tried to lean forward.

“What’s that?” he asked, resigned to whatever fate she’d decided to deliver him.

The question sounded simple enough in her mind, and she knew he’d say yes. She was just suddenly very nervous to ask it. Would he tease her? Would she tell her she was being silly?

“Iris?” he asked, concerned, breaking through her self-doubt, and she knew she was being silly. Silly to doubt him ever.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Barry?”

His literal gasp followed by the look of awestruck wonder in his eyes, the unshed tears of a boy in love staring straight at her like she was the reason science made sense.

“You have to ask?” he rasped, and she knew right then she loved him.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

She kissed him hard – but just barely because she was smiling so much.

“I’m so excited, Barry. So happy. This is the best Christmas gift ever.”

Her eyes dazzled when she pulled away, and he was smiling so bright he looked like he might burst.

“Not as happy as I am, Iris,” then stole another kiss. “Not by a long shot.”

And they kissed a while longer as dawn crept into day and sun shone through the front window. And after a while Barry made pancakes and Iris stared dreamily at him as he did.

“My boyfriend, the cook,” she said, not realizing until he turned to look at her that she’d said it out loud. She was too embarrassed to take it back. And the smirk he sent her way melted her insides.

He finished up their breakfast and delivered it to her. Her eyes lit up at the display of deliciously smelling food, but before she could dive in, he tipped her chin up, leaned down and kissed her.

“Better than pancakes,” she murmured against his lips.

“Better than Christmas,” he countered.

She didn’t disagree.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[callioope]

Writer’s Meme

Tagged by @grexigone , thank you!!!

1) How many works in progress do you currently have? Two fic that are up on AO3 (Learning Curve and How to Lose a Spy in 10 Days). Like, 30+ ideas rattling around in my brain/hanging out in my brainstorm docs. I daydream a lot but have trouble disciplining myself to sit down and write them. Unclear what will become of these neglected plot bunnies. Undecided if I’ll continue after finishing Learning Curve.

Um. I also have like 3 original ideas that I abandoned when rebelcaptain took over my life. Plus 1 finished work that I was querying, again until rebelcaptain took over my life.

2) Do you/would you write fanfiction?  lol if you’re here you know the answer to that is yes

3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks? Paper books. Nothing like holding a paperback, curled up on the couch, sipping hot chocolate (or tea!). That being said, I actually do most of my reading on my phone these days.

4) When did you start writing? Also third grade, like @grexigone! I wrote my first fanfic with my best friend Laura--it was something about Jacen and Jaina Solo and involved magical, invisible creatures that escaped from their cages. It was also third grade when I decided I wanted to be an author when I grew up. Sorry, nine-year-old self. Still working on that (sort of).

5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?  Yes! For fic -- the lovely and wonderful @allatariel & @theputterer have beta’ed Learning Curve. Before these two, my poor fiance served as a sounding board and pseudo-proofer (he proofed mainly for plot/believability on Whatever I Do, I Do It To Protect You). (So blame him for any plotholes I’m just kidding he was a lifesaver for that fic.) and my wonderful sister @jessseri was so involved in plotting The Last Stark that I sort of consider her a co-writer on it (she also looked it over before posting). 

For original works, my best friend Dan is the master of finding all plotholes, and my friend Andy has also read my finished novel. oh my god, and my dad repeatedly asked me for it, I did share it with him eventually and that was terrifying. It went okay though. He likes to hound on how unnecessary my prologue was (a feeling my college prof shared) but otherwise he was positive. 

6) Where is your favorite place to write? My beautiful, wonderful, desk that I bought about ... probably a year ago at this point... it is (fake) gray wood and an L-shape and it was the desk of my dreams and i did *so much shopping* to find it and then one day there it was, in one of those google ads. 

also the couch or on my porch. I move around sometimes to try to get inspiration flowing.

7) Favorite childhood book? When we say “childhood” how young are we talking here? In elementary school, my sister and I were obsessed with the book There's a Hippopotamus on Our Roof Eating Cake by Hazel Edwards. We bought it online a few years ago for nostalgia reasons and this book is so bizarre???? Idk what we were thinking??? or what my dad must have been thinking when he was reading it to us? Here is a quote for you: He watches. I know he does. It’s supposed to be talking about how the hippo on the roof watches their television but like it’s so creepy sounding. ANYWAYS. I was also super obsessed with Animorphs in 4th-6th grade, Harry Potter for ... ever. Oh! And I liked Jane Yolen’s Pit Dragon trilogy? That’s middle school, is that too late?

