#so i’ll be talking to my actual journal instead

[gregmarriage]

i think one of my main goals for the rest of this year, and probably for the new year as well, is to actually write in my proper journal, instead of making posts on tumblr, bc the latter doesn’t feel healthy or productive

[celestialtarot11]

Song Lyric Messages 🤍🌹💌

Hi friends! 💘🌹 I thought I’d switch it up a little and channel you some song lyrics! This can be any message you need to hear 💗🌟 enjoy, feel free to like, comment and reblog! I’m loving this red theme.

Pile 1:

• 🥀💌 “Feelings, so deep in my feelings. No, this ain’t really like me. Can’t control my anxiety. When I’m with you I can’t breathe. Boy, you do something to me. Ooh, I’ll never get over you until I find something new.” -Boo’d up by Ella Mai.

If you’ve been going through a breakup, separation or no contact situation, it’s been bothering you deeply. You may try to repress how you feel, but it keeps coming up, and your resistance could bring more harm than good. Your message is it’s okay to feel what you need to feel through the experience, anxiety will pass too. It’s okay to miss someone whether that was a friend too, it doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic here. Prioritize yourself, your experience, and journal about how it affected you. Give yourself a voice and watch yourself bloom 🌹🤍

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• How did this experience affect me?

• How did I react to the experience?

• What is changing in my life and how do I feel about it?

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “You make me dance, bring me up, bring me down, play it sweet. Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.” -Mr. Saxobeat By Alexandra Stan.

It’s a wonderful time for manifesting! Now, if you don’t know this song…😤 we’re gonna have some problems. But back to the main point, now is a wonderful time to manifest and celebrate! Either something new is coming into your life, or you’ve reached a point of self actualization that is setting you free. You feel so free, happy and excited. Maybe someone new is coming in, or has. Or you are manifesting someone. Here’s a wonderful sign whatever it is, is coming! Allow yourself to receive. If you’ve been pondering on what to manifest, here are some journal prompts:

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• “Where does my heart want me to go next?”

• “If I could truly have everything I desired what would it be?”

• “What would happen if I manifested it? What would my life look like then?”

Pile 3:

• 🥀💌 “Just let my love, just let my love adorn you. Please baby, yeah. You gotta know, you gotta know. Know that I adore you. Yeah baby.” -Adorn by Miguel

This could be a message from a person directly! They want to tell you how much they adore you, and love you for who you are. They want to tell you how much they’ve been desiring to talk to you, and tell you how they feel deep down. I saw the knight of cups in my vision, so this person feels for you and wants to make a sweet advancement 🌟🥂 that is a card or courtship! If not a person, your inner child wants to let you know they adore you for all you do, and they admire your resilience, strength and ability to love. That’s all they ever wanted, and you giving them that is something they truly appreciate.

💌 Some extra messages 💌

• December may be important.

• They are ready to listen.

• Progress is being made.

Pile 2:

• 🥀💌 “Baby while we’re young. I think we should do something crazy. Like say fuck everyone, and just run away from the daily routine. Yeah, you know what I mean.” -While We’re Young by Jhené Aiko.

It’s important to spend your time focusing on the present moment. Your inner child wants to feel free, happy, and passionate about where they are going next. Take a leap of faith, let life play out as it’s meant to. You are meant to be here now. What would happen if you let it happen to you? Instead of forcing, pushing and moving, sit back and breathe. You may be missing out the more you take control. And maybe it’s time to observe, and let it be 🌟💖

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• Where can I let go a little more today?

• What do I think will happen if I went with the flow?

• What message does my favorite self have for me?

Pile 5:

• 🥀💌 “That’s the way everyday goes. Every time we’ve no control. If the sky is pink and white, if the ground is black and yellow, it’s the same way you showed me. Nod my head, don’t close my eyes.” -Pink + White by Frank Ocean.

Foster more security and stability in yourself. All is well, all is okay. The moment that exists now is for you. If you’ve been bored of your routine do something sporadic, different and spontaneous. You are seeing clearly, maybe there was a lot of truths you couldn’t face in the past, and now it’s helping you understand more. There are many layers to what we don’t see at first, when we peel it back, then we understand. It’s like you’ve reached a major point of understanding a situation, person or yourself. Or life in general. Its happening to realign you with where you’re meant to be 💗🧘‍♀️

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What am I seeing clearly that I didn’t before?

• Where can this perspective take me?

• Which perspective empowers me?

Pile 6:

• 🥀💌 “Baby you’re the baddest, baby you’re the baddest girl. Nobody else matters, nobody else matters girl.“ -Les by Childish Gambino.

Confidence and empowerment is your theme for December. It’s time to step up and realize your worth. If you’ve been working on yourself it’s to help you build your self esteem, and confidence in taking the next step. Create your own intentions, plant your own seed, let you have your own experience. There is enough space for you to begin now, move forward self assured and confident 💗🥂

💌 Some journal prompts 💌

• What area of my life do I want to focus on next?

• What is this area of life requiring of me?

• Where do I need to mature and develop better skills?

Paid Readings 🌹💖

Distance Energy Healing Services 🌙🌃

[alphajocklover]

What an incredible store you have here! It feels so much bigger from the inside. I never would have guessed you had this much jewelry and trinkets inside! I’m surprised you don’t have some sort of extra security with this much in here, haha. I mean, I get that a 40-something engineer isn’t much of a threat, but…

Hey, why are you looking at me like that? And what do you have in your hand? It looks like… feels like… OooooOOOHHH…!

So in my recent post, the one where I updated you all on my Uncle John, I may have mentioned that I have some… friends who work for EB Jewelry and have been leaking me information. This was… definitely a mistake. A huge mistake. I was so wrapped up in everything that's been happening with my Uncle I forgot one of the basic rules of journalism: protect your sources. It was an amateur move that might have put my friend at risk, and I’ve been feeling guilty about it ever since. They said they don’t mind, but… I’m still worried for them. I even tried to convince them to leave before they get caught, but… they’re insisting on continuing. I should have expected it, since they’ve always been stubborn like that, but if anything happens to them because of me, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.