8) Writing for fun or publication? Both. I mean, aspirationally at least, for the latter. But like I said in question 1, I haven’t done anything with original works in over a year and a half.

9) Pen and paper or computer? Computer, but pen and paper if I get raging inspiration or if I’m trying to break writer’s block. Quite a few ideas are scribbled down on post-its at work.

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes? I have a Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing. So, uh, yeah. I’ve taken a few.

11) What inspires you to write? lol like, anything? it just depends. Reading: Whatever I Do was inspired by a line in the Rogue One novel; when Jyn first enters the temple she thinks of her mother. So my mind naturally went, okay but what if Lyra WAS there. Music: whenever I listened to “The Way We Move” by Langhorne Slim & the Law I got such a clear image in my head that it nagged me until I wrote it. 

For fic, I also like the idea of filling a void. I lost interest in Harry Potter fic after the last book came out; the story had closure, in my mind. But Rogue One gave us so very little, and I thought there was a lot more to explore there. This is why I’m really happy there isn’t more canon material. I really like writing and reading all the varying what ifs. It could have been this way, or that way, or -- maybe a combination of ways! I love that. (Also why I’m not a huge fan of prevalent fanons. Unless they’re sort of silly/fun, benign ones. One set standard sort of kills things for me.)

For original stories, my best, most interesting (to me, at least) are all based on dreams. Every single one, even the one I finished. That was based on a dream I had my sophomore year of high school -- 2004?? I think??? It took me over ten years to write the damn thing. (and a million drafts) And actually, the scene that I dreamed isn’t even in the story anymore. But it gave me two of the main characters and the setting.

Tagging: @theputterer, @allatariel, @skitzofreak, @siachti, @estherlyon, @ruby-red-inky-blue, @threadsketchier, @caffeinosis 

The usual disclaimer: sorry if any of you have already been tagged, no pressure if you don’t want to do it, & MOST IMPORTANTLY if you see this and haven’t been tagged and want to do it, consider me tagging you!!! I want to tag ppl who haven’t been tagged; I’m just really bad at paying attention to who has been tagged and who hasn’t. Tag me so I can see your answers!

[beta-synch]

A Punderful Proposal (SansxReader One-shot)

Hey, everybody! This is somethings I wrote up based on a dream I had a while back. I wanted to write out the idea, cuz I’m a sucker for fluff. Hope everyone enjoys!

Ao3 Link

Title: A Punderful Proposal Pairing: Sans/Reader Word count: 2598 Warnings: Fluff overload. Terrible shitty puns and jokes. No pronouns used for Reader. Otherwise, none.

——

Laughter rang out as the sun shined brightly from the cloudless sky. Waves rolled softly back and forth on the golden sand. The heat was eased by a gentle, cool, ocean breeze.

It was a glorious summer day and you and all your friends had been able to organize a beach house getaway for the next couple of days.

You never expected to become such great friends with all of these wonderful Monsters and their little Ambassador. It stared with Alphys. You had helped her find the local nerd shop and ended up in a very long discussion about anime inside the shop. Through her you met Undyne, when Alphys had invited you out for lunch one day to meet her girlfriend. Next had actually been Toriel and Frisk. You were invited to a sleepover at Alphys’ that Frisk had been invited to as well, and you instantly loved the determined child to pieces and Toriel became a pseudo-mom to you. Finally, you met Papyrus, and in turn, Sans. Undyne was taking you to one of their training session and Papyrus had dragged Sans along this one time because Undyne had said you would be there. Papyrus was the coolest, sweetest person you had ever met, and Sans…

Well…

Something seemed to just click with you two.

Maybe it was the way you treated his brother. Or maybe how friendly you were with his friends.

Or maybe the mutual love of puns.

“the beach is quite the sand-sation, isn’t it?”

“I sea what you did there, but don’t star fishing for compliments.” You giggled. He laughed and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“stars, you’re wonderful.” He sighed dreamily, “how did i become so lucky to be allowed to date someone like you?”

“Sans…”

“i know, i know… no self-depreciation. but still, i sometimes still wonder how you’re real. you’re so incredible and beautiful and smart and funny and i love you so much…” He pulls you into a hug that you quickly return.

What ever it was that clicked between you two, it grew and grew. You became closer and closer, Sans eventually admitting to you his darkest thoughts, and you in turn being a light to guide him back from them. When you were having a hard time and stressing out over everything, he would pull you back and help you unwind. Mutual give and take. There were bumps here and there as with anything, but neither of you wanted to leave the other.

Two years in and Sans realized he loved you far more than a friend. It took another year though for Sans finally find the courage to ask you out. Part of it was the fear you wouldn’t return his feelings. Another, bigger part was that he didn’t think he deserved you. He was still trying to recover from everything the resets had done to him. He was getting better yes, but he was still a mess sometimes. Even if his HP had finally stared rising again, it was still rather precariously low at the time, and he had been sure the heartbreak of being rejected by you would have dusted him where he stood. He couldn’t do that to you.

You had figured out Sans feelings for you a little after he did, and even though you returned them, you were going to wait for Sans to ask you out. You dropped little hints that you returned his affections, but never pushed him. You waited for him to accept that it was ok to take this chance with you. To take a chance at letting himself have a bit of happiness. When he finally did, via a pun in true Sans fashion, you had laughed with the biggest smile on your face and said yes.

You ended up admitting that you had been waiting for him to ask and explained why you had done so. Because Sans deserved to be happy too. You wanted him to believe he deserved it. He asked if he could kiss you right then and there. You answered by taking his face in your hand and pressing your lips to his.

It’s been three years since then and the two of you couldn’t be more of a happy couple if you tried. Papyrus was over the moon with how happy the two of you were, so relieved that his brother was no longer on the verge of Falling Down and so very excited about you joining the family. (The two of you had also given Alphys and Undyne plenty of material for their growing Doujinshi and Fanfiction archives.) Everyone couldn’t have been more happy for the two of you.

“Shell we?”

“we shell.”

You both giggle like the dorks you were.

~~~

It was a great time. You got roped into many shenanigans with your friends; making sandcastles (and burying a sleeping Sans in the sand), collecting shells, playing a rather erm… passionate game of volleyball with Undyne and Papyrus.

“I’M SO SORRY ______!!! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT YOU WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO HANDLE A SPIKE FROM UNDYNE!!!”

“Pap, I’m fine. Got the wind knocked out of me, but no harm done.” You try and comfort the tall skele, despite the ball shaped bruises on your arms stating otherwise. Papyrus tearful shuffles in place, still guilty for the incident. You sigh and reach up to take his face in your hands. You gently pull him down to your level and place a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“It’s ok, Pap. It was an accident, and no one is mad. No more tears, ok? We’re supposed to be having fun.” You coo, softly wiping away his tears. He sniffles, but nods and gives you a small smile. “Now, come here.”

You pull him into a hug and he returns it, burying his face in your shoulder. You hear him mutter a ‘thank you’ and something else you almost didn-

Did he…

Did Papyrus just call you his sibling?

You pull back from him, wide-eyed. Even after so long of Pap saying he considered you such, that’s the first time he’s actually called you it. It seems he finally registered his own words as his face begins to tint orange.

“I-I MEAN- THAT IS- UM-” you cut off his embarrassed stuttering by making little keening noises.

“Oh my god, Pap! You’ve never called me that! I’m so happy!” You sniffled, your heart about to burt with joy.

“NOW LOOK WHO’S CRYING.” Papyrus chuckles. You do as well at the turn of events.

“I’VE- BEEN WANTING TO CALL YOU THAT.” He admits. “FOR A WHILE NOW.”

“You have?” You tip your head in curiosity. “What changed?”

“NYEHEHEHE.” Papyrus holds a finger up to his lips and winks. “SORRY, DEAR SIBLING, BUT THAT, I CANNOT SAY.”

You blinked in confusion. Papyrus? Keeping secrets?? What has the world come to.

“DO NOT WORRY THOUGH! YOU WILL KNOW WHY SOON ENOUGH.”

“Ok then, Pap. I’ll trust you on that.”

~~~~~

It was two days in of your three day trip, and the sun had finally set. Everyone had gathered outside around a bonfire to relax after the long day of playing.

Well, almost everyone. Frisk had passed out on one of the couches, completely tuckered out, and was put to bed. But that didn’t explain who else was missing.

“Where’s Sans?” You ask, looking around for your missing boney boyfriend.