That got kind of dark, so let's get on to the good news. Instead of doing the rational thing and laying low like I suggested, my friend has actually become more reckless. I was incredibly against this, for obvious reasons, but as much as I hate to admit it, it’s actually really paid off. They’ve been diving deeper into the companies files, and have gotten me more information in the last few days than they have in the last three weeks! It’s taking a while to get through everything they sent me, but from what I’ve already seen it’s very revealing. So far one of the most interesting things they sent me was a full video of a recent transformation. Usually the transformations caused by EB Jewelry’s products are slower, but this one was… odd. It started off pretty normal, at least as normal as anything can be in the world of transformations. A forty-something engineer was drawn into one of the larger EB Jewelry locations. Larger on the inside apparently, according to the small amount of audio that was clear in the video. I guess magic is a good way to increase your square footage without having to expand to another location. Anyways, from what I can tell this guy was specifically being targeted by EB Jewelry, since they usually only change people immediately if they need them out of the way. I don’t know why a huge company like EB Jewelry would target a (now former) 40 year old engineer and father of two, but my best guess is that he saw something he shouldn’t have. Whatever the reason, they lured him into the store using the same magic they always do… and let their product do what they always do.

When I talk about EB Jewelry I talk about their fancier products, their watches and their cufflinks, but they have a much bigger variety than that. In this case, it looks like our engineer found some ear gauges. Powerful ones at that. He didn’t need to even put them in to be transformed. The second he touched them, the years faded away, his gut disappeared, and lean muscle packed itself onto his body. In seconds the overweight middle aged man was turned into a hot fuckboy stud, one with no memory of his old life and only one thing on his mind: finding someone to fuck. Don’t worry though, he’ll have a job as a model for EB Jewelry waiting for him when his latest one night stand is over. EB Jewelry isn’t (entirely) cruel though, they turned his two sons into two bros that he can hang out with!

It’s sorry to say it's probably too late for the engineer, and his former sons. EB Jewelry has powerful magic, and even if someone could turn him back, they’d probably find another way to deal with him. I just hope my friend is careful. EB Jewelry has magic and capitalism, which is a really bad combination.

**hey there! Used a pic of one of my inspirations @bgdk98 . Absolutely awesome and sexy guy. Hope you liked this story!**

[aireia]

Am I the ocean you dream of? -- Nanami Kento

tw/cw: gn! reader, angst angst angst, hurt no comfort, nanami's dead.

note: it's almost 1AM. —masterlist

The sound of whirring engines and conversations filled your ears. You leaned back on your seat and looked out the window, the clouds are unhappy today. A sigh left your lips, and you flipped open the small book in your hand. Well, book wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more of a journal, a diary, even. More specifically, the diary of your late lover, Nanami Kento.

Your eyes scanned over the neat cursive handwriting you would’ve recognised in a room stacked to the brim with papers, and you closed your eyes, then tried to remember how you got here in the first place. 

Ah, there it was. You remember how empty you felt the few weeks after the Shibuya incident. You should have convinced him harder to not go, but you knew what he was like. If he is needed, he will show up, even more so because the students were there. Your eyebags were heavy and your movements were sloppy around the apartments as you cleaned through some of the things Nanami owned, and you came across a book with a leather cover, the one you’d always see him write in at night. 

You knew it was an invasion of his privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. You turned the cover and for minutes, you just stood there, staring at the words on the first page. There was nothing there, just his name, and a date. The date of your anniversary, that is. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had started a new book because it symbolised a new chapter of his life with you, or that he had run out of pages in his old journal.

You flipped to the second page, and there it was. “I bought roses to confess to y/n today.” You gulped as you continued reading. “They’re currently asleep on my couch. I’ll leave them something to eat tomorrow because I need to head out early.” 

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you continued reading, and one specific page caught your eye. 

“Maybe I’ll bring them to Malaysia for a holiday. Kuantan seems like a good place.”

Right. He’s talked to you about it before, and the last time he’s mentioned it was a while before he got busy with work, always coming home with different bruises and injuries. Hell, he even told you that he thought about moving there with you.

And here you are now, on a seven hour flight from Japan to Malaysia. Your tired eyes continue scanning over the words, and now you aren’t sure whether you’re just staring at the words or actually reading, because you’ve found yourself reading Nanami’s diary at night when you’re unable to sleep. The thoughts you’ve read inside were all things he’d whisper into your ear at night, and those nights you’ve had the book in your hands as you read through, a faint voice of his remains at the back of your mind, as if he were the one reading to you instead.

There was one in particular that you kept going back to. You remember the one time both of you were extremely tired, but Nanami had insisted on cooking dinner for the both of you. He ended up overseasoning the food, and it was too salty to be edible. You laughed at how many times he tried to apologise while you were busy giggling to yourself about how the ‘great cook Kento’ had finally messed up his cooking. 

Now, as you close your eyes as the plane begins its take off, you realise there’s no one’s shoulder for you to rest your head on when you fall asleep. 

When you open your eyes again, everything is blurry, but you can feel the plane finally land on the solid ground. You’re here. The flight attendants see the passengers off the door, and the message the captain spoke through the speakers stuck in your mind. 

“For those returning to Malaysia, welcome home.” 

How you wished that were the case for you now. 

You collected your suitcases and went through the standard procedures, and the first thing you realised the moment you walked out the door was how hot Malaysia was as compared to Japan during this time. It’s winter in Japan, but it’s always summer in Malaysia. 

It wouldn’t be so bad living here, maybe. Then he wouldn’t need to hear you complain about the cold in winter. 

You booked a cab to your hotel. You purposely booked one near the beaches, so that you could walk to the beach after you got checked in. 

Though, that wasn’t really the case. You’re exhausted. Both from the flight and everything you’ve been through the past few months. The moment you got into your room, even though the sun was blaring hot outside, you just wanted to curl up and sleep for the next few days you were here. 