“I think he said he was going up to the Cabana.” Toriel offered. “Though, he has been gone for a while…”

“I’ll go get him.” You say, standing from your seat. “I heard the Cabana has a really good view of the stars, so he probably wanted to see them and lost track of time.”

“Alright, call if you need anything.”

You then turned from the group to head up the cobblestone path to the Cabana. You didn’t notice the faint giggling of your other favorite skeleton.

~~~

“What’s gotten into you Pap?” Undyne quirked a brow at her friend. Papyrus continued to giggle like an excited child.

“OH THIS IS THE MOST WONDERFUL JAPE! AND NO, I WILL NOT BE TELLING YOU WHY. YOU WILL GET TO HEAR ABOUT IT SOON.”

“Aww, not even a hint?” She tried elbowing him in the side, but he avoided it and rolled his eyes.

“ONLY THAT THIS IS SOMETHING THAT SANS HAS BEEN PLANNING TO DO FOR A WHILE.” Alphys blink in confusion for a second, then her eyes went wide as she gasped.

“Y-You mean he’s-!? Right n-now!? Oh my gosh!!!” She bounced excitedly in place. It didn’t take Undyne much longer to figure out what was mean either.

“Ooooh-ho-holy cheese balls, really?! The nerd is finally going through with it?! Why the heck ain’t we up there?!” Undyne hopped up to go march after you, but Papyrus’ voice stopped her dead.

“NO ONE IS DOING ANYTHING.” All eyes turned to Papyrus. “SANS HAD ENOUGH TROUBLE CONVINCING HIMSELF TO DO THIS WITHOUT ANYONE PRESSURING HIM TO DO SO. HE DOES NOT NEED IT NOW. I WILL NOT HAVE ANYONE RUIN THIS FOR HIM.” He was entirely serious about this, and though he didn’t say it, he was also prepared to forcefully keep his friends from spying on Sans and you. Sans almost didn’t end up asking you out all those years ago because their friends kept nagging him about it. He was not letting Sans get cold feet because of stage fright or nerves. Not when Sans was so close to what used to be nothing but an unachievable dream.

“Alright Papyrus.” Toriel, ever the voice of reason. “We’ll stay here and wait for the good news.”

~~~~

“why did the proton blush? it was positively attracted to the electron.”

You snorted and laughed. Ok, so you had found Sans at the Cabana, just like Tori had said. You had initially just sat and started making small talk, then Sans threw some puns, then you did, and now the whole thing has dissolved into a joke war. By now, the stars were in their full glory.

“Ok, I saw this one on the Internet and I thought of you.”

“awww, babe.”

“So, two fonts, Arial and Calibri, were in the midst of a bad breakup. Calibri said, ‘I’m sorry, you’re personality is too bold.’ Arial responded, ‘You’re just not my type…’”

You both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“ok, ok, I got one. two nuclear technicians got married. she was radiant and he was glowing.”

Oh? Relationship jokes now? Well ok then.

“I bet they were a fastidious couple. She was fast, he was tedious.”

“an invisible man marries an invisible woman. the kids were nothing to look at either.”

“When a psychic showed me the person I’ll marry, it was love at second sight.”

“what do you call a melon that’s not allowed to get married? a cant-elope.”

You throw your head back and laugh, your side starting to get a stich. You two continued this trend of marriage, wedding, and relationship puns for a bit. But you started to get curious. He’s never made these kinds of puns before. You laughed until it was quiet.

“Sans…?” He seemed nervous now. “What’s wrong?”

“nothing, i just…” He takes a deep breath and steels himself. “knock, knock.”

“… Who’s there?”

Wait. Was this…?

“marry.”

Being alone with Sans in a beautiful place. The theme of the puns.

“I’VE BEEN WANTING TO CALL YOU THAT. FOR A WHILE NOW.”

Your eyes are wide and your hands are trembling.

“M-marry who…?”

He slids off his chair and down on one knee in front of you. Out of his shorts pocket he pulls a little black box. His own hands shake as he holds it out to you. You can hear the soft rattle of his bones.

How long were you waiting, Sans?

“Marry… me…?” He opens the box and inside is a simple but absolutely gorgeous ring. Nothing more than a simple gold band with a single small gem embedded in it, and you think you see engravings on the inside. But you really didn’t want anything else, Sans and you were both simple people. It sparkled in the moonlight and your breath had left you. You brought a hand to your mouth, your eyes going misty as you continued to gaze at the ring.

The silence stretched for several more seconds and Sans didn’t seem to take that as a good sign. He started to pull back, tears beginning to fill his sockets, and your brain finally caught up with you to say something, you idiot!

“What did the melons say when they were being married?” You blurted out quickly, making Sans freeze.

“w-what…?”

You carefully pluck the ring from the box and slide it onto your finger. Then you take Sans’s face in your hands and peck him quickly on the lips.

“Honey, I do.”

He blinks dumbly at you for a few seconds. Then you giggle and your words finally register. All the tension falls out of him as he starts tearfully laughing. You pull him to you and he wraps his arms around your middle, face pressed to your stomach.

“you can’t go doing that to me babe.” He blubbers between watery chuckles. “i thought i messed up. thought you would…”

“I’m so sorry, Sansy.” You apologize, pressing kisses to the top of his skull. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I love you too much… I don’t think it’s possible for me to say no to you.”

“you did just say yes to marrying me.” Sans mutters. That sentence them seems to strike him all over again, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he begins to laugh in ernest.

“you said yes!! you said yes!!!!” He cheers. He pulls back suddenly, only to jump up on his feet, take your face in his hands, and smash your lips together. You’re quick to return it, crushing him to you the best you can. When he pulls back, he gives you the biggest, most joyful smile you’ve ever seen on him. You laugh as he nuzzles his face to yours.

“You’re never getting rid of me, you know.”

“i should be the one saying that.” He chuckles, then gets this almost wistful look. “i don’t know if i’d be able to live without you now.”

“Sans.”

“i know, self-depreciation. but…” Sans gently takes your hands in his and presses a kiss to your fingers, just below your ring. “we’ve got the rest of our lives for you to keep reminding me.”

All you could do was pull him into another kiss.