You’ve been telling yourself these days that Nanami’s had it worse, and he was more tired than you were, than you’ll ever be, but now, you’re in Malaysia, wanting to live his dreams for him… And suddenly, it all felt so wrong. You’re alone here, but where was he? He didn’t get to be here with you. 

Somehow, through your vision that was muddled by your tears, you convinced yourself to go to the beach. Perhaps it’s the final page of his diary you never brought yourself to read, the one he wrote the night before the Shibuya incident. 

“If anything happens, I’ll be waiting for them by the ocean.”

The calming sounds of the waves instantly reached your ears, and you took your sandals off before stepping onto the warm sand. With each step, the sand slots itself in between your toes, a tingling feeling you’ll probably never get rid of. You knew you’d never find him here. Maybe at the bottom of the ocean, he’d be waiting for you as a siren. 

The breeze of the ocean blew by, sticking to your hair. You walked towards the ocean and stepped into the water, shivering from how cold it was. You then crouched down and dipped your finger into the waves, and for a moment, you hesitated before bringing it to your mouth and licking it. You almost immediately regret your decision, laughing at yourself for how idiotic you must have looked. 

You breathed out heavily after, before trying your hardest to put on a genuine smile and smiling at the ocean.

“It’s salty.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

[mouwrites]

Hello again! Let's see... Maybe... Some Creeps again? With... an insecure type character. Think slashers who wear masks in American horror type. Your choice once again, have fun my friend! Congratulations!

~ Shatter

Tysm Shatter!! I decided to do Toby for this one, hope that's cool :3

Word count: 1.1k

Creepypasta - Just Two Slashers ("Ticci" Toby) (700 follower event)

The evening air was heavy with moisture; you were certain it was going to rain. The dark trees along the road all whispered among themselves in the breeze, and for a moment you were entranced. Peaceful, even.

And then came Toby.

“Y/n! There you are!”

Tobias Rogers; the mysterious friend you’d made not too long after moving here. You guessed he lived in the woods too; maybe not these woods (you’d been searching for years for the “huge” house Toby claimed he lived in), but the woods somewhere. He always talked about life in the backwoods; but that wasn’t why you two got along so well. Any two strangers can bond over living in similar biomes—no, you both killed people. Often. For different reasons, sure, but that was something that no one else in the world could bond over.

He was jogging towards you eagerly, his mask and goggles still donned.

“How can you run in those?” You asked as he approached.

“I dunno, how can you do anything with that bulky ass mask?”

You shrugged, backing down immediately. Beneath “that bulky mask” you were reddening.

“C’mon, I was just teasing. I know why you wear it.”

“And I know why you wear your stuff.”

“Yeah. Sucks to be ugly, huh?” He joked. “Not that you’re ugly, though. I actually think you’re pretty hot.”

“You do?”

Instead of responding, Toby gripped your hand and started walking down the road.

For a while he didn’t say anything. He drummed his finger against the back of your hand, hummed, clicked his tongue, but made no conversation whatsoever.

You would’ve spoken up, but a lump in your throat stopped you. So, you took to responding to him in his language. You tapped your finger against his hand.

He glanced over at you, then began tapping rhythmically. At first you thought he was drumming the beat to some song, but then you decided that he was just being sporadic. You tried to mimic his pattern.

“I thought we were doing morse code.”

“Is that what that was?”

Toby shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know morse code.”

You both burst out in laughter, squeezing each other’s hands affectionately. 

“Anywho, I think it’s gonna rain.”

“Yeah…”

“Everyone else will be inside.” “I should hope they’re already inside; it’s past dark now.”

“Man, don’t say that! I was thinking more, like, shucks, everyone’s inside.”

You quirked up a brow. “Why would you want someone to be… oh, wait.”

Toby nodded slowly, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he said: “Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me it is telling you to… you know.”

“Kill someone? Nah, I just wanted to mess with some losers.”

“Oh. ‘Cause… I mean, I wouldn’t mind if we—if…”

Toby knew what that meant. You had someone in mind. Someone who wronged you in the past, someone who you thought might’ve seen you as you walked the backroads late at night, someone who just gave you the vibe of someone who’d hate you… there were a lot of them. You made lists.

“Let’s see the list.”

Toby glanced over the sheet of notebook paper you’d torn from your journal, then crumpled it up in his pocket. “Got it.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, I’ll get to it eventually…” Toby sighed.

Suddenly you felt a little guilty. “I mean, you don’t have to… I don’t mind… uh, doing it myself. It was nice of you to offer, though.”

“Nah, I’ll do it. Just whenever the man wants some trouble stirred up again. Not tonight.”

“What should we do tonight, then?”

“Hm… let’s go to that one lake.”

“...The one that I live by? The lake that you’ve been to countless times when you visit me?”

“Yeah! That one!”

And so it was decided with an exasperated sigh and a blameless snicker—you’d go to the lake.

The moon was high by the time you reached the lake, and its reflection shimmered on the surface. The clouds were clearing now, but still you smelled rain.

“Let’s swim.”

You clenched your fists anxiously. “The water will be freezing, Toby!”

But he was already walking into the water. Yes, walking, not taking any layers off at all. For a second you watched in disbelief, unable to move at all. Then you huffed, sighed, and followed suit.

“Why doesn’t wearing more layers protect you from the cold? This shit sucks!!” Toby, enraged, started walking back out of the water, but only after he had gone far out enough to submerge his head several times.

“I tried to tell you,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him hold his arms out like a scarecrow as he went, clothes dripping profusely.

“This was a very bad idea! Why did you let me do this? Aw…”

Before the guilt of the accusation could settle in, he was onto a new topic. “That’s crazy, though. Who knew a sweater wouldn’t protect you from cold water? Stupid. Can we warm up in your cabin please?”

Eager to help, you jumped at the opportunity. “Of course.”

You didn’t have much in your cabin, but you had a wood stove and a kettle and two cups. Hot tea warmed your bellies while the fire warmed your skin. You were both wearing pairs of your oversized pajamas, your other clothes being soaked and freezing.

Beneath your respective blankets you both huddled closer to yourselves, rubbing your arms and tucking strands of sticky hair away from your faces. 

Your knee was pressed against Toby’s, and suddenly you felt his hand resting half on his knee, half on yours.

You could see wheels turning in his head for a few seconds before he removed his hand.

“Nah, you’re even colder than I am. I was gonna suggest we huddle for more warmth, but… you’re, like, icy.”

“Unlucky me,” you laughed, nudging Toby good-naturedly. 

“Unlucky me. This totally would’ve been a good chance to hold you without all those bulky clothes on. You’re cute with them on, but with just your pajamas? Yeesh.” He sensed your owlish gaze. “That was a good ‘yeesh,’ by the way.”

You looked down bashfully. “I… think you look good in pajamas, too.”

“Really?! Gah, why do you have to be so cold? I would totally hug you right now.” Toby wrapped his blanket tighter around himself, huffing in frustration.

You had to laugh again. “Maybe next time, tiger.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, lowering himself to lay on his back. “Next time.”

He would be gone in the morning. You never knew where he went—he always insisted it was too dangerous for you to know. But he would be back. And you’d be waiting. 

Thank you so much for taking part in the event!! And thanks for reading, take care duckies <3

[obstinaterixatrix]

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

well obviously my sister but I’m guessing you’re the same anon so 1) you already know her fics 2) you want different recs from what’s on her list (some of them being fics I rec’d to her lol). recs will skew heavily seri/rei and I’m just going through my bookmarks so it’s gonna be most recently read to oldest read. also seconding sister’s recs of bobmoss and crookedturtle. but I’ll add a fic from each anyway because I already wrote something for one while I was drafting this (oops)

Recollection by CowardlyBean

This is the journal of missing 31 year old Reigen Arataka, distributed with permission from friends and family. The version presented in this document has been kindly edited with added commentary by a loyal customer of his. -Editor’s Note

gen, experimental and in progress at 14k so definitely deserves more love than it’s getting. inspired by house of leaves; as the summary says, it’s some rando writing annotations about reigen’s journal, but Something Weird Is Going On. the 4th chapter updated so I actually need to catch up. also, sister rec’d this fic to me

Like Acid Reflux, or Love by partingxshot

Dating Reigen is like dating a single dad—only with more children, weirder scruples, and an extreme ruthlessness vis-à-vis group takoyaki discounts. He's not hot enough for this.

OR: "Me, You and Steve" by Garfunkel and Oates but with fifteen million teenagers.

OR: Outsider POV exploring Reigen’s dedication to his gaggle of bizarre children through an ill-fated dating attempt.

OR: Serizawa gets bruxism.

gen(/pre-relationship seri/rei), oneshot, 7k. oc/reigen breakup lmao. extremely funny concept, extremely good execution

Dream Dial by Alakazamboni

For the better part of nine years, Arataka has proudly worked in customer service at a behemoth of a company. At least, that's what he remembers, but a strange illness and a mysterious caller keeps trying to convince him otherwise. It doesn't help that this caller has the power to distort reality.

seri/rei, in progress, 16k. great uncanny atmosphere, and also reigen is trapped in time prison as a miserable office worker. hasn’t been updated for a while but read it anyway, the stoping point is fine

What We Make by crookedturtle

Reigen and Tome are kidnapped from the Spirits and Such office to be used as leverage against Mob. They have two goals: to contact the outside world, and keep each other safe. In doing so they engage in a dangerous game of lies and manipulation with their captors—a game with potentially deadly consequences.

gen (bg seri/rei), complete, 36k. Good for whump and high stakes interpersonal maneuvering & drama. I liked how the story extends beyond rescue and goes into how everyone navigates the fallout

Man's Best Friend by bobmoss

A cursed dog gets left at Spirits and Such. Anyone who pets it is doomed to die a horrible death.

Reigen, of course, pets it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. funny and cute and sweet :) there’s a very charming tentative & tender vibe

heart line by ruthwrites

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

seri/rei, oneshot, 6k. getting together fluff, a fun light read that also highlights serizawa’s insecurities—the internal narration has good character voice

If you won't believe me when I say it, believe me when I don't by deathdefied

Two years after Reigen invited Serizawa to work for him, he still can't quite categorize his feelings for his coworker. Instead of actually dealing with those feelings like an adult and talking to his friend, he decided to get really paranoid and overthink everything Serizawa does.

seri/rei, complete, 26k. reigen drives himself nuts lmao

Obvious by skeilig

Tome’s perspective on Reigen and Serizawa’s developing relationship.

gen (but about seri/rei), oneshot, 3k. I like outsider perspective getting together fics, especially when the perspective character is like ‘I’m actually not invested in this except when it affects me directly’

Cover Me by flecksofpoppy

Reigen’s shadow seems longer as the days move forward, more solitary. The cuts on his face heal and the ache in his bones go away, but a new sting replaces it. It’s loneliness, the thing he had managed to avoid ever since a primary school-aged kid who could make cups float stumbled into his office so many years ago.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. getting together fic that shows off a little of reigen’s gloomier side, it’s cute

loved you just a little too much by shcherbatskayas

You learn how to let go.

(It doesn't come naturally.)

gen(ish), oneshot, 2k. 2nd person character study of serizawa’s relationship with touichiro, I liked the ambivalence; effectively captures development over time with a relatively short wordcount.

offering genuine help with genuine results by suitablyskippy

“The curse was pretty clear on me not telling lies,” concedes Reigen. “It was pretty clear on me telling the truth. But,” as he lifts one finger, already sliding into the same educational tone he generally uses for imparting wisdom to Mob about life and love and the overall holistic benefits of making sure he’s always available for unexpected overtime work on weekends, “telling the truth isn’t necessarily the same as being honest, is it?”