Your ring continued to glitter in the moonlight.

~~~~~~~

’WHAT DO YOU MEAN “SANS PROPSED LAST NIGHT”?! WHY DIDN’T ANYONE WAKE ME UP?!’ Frisk furiously signed.

“No one knew he was doing so except for Papyrus, and he wasn’t letting anyone see Sans propose. So you weren’t the only one who didn’t get to see, my child.” Toriel soothed, not looking up from cooking breakfast. Frisk stomped their foot once in frustration, then rushed over to you and Sans, who were eating breakfast together in the living room. They nearly tackled their skeleton uncle, causing him to grunt and try to not fall over.

“whoa there kiddo, easy on these old bones.”

'I had better get to be the Ring Bearer at the wedding!’

“Sure Frisk, whatever will keep you from bearing grudges.”

Papyrus then looks up from his breakfast with a flat face.

“IT SEEMS I HAVE BEEN UNDER A MILD FORM OF INSANITY. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME STOP THIS WEDDING.”

[glux2]

Sometimes, i think about that Tweet from the Fallout: Equestria guy during that whole “triggening” or whatever thing.

Now let’s not even take sides here, this is not about them MRAs or them SJWs, forget for a moment that there was beef between pseudo political ideologies.

Somewhere out there there is a guy, whose claim to fame is that he wrote MLP fanfiction set in the Fallout universe, and he wrote a tweet about how that made him “important” or as if it was a cultural achievement, he was so full of himself that he thought his masturbatory tweet would make people cry.

And i wonder how he could write that tweet, read it to himself and not think “oh my god, what the fuck am i doing with my life?!” and instead he just prolly nodded satisfied with himself.

[sixteenthbuny]

Fanfiction Questions

Fandom Questions

1. What was the first fandom you got involved in? warrior cats

2. What is your latest fandom? Doctor Who

3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in? BBC Sherlock

4. Do you regret getting involved in any fandoms? no??? but wc is tough to cope with tbh-

5. Which fandoms have your written fanfiction for? YGO, Assassin’s Creed, Warrior Cats, Naruto, Bleach, Noragami, D. Gray-Man, Supernatural, BBC Sherlock, Doctor Who, Avengers, Hobbit? etc.

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in. YamiYugi, Yullen, Destiel, Sam/Gabriel, Tony/Gabriel, Johnlock, Sheriarty, MinaKushi, NaruSasu, TenRose, human!Smaug/Bilbo (LMAO), KakaObi, KakaNaru, Desmond/Altair

7. List your NoTPs from each fandom you’ve been in. i’ve only felt the NoTP for Sherlolly tbh-

8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom? BBC One

9. What are the best things about your current fandom? the amount of debates on tjlc and theories tbh, it get hilarious and ridiculous, and mofftiss is probably having as much fun as i am watching everyone

10. Is there a fandom you read fic from but don’t write in? no, not really

Ship Questions for your Current Fandom

11. Who is your current OTP? Johnlock, Sheriarty

12. Who is your current OT3? don’t got one but i’d read a good threeway anyday

13. Any NoTPs? SHERLOLLY

14. Go on, who are your BroTPs? tbh, Sherstrade

15. Is there an obscure ship which you love? LMAO MYSTRADE-

16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike? S H ERLOCLLY

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite? Johnlock, and i love them because their chemistry echoes from hell and back in all 200+ SH adaptations

18. What ship have you written the most about? ObiKaka

19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them? i don’t think so

20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking? Sheriarty, Mystrade, human!Smaug/Bilbo and Twelara

Author Questions

21. What was the first fanfic you ever wrote? oh god.. idk? warrior cats, definitely :) such old times, i miss those days

22. Is there anything you regret writing? um yuri licking a knife fic lmao

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it. i’ve got a few, and one of them is “sherlock in the vignette” because it fits my short attention span and it allowed me to cover a female-genderqueer!Sherlock falling in love with a male!John because i don’t see those often. it’s also tragic in some ways and it gave me stress-free flexibility to allow johnlock biological child happen without any scientific probability complications that fucks me over like it has been for the past four years lmao.

24. What fic do you desperately need to rewrite or edit? Live in the Moment. a plotty naruto mess fic..

25. What’s your most popular fanfic? um. probably Disturbed w/ 44k reads, 120+ favs and 100+ follows, and Ephemeral with ~10k reads, 130+ favs and 190+ follows (both on ff.net)

26. How do you come up with your fanfic titles? sometimes they embody the main plot point or the whole point of the story or a simple characteristic or they’re just punny and random

27. What do you hate more: Coming up with titles or writing summaries? SU MMARIAES SKSJNXBFK

28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of? um.. i’m not sure; either Disturbed, Ephemeral or The One Who Is Bound; they were liked and they would probably be something action-based, or a character?

29. Do you have a beta reader? Why/Why not? no, i usually am the beta reader and i am my own beta reader

30. What inspires you to write? my muse and thoughts and fascination with the concept of fandom

31. What’s the nicest thing someone has ever said about your writing? “it’s brilliant, i love it, you do amazing with your plots and word choices,” kind of complements. they’re really nice and i feel really appreciated and loved when people say those things to me

32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? If so, which band or genre of music does it for you? i always listen to music. it’s like an addiction tbh, and i listen to varying things from chilltrap to epic steampunk mixes. doesn’t inspire me for sHIT tho lmaoo

33. Do you write oneshots, multi-chapter fics or huuuuuge epics? all of them on a good muse :) but mostly huge epics because i do not have chapter tolerance