“You’re the professional liar,” says Dimple. “You tell me.”

(Being cursed to only tell the truth and being cursed with Dimple as an employee are pretty much equally bad, as far as Reigen's stress levels are concerned.)

gen, oneshot, 2k. the tags include friends with no benefits whatsoever, which is very apt. Very funny to have reigen and dimple be petty and shady

a slightly more miraculous miracle by suitablyskippy

“Rumour has it that something impossible’s happened. Something that could never have happened. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.” In a single slick move Mezato produces a tiny voice recorder from an inside pocket, flips it open and active, and holds it up before Mob’s mouth to ask him, in a tone of devastating intensity: “Do you know anything about… a miracle, Mob-kun?”

Mob doesn’t hesitate. “We had maths homework to hand in,” he says. “But now we don’t have to. We don’t even have to go to the lesson.”

(The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Salt Middle School has been closed by an unexplained miracle, and the only thing wrong in Spice City is the fact that nothing is even slightly wrong at all.)

teru/mob, incomplete, 55k. for the most part I haven’t been repeating authors on this list, but listen. listen to me. I need you to listen. it is extremely unlikely for this fic to ever be completed. but hark, lest this sad probability turn you away and leave you dispassionately scrolling to the next fic, I need you (you specifically) to know that if I were in the same room as you, I would be wrestling the phone/mouse/trackpad/touchscreen/etc from your hands and furiously clicking the link. when I bookmarked this fic in 2017 I described it as having “some breathtakingly sensical prose and the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever read”. trust me from seven years ago. open your heart.

skylight by inexhaustible

unconnected snapshots in what might, in some worlds, be something a little like recovery.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. character study that nails the tension of an escalating romantic atmosphere.

come on, come on, come over (take it off your shoulder) by mortarsmayfall

Reigen's free hand cradles Serizawa's head, curled under his ear just so to turn it for a better angle. He feels his pulse pound under Reigen's fingers, shivers just the slightest bit. If Reigen notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. when I first read this I saved it as a private bookmark because I was so embarrassed by the sheer intimacy of haircuts with severely unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing this was written after studio bones gave us reigen cutting serizawa’s hair. crumbs no more; for once we had a feast to enjoy. short & sweet getting together fic

Off-White by reigreitz

Some habits are tells.

seri/rei, oneshot, 1k. snapshots of pre-relationship and established relationship scenes, I’m quite fond of it. on my first reading I’m pretty sure I remember not paying attention to the habit piece at all (even with it being right in the summary) so at the last scene I was hit by the double whammy of ‘oh so that was what serizawa was reacting to’ and ‘AW… THAT’S SWEET…’; I think the fic does a great job of hiding/not acknowledging certain things the perspective character knows and is reacting to, which makes it fun to reread and pinpoint what exactly serizawa’s previously more opaque train of thought was. like, it’s the same stuff, but you get to read into more nuance.

the seven stages of falling in love by reigen arataka by matsunoble

You suppose one of the weirdest times to realize you've fallen deeply and irrevocably in love is when it's fuck o'clock in the morning and you're blearily checking your fridge for leftover curry.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. I was quite taken by the mundane (and sometimes unappealing) descriptions of love, and I like when serizawa has the upper hand

Mr. Psychic by beefstatic

Looks like trouble in Spice City...

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. Serizawa Acts Like An Intimidating Bodyguard During Tense/Shady Situations. fun emphasis on that potential aspect of his character, I like how it’s done.

Late by hamlingo

For the first few days after hiring Serizawa, Reigen couldn’t help but be alarmed when the door opened at eight o’clock sharp in the mornings. He got used to it eventually, and in a month’s time he was more surprised when the door didn’t creak open right on time.

This was one of those mornings.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. this is actually among the first seri/rei fics I bookmarked so I can say with relative certainty that on may 20th 2017 I decided that maybe seri/rei was not just a joke of me indulging my own spurious unreasonable whims. fun character study and has that enjoyable tension of pleasant pre-relationship uncertainty.

Quiet Talks by krypkaktus

At some point, Reigen cutting his hair twice a month had turned into a mutual habit.

seri/rei, oneshot, 600 words. another charming snapshot of pre-relationship uncertainty, pleasantly embarrassing unresolved romantic tension.

walk in by ruthwrites

It was then he realized that the reason Reigen and Serizawa were standing so close was because they were kissing.

Mob was not really sure what to do with that information.

(or: mob leaves something at the office, comes back, and walks into something he wasn't supposed to)

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. an extremely popular fic for extremely valid reasons, this is a shining example of the outsider POV shipfic where the perspective character is like. I’m 14 and did not want to see you guys kissing. and the couple is like. we also did not want you to see us kissing, this is excruciatingly awkward.

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

gen, oneshot, 18k. I didn’t mean to rec the same author three (3) times but this is also one of my top faves. extremely funny time prison where nobody is on the same page ever.

space voyage by Anonymous

Tome Kurata is slightly famous—or notorious, more like—for being... a weirdo, to put it simply. She's definitely a person of interest. Just not exactly in a newsworthy way, which is obviously the only way that matters.

mezato/tome, oneshot, 1k. charming pre-relationship contention, they’re the same type of self-absorbed and tunnel vision (affectionate)

I was thinking of not writing up recs for sister’s fics but since one author got three (3) fics on the list I’m gonna also put 3 of my fave fics of sister’s

Reigen's Comprehensive Fool-Proof Guide on How Not To Be Next Door Neighbors With Your Employee (because that'd just be creepy) by MalkyTop

Reigen hires Serizawa and they somehow end up as roommates.

seri/rei, complete, 17k. a fic sister wrote for ✨ME✨ that shows off reigen’s neuroticism and his decidedly not-normal attempts to come across as Extremely Normal, The Most Normal Man Alive. there are so many comedic setups and payoffs. there are so many shenanigans. reigen gets frog-boiled into romance. actually, I drop that term a lot but I’m not sure it’s a common enough to intuitively understand. it refers to the boiling frog metaphor

If At First You Don't Succeed, Find a Loophole by MalkyTop

Reigen keeps dying; Serizawa keeps trying to save him.

seri/rei, complete, 18k. sister was insane for this because she trapped all of her readers AND herself in time prison by releasing one chapter a day. it was really funny to witness because I was the only person not in time prison by virtue of editing privilege. while we were watching mondays: see you next week (an office time loop movie), sister was saying she was impressed at how effective/efficient the movie was at picking which scenes to repeat. this is to say, as someone who notices these details, sister was very intentional about when things changed and how things changed from the perspective of a character completely unaware of time prison. also, the emotional momentum is extremely good, I loved reading serizawa’s increasing desperation from reigen’s context-less perspective.

in absentia* by MalkyTop

After what was supposed to be a routine exorcism, Reigen wakes up in the wrong body.

serirei, complete, 26k. slowburn bodyswap with mystery and intrigue. a solid casefic! I can be biased and right. there are metanarrative elements that I find fun and that, in my opinion, highlights how sister did in fact get a degree in philosophy. there’s also some fun subtle and messy characterization notes, like when serizawa asks reigen not to cook for him. it’s hard to talk about what I like about this fic without giving away a lot of specifics, so go read it.

[drabblesandimagines]

400 requests! joshuaxreader when reader suddenly kisses him. please ❤️

Thanks for taking part in my 400 Followers Event, anon! Hope you enjoy x Distraction Joshua Rosfield x fem reader, just good ol' fluff 658 words

Joshua thinks better when he thinks aloud, and even more so when he has an audience.

You’re sat together on a bench at the top of the Hideaway at sunset – you’ve positioned yourself with crossed legs, facing inwards. He’s mulling away, skipping back and forth between his own journal of writings and the annals of Moss the Chronicler that lie on the bench between the two of you, finding links and identifying areas where he wishes to explore more.

You’re mesmerized by his voice, how adorable you find it when his tone inflects in excitement when he pieces another part of the puzzle together. You wish you could take in what he was saying - Founder forbid if he asked you to repeat anything back! His face, usually pale of late, is full of colour this evening, the setting sun basking him in a golden glow and you are absolutely smitten.

“Mayhaps on Ash I’ll be able to see the mural in full at last – the Circle of Malius still is prominent over there after all, and just like Phoenix Gate I’m hoping an Apodytery will still stand…”

The mention of Ash makes your stomach squirm as Joshua continues his chain of thought aloud. Ash is Odin’s territory, where the last Mothercrystal resides too. They plan to set sail as soon as the Enterprise is restored and that day grows ever closer – Mid regularly sending reports. Worry gnaws at your chest, too close to your heart – both Joshua and Clive had not come out well against Barnabas Tharmr in the past.

“..I was thinking, instead of waiting for repairs to finish, I could prime and just fly over to Ash.”

“Joshua!” You gasp, looking at him in alarm. “You can’t-“

He’s grinning, boyishly. “I do jest, my lady. I could see I’d lost you to your own thoughts.” The Phoenix leans forward. “Forgive me. After all, you are kind to entertain me so as I muse, especially when I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.”

“Not at all.” You reply, softly. “I could listen to you for hours.”

“You shouldn’t tell me that – there is many a topic I can prove to be quite passionate about that others may find too dry. In fact, Moss the Chronicler commented that-”

He is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and you want him to be yours.

You lean forward then – you’re not sure why, a combination of the fear of what is to come, the way his eyes sparkle in the fading sunlight, the handsome smile on his face as he talks – and you cup his face in your hands. Without any further thought, you press your lips onto his.

There’s a horrible second when he doesn’t reciprocate and you know you’ve now crossed a line that you will never be able to come back from. You go to pull back, thinking already of how fast you might be able to descend the stairs, retreat to your bunk, but then his arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and he is kissing you back - hungrily.

You move your hands then, resting one at the back of his head, fingers entangling in his blonde locks and the other runs up and down in his spine. He nibbles at your bottom lip before his tongue slips in, trying to explore every corner of your mouth and you don’t think it is possible, but you melt even more into his arms.

Eventually, inevitably, the two of you break for air, leaning your forehead upon his as you both try and catch your breath, sweet smiles on your faces.

“That is quite an effective way of silencing me.” He compliments in a teasing tone.

“Forgive me for ruining your train of thought.”

 He captures your chin then, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “Actually, I would bid you to do that far more often, sweet one.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-f

[something-tofightfor]

Liminality: Part 10

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,702

Rating: We'll go with a soft NSFW; there's smut but it's not explicit.

** This chapter also contains the 'body horror' portion of the blanket warning, as there is explicit talk of Frankie's monthly transformation **

Summary: It's time. The night of the next full moon means tagging along with Frankie - and Will - when they head to the camper.

Despite only knowing each other for a short period of time, Frankie's willing to show you the most dangerous part of himself and you're more than ready to let him.

But there are other things hiding in the Green Swamp ... and they're much more dangerous than he is.

Author’s note:

This is the chapter that I've been waiting to get to for a REALLY LONG TIME. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. (This would have been posted HOURS ago, but my power has been out all afternoon even though it's SUNNY OUT.

Please feel free to come and talk in my DMs about it if you want. I'm always here.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

Frankie was restless in the days leading up to the next full moon, and there was no hiding it.

He wasn’t rude or mean, and he didn’t distance himself from you - but he did treat you just a little differently. And you didn’t mind at all.

You especially didn’t mind when, on the night before he was set to change, he nearly dragged you down the hallway and into his bed and spent what felt like an hour between your thighs.  He made you come twice with his mouth, Frankie’s moans mingling with yours and sending vibrations through your body that followed the waves of pleasure. 