34. What’s the word count on your longest fic? um ??? 50k? or 80k. somewhere in between, but i’ve written up to 100k words before dividing it into two stories that never made it because the decision may or may not have been a bit premature asdjkijhahn

35. Do you write drabbles? If so, what do you normally write them about? no, i usually try but they tend to fail

36. What’s your favourite genre to write? angst, hurt/comfort, family, romance, action, adventure, drama and suspense

37. First person or third person - what do you write in and why? third person present or pst tense, depending on the story. i don’t do first pov unless i’m r e a l l y feeling it lol

38. Do you use established canon characters or do you create OCs? i don’t use ocs as often but they have come across my stories multiple times

39. What is you greatest strength as a writer? i’m not sure. my craftiness for a plot, i guess.

40. What do you struggle the most with in your writing? staying with it. so basically what everyone else suffers from LOL

Fanfiction Questions

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading: The Loss of Flesh and Soul on AO3 (Sherlock/Silence of the Lambs) http://archiveofourown.org/works/387339 and that is literally it :(

42. List and link to 5 fanfiction authors who are amazing: @vitruvianwatson tammy hybrid (already tagged) @blackkatmagic @highfunctioninggaybaby i haven’t really got anyone else on my tumblr that i read.. not off the top of my head at least, but they're all so much fun to follow and read!

43. Is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you? Sherlock and Minato tbh, their minds, priorities and moralities are inspiring

44. What ship do you feel needs more attention? um mystrade lmao especially in canon

45. What is your all time favourite fanfic shit, i’m not sure. i’ve got a lot, but i really like reverse and backslide :) they were so original and golden for me, thanks to kat for blessing fanfiction.net with that lol

46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why? probably Disturbed, The One Who is Bound, The One Who is Free and maybe Son of Pseudo Gods ??? only two of them are finished tho

47. Archive Of Our Own, Fanfiction.net or Tumblr - where do you prefer to post and why? all three of them, everyone’s stories on here are fantastical whenever i run into them and i need some more on my timeline

48. Do you leave reviews when you read fanfiction? Why/Why not? yes, sometimes. it depends on the amounts of reviews already received/types of criticism. and my energy to actually write one beyond saying (contextually) “I LOVE IT I NEED MORE AAAAA”

49. Do you care if people comment/reblog your writing? Why/why not? DEFINITELY! i would recommend everyone at least give some feedback or love, especially to new authors. criticism is vv important :^)

50. How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction? i started by writing my own at the age of 8 thinking “omggggg no one else has EVER DONE THIS! I WILL BE THE FIRST!” and then discovering many other authors..

51. Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go!

SH I P AWARS A RE OVE R. L E TTHE M BE O VER

and the lack of recognition is kind of ridiculous. i’m talking like professional recognition because i have read fucking. fanficjtions that harare better than actual fucking bookks fjosbfknd

[destielrose]

A Different Kind of Conversion

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve allowed myself to become so invisible that no one can see me anymore. I’ve battled suicide my whole life and I’m so tired. So very tired of fighting. I’m hitting middle age and all of those things I told myself I would do, would become, would conquer: I haven’t done, haven’t become, and haven’t conquered. And I feel like I’ve run out of time. 

I want to slay my demons and stand on their fiery carcasses and know that I will not need to fight them anymore. But I’ve lived just long enough to see life cycling back on itself; those demons keep coming back. There isn’t anything to stand on and nothing is certain.

 I identified as gay when I was a kid, but was shocked to fall in love with a man. I’ve been married to him for sixteen years and I love him tremendously. There have been a lot of trials and I’ve been sick, too. Mentally and physically. I tried to end my life a lot. One time I came particularly close to succeeding. I lay next to my children and listened to them breathe after I took too many pills, wrote letters to them on their bodies with permanent marker. I think I was trying to make something of myself stay with them. I believed in heaven and was eager to see God. I just didn’t want to be in pain anymore. 

But dying hurts. When things started to get painful and my heart sped up, I stumbled to my husband and asked him to drive me to the emergency room. It wasn’t my first stay in the mental ward, but it was my last. When my mother in-law came  to pick me up, a woman who almost never shows emotion, she was broken. I began to see how my death would affect those around me. I was mentally ill enough at that point that I genuinely believed I would need to be institutionalized long-term and that I would be a burden on my family forever. But I could see that even this burden would be preferable to my death, in the eyes of my family. So I made the decision to survive.

But suicide is an attempt to solve a problem. When i resolved not to die, there was nothing left to do and no end to the pain. I had already tried everything out there: buddhism, special diets, wicca, medications, spiritualism, therapies, addictions, self help techniques, and lots of quackery. Everything. And there was a great void inside me that nothing could touch. I could see my life swirling around me; I even knew it was a good life; I just could not feel it. It was as if I was under water. Everything was out of focus and far away. Distorted. And cold.

In that void, the nasty voices that I’d tried to keep at bay with all those therapies and religions and addictions had no obstacles, and they chattered at me all day long. Like Lucifer in Sam Winchester’s delusions, self-hatred and loneliness were my constant companions. I was nothing. I was worse than nothing.

But slowly another voice broke through. “Come home to me,” it said. “You belong to me.” And somehow I recognized that voice as Jesus. Yeshua, the Savior I had met as a young child. 

“How could you want me?!” I asked. “Don’t you know what I’ve done? I’ve broken every one of your rules. I even tried to murder myself. I’m a whore. A coward. You couldn’t possibly love me.”

But, having nothing else to do, I read the Bible. And I discovered that Jesus has a special affinity for whores and outcasts. And he hates hypocrites and the self-righteous, which is all I knew Christians to be. Slowly, he drew me to himself and one day I decided that I would give myself to him. 

“Please,” I cried. “I can’t do this anymore. Please take my life and do with it what you want to do.”

And everything changed. Life bloomed in technicolor and surround sound. I had an anchor. Truth existed. I knew reality. For a blessed six months, I had no depression. There had been so little of me left inside, it was like the Holy Spirit just moved in and filled me up. 

Please keep reading. This isn’t a typical conversion story.

Knowing nothing else, I joined an Evangelical church. The biggest roadblock to my conversion had been the whole gay issue. I had identified as gay. Many of the people I loved were gay. But I knew the church thought that homosexual sex was a sin, always. I did research, but the more I dug into the Bible, the less I could hold onto my old way of thinking. I would just have to trust God on this issue, as much as I didn’t like it. 

I was not the only one struggling with the gay issue. I don’t have to tell you that it is the singe most hotly debated topic in society today. But I was loyal to my God and my church. I even went to a Christian college and got a degree in theology and English. All of the voices in my echo chamber were saying the same things about sexuality. I knew in my head that my old desires were wrong. 

But it never touched my heart. I LOVE gay men. Oh my goodness, I do. I went through a period of time where I was so steeped in slash (Smallville, in case you are curious) fanfiction that I began to think that I might be transgendered. I wanted to inhabit those stories. They kept me alive in the time between my resolve to live and my conversion to Christ. In fact, it was my discovery of dominance and submission in those stories that created in my heart a longing to submit to someone or something bigger than myself, something true and kind and firm and absolute. People laugh (uncomfortably) when I say that BDSM led me to Christ, but it is true.

I had to abandon those stories when I became a Christian, though. Because I felt they were wrong. They were part of a sexual addiction that had nearly decimated my marriage (and honestly a big part of the desire for suicide, too). Unchecked lust can destroy a person. Not to mention a marriage and a family. 

Six years later, my teenage daughter and I have just finished watching Gilmore Girls for the second time through, culminating the experience with the newly released A Year in the Life. It was such a good experience. I was amazed at how that show had allowed us to bond. We had a language all our own, and the situations Lorelai and Rory found themselves in always gave us openings to talk about the deep things in life that just don’t come up naturally. But twice through is enough. We needed a new show. 

Conveniently, Jared Padalecki had left Gilmore Girls to do another show. It was in the horror genre and I wasn’t quite sure if that would be appropriate for either of us. My girl is pretty young and I’m a big wimp when it comes to the scary stuff. But I was also a huge fan of Doctor Who and I was becoming inured to the gore and the jumpscares in that incredibly safe universe. Also, I’d heard of the SuperWhoLock fandom and knew I was required to at least check out the Supernatural show to keep my fan cred up to date. 

So we watched. 

And I’m not sure how I got here. Seven seasons in and my worldview is in shambles. It isn’t the kooky pseudo-Christian mythology that has me tied up in knots. It’s the way this fandom has wormed its way into areas I thought could only be reserved for the sacred, has challenged issues I thought I had long since put to bed. 

Is it wrong to love a TV show *this much*? What is real? What is virtual? Shouldn’t I be concentrating on real life? Am I just mindlessly consuming? What is worship? Am I worshiping celebrities? What is family love? What is romantic love? Where do the lines exist between them? I didn’t have a good relationship with my parents or brother; is that why I read romantic love into every situation? But the show also seems to be teaching me about the power of family and the depth of love. In fact, it shows me redemption and the face of Christ over and over again. In a show about broken people in a world even more broken than ours.

I have started reading fanfiction again. I even wrote some. And it is slash. And…it. is. so. beautiful. Which makes me question the nature of goodness and of God. I’m reading the other sides of the issue of homosexuality and it turns out that there isn’t a good case on either side. And if that’s true, shouldn’t I default to love and beauty? And shouldn’t I know, of all people, having been on both sides of both issues (homosexuality and Christianity), how much weight either can carry? And if beauty and goodness and true love can be found in homosexual relationships, how can that possibly be a sin?

I have no one I can talk to about these things. I feel like I have come out of the closet in so many different ways in my life and now I feel like there are closets everywhere, fracturing my personhood. Do I walk through the door that leads back to my church? Do I walk through the one that leads to a new (SPN)family? Could they ever, possibly, converge? 

How do I know what is true? And who will help me here? Will I never find a home, a community where I fit?

Please respond if this calls to you at all. I am so conflicted over all of these things that I’m feeling suicidal again.