But when you pushed him away, protesting that it was too much, he went willingly. Frankie’s head popped up and his eyes were bright, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his lips. “You alright?” His voice was husky, the man pausing long enough to take a deep breath and flick his tongue out to get a final taste. “You sounded like you -”

“I am.” You shivered, nodding. “Come up here, Francisco.” He did as you asked, though he didn’t immediately lay next to you. Instead, he kissed his way up the center of your body, turning his head to suck one nipple briefly into his mouth before releasing it and pressing his lips to the base of your throat. “Is this how you always are this time of the month?”

“I don’t know.” He took a breath and then lifted his head, meeting your eyes. “I’ve never been with anyone the night before. Never … trusted myself.” Your heart broke for him, but in the same moment, you understood exactly what he was saying. This means he trusts himself with me when he’s this vulnerable, too. It’s not just tomorrow. “Why? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No.” Cupping your hand against his cheek, you shook your head slowly. “You’re just … more enthusiastic than usual. Couple more minutes of that and I wouldn’t have made it through you actually fucking me.” His lips quirked up briefly, but he kept quiet, still watching you. “And I really want to be able to enjoy that for as long as possible.” 

You could feel him pressing against your leg. 

Even though you knew how much going down on you turned Frankie on, it was still a point of pride for you to have evidence of it. Because he’s got so much else on his mind right now, too. Urging him to close the distance with the curl of your fingers beneath his chin, you met Frankie’s lips with your own. 

It was him that broke away first, Frankie’s teeth closing around your lower lip as he pulled back - and quiet words following moments later. “You could have told me to stop.” 

“I didn’t want you to.” Laughing, you dragged your fingers through the curls at the base of his skull while he settled in next to you. “I just need a couple minutes right now to breathe, and then I’ll be good to go.” He murmured in agreement, one of his arms wrapping around your midsection, but you and Frankie stayed quiet otherwise, both of you breathing heavily. 

He and Will were picking you up the following afternoon. The three of you were going to head straight to the RV, making sure that Frankie had plenty of time to get settled in before the sun set. He wanted to be the one to show you the routine, and you were on board with it. Because if I’m going to do it again, I need to know exactly how to help him. 

“Can I tell you something?” He kissed the top of your shoulder, pausing to give you a chance to reply. 

“Of course.” Turning toward him, you moved your hand so that it rested against his bicep. The new position allowed him to trail his fingertips over your lower back, the motion soothing. “What’s going on?”

“I’m worried about tomorrow.” Worried? Why? “It’s … I had them record me changing once, because I wanted to see it from someone else’s perspective, and it’s …” He winced. “I’m worried that you’ll be disgusted by -”

“If you don’t want me to watch you shift, that’s fine. It’s up to you what you show me.” You spoke quietly, keeping your voice even. “But it’s not going to change anything, Frankie.” Leaning in, you kissed him, letting your lips linger against his for long seconds. “Me being in your life isn’t only about being around for the best parts… and I’m not just talking about your wolf.” 

You meant it - you needed Frankie to know that you didn’t expect him to sugarcoat things for you, no matter how terrible they were. But only if he wants to include me. “Thought I had to put a ring on someone’s finger for them to be around for better or worse.” He’s joking, but … shit. That is what I just offered to do. He paused, saying your name and waiting until you pulled back enough that you could meet his eyes - and see that he was actually amused - to continue. “There’s a lot of bad shit. Shit I haven’t told you or showed you or -”

“We’ll get there.” You squeezed his arm, nodding without looking away. “We’ve only known each other a little while, there’s still plenty of time. This just … circumstances forced a few things a little early, and now we’ve got to deal with them.”

“Sure as fuck did.” He grinned, some of the tension breaking. But it was only a momentary reprieve, because the worry settled back in his features a few seconds later. “I really don’t want to scare you away, and this might. You can tell me it’ll be fine all you want, but until -”

“Until I see it for myself, neither of us are going to know what’s going to happen.” You nodded, chewing on your lower lip. “Frankie, I don’t want this to be more stressful for you than it already is. That wouldn’t be helpful at all.” 

“I keep thinking about the fact that tonight might be the last night I get this with you.” He closed his eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath. “And I don’t want … that would be fucking awful.” You didn’t reply right away, instead letting his words sink in. 

He wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t truly think that there was a possibility that he’d lose you. And the thought of losing you wouldn’t have been so terrifying to him if he didn’t feel strongly for you. Shit. 

“It won’t be.” You brought your hand up, running your knuckles over the stubble on his cheek. “At least not by my choice, ‘Fish.” You were certain of that - of the fact that whatever he showed you the following night, it wouldn’t change the way you felt about him, at least not in the ways he was concerned with. “You’re asking me to trust you tomorrow, right?” He nodded, narrowing his eyes. “Then you need to trust me, too.” 

Your hand slid back, fingers curling around the back of his neck before you urged him closer. Please trust me. “I do.” He nodded and then kissed you, exhaling through his nose without pulling away. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t need an apology, Frankie.” You spoke against his lips, taking the lower one between your teeth at the end of your sentence and tugging. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He sighed, the hand on your back sliding down to your hip and squeezing. “But…” You traced over the curve of his lip with the tip of your tongue, the ends of your fingers delving into the hair that curled against the nape of his neck. “I do need you to fuck me right now.” 

You weren’t usually so blunt with him, because you didn’t need to be. But he needs a distraction. And he needs to know that I want him. “That’s what you want?” You nodded, humming as his mouth returned to yours, Frankie pushing you backwards and then letting some of his body weight rest on you. “Good.” He rocked his hips forward, grinding against your thigh. “Me too.” 

Frankie swallowed your reply in a deep kiss, and for the next few minutes, you let your mind wander. You knew that sex as a distraction wasn’t the best call - but rationalized it as necessary in that case when he finally pushed up and away from you, reaching for the bedside table and the condoms there. The following day was going to be stressful, and the more relaxed both of you were when the sun set and he changed, the better. 

You did come a third time that night - but it happened almost 30 minutes later - Frankie’s orgasm triggering your body’s response, which was no less intense than it had been earlier. And instead of pulling out immediately, he held you close for a long time after, his face pressed to your neck. 

It was almost impossible to tell because of your ragged breathing, but you could have sworn you heard - and felt - him speaking against your skin, Frankie’s hold on you secure. You didn’t want to put him on the spot, so you didn’t question him about if he’d spoken - or what he might have said. 

And instead of continuing your earlier conversation, you and Frankie simply climbed back into bed after cleaning yourselves up, his arms wound tightly around you from behind. It was you that said goodnight first, sleep already creeping up on you thanks to how exhausted your body was. He spoke his reply directly into your ear, the arm around your body tightening - though his voice was low. 

He fell asleep before you, the worry gone and his body relaxing as soon as his breathing evened out. You weren’t far behind him, but  you took the time to link your fingers together against your stomach, his curling against yours, even though he was already snoring softly. Nothing is going to change. It can’t. 

You fell asleep holding his hand and with the comforting feeling of his body pressed against you from behind … and neither of you moved until morning. 

— 

Will and Frankie showed up to get you early, but you were already packed and ready to go by the time the SUV pulled into your driveway.

After putting your overnight bag into the trunk with both of theirs, you climbed into the back seat, taking a deep breath. “Hey, guys.” Will said hello in return without looking at you, already backing out of the driveway, but Frankie turned to look into the backseat, his eyes bright beneath the brim of his hat. “Francisco.” 

You could tell he was nervous; you could see how rigidly he was holding himself. At your tone of voice, he relaxed marginally, lips twitching upward into a small smile. “Hey.” He paused and you reached forward, squeezing his arm. There’s no reason for you to be so nervous. “You ready?” 

“I am. I brought snacks, because -”

“We’re going to stop before we get to the RV.” Will looked back at you in the rearview mirror, arching a brow. “Couple fast food places right off the freeway. And there’s stuff in the camper, too.” Frankie reached up and covered your hand with his, but then turned to face forward, settling back and against the seat. “It’s about an hour drive, so you should get comfortable. ‘Fish always picks the music, so sorry ‘bout that in advance.” 

That got a laugh out of you and a groan from Frankie, but it also lightened the mood, which seemed necessary. “I also brought headphones.” You cleared your throat, settling back against the seat. “Just in case.” 

Will’s laugh filled the interior of the car, but it was drowned out when Frankie spun the volume dial on the radio - and then started to sing along. Maybe this is going to be OK. 

— 

After you got to the RV, the three of you sat inside with the door open, eating. It was a little before 6, which meant that you had just over an hour before Frankie needed to start getting ready. 

As the minutes passed, you noticed the change in mood, though you and Will kept up a steady stream of conversation and Frankie tried to do the same. Will seemed anxious, while Frankie’s nerves became more and more apparent, the man repeatedly removing his hat so that he could drag his fingers through his unruly curls over and over. 

It was difficult to watch - and you made a mental note to ask Will later if that behavior was normal, or if Frankie was acting differently because you were there. Either way, it didn’t matter, because as soon as you were done eating, Will stood up, wiping his hands against he front of his pants and clearing his throat. 

“I’m going to head up into the trees.” He looked between you and Frankie, taking and releasing a deep breath. “I’ll be down as soon as you head out, ‘Fish. Don’t forget the t-”

“The tracker. I know.” He nodded once, his tone sharp. “I’m good, Ironhead.” 

“I’ll be watching at sundown, but not before.” Will said your name, waiting until you’d shifted your attention to him to continue. “I will not let anything happen to you.��� Do you really need to say this? It’s just going to - “Frankie made me promise to say that to you while he was still here. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but -”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Frankie straightened up, reaching out to take your hand. “Not with you.” There was nothing else to say, and so you just nodded, the two of you waiting until Will gathered his things and headed out the RV’s door, closing it behind him. And then when it was quiet, you watched Frankie carefully, waiting. 

You wanted to let him explain things in his own time, and in the way he wanted to - and that meant not leading him. Taking the opportunity to look around the small space, you grinned at the sight of the photos that decorated the walls.

“We figured that since this belongs to all of us, it should look the part.” Frankie stepped toward one of the bulletin boards, pointing. “Took this on our first deployment together.” His finger moved down and to the right, jabbing at a shot of the five of them that looked much more recent. “This one was from South America.” 

Stepping closer, you took a better look at the picture, which was of them sitting on a patio together, the cheerful lights strung above them illuminating a wooden table that was littered with cans and bottles, but keeping the background in shadows. “Before everything?”

“Before Lorea, yeah. That was the night we agreed to help Pope.” Frankie sighed, lowering his arm. “Was pretty much the last good night we had before everything went to shit.” 

“At least you didn’t come home empty handed after everything you guys went through.” He laughed, but the sound was bitter, Frankie backing away from the photos and turning to unlock a crate that was sitting on the other side of the room. 

“Yeah, the money’s a nice little consolation prize.” He bent down, pulling a folded blanket and a notebook out. “Especially now that I have to deal with this every month.” He reached back in, pausing before he withdrew his hand. “I know you brought your gun, but I’m going to need you to carry this one tonight.” 

He turned back to face you, holding out a revolver and a holster, his expression serious. “Why?”

“Because you need to have something that’s got silver bullets in it, and if you used your gun, you’d have to explain why you’ve got them in there already.” You hadn’t even thought of that, but it made total sense. That would have been a mistake on my end. “They still carry when they’re with me. Ironhead’s got a gun of his own up there. This one’s a backup, but he’ll be looking to make sure I gave it to you.”  

“Of course.” You took it from him, undoing your belt and sliding the holster onto it. “Anything else?”

“The notebook’s to keep track of the time the change starts, and when I come back.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Ironhead’s focused on numbers, so leave that to him tonight. I don’t know what the fuck they do while I’m out there, but I’m sure he’ll fill you in.” You nodded, swallowing before you took a step closer to Frankie. “The blanket’s because I get naked before. I didn’t the first couple times and I ruined my goddamn clothes, so now I just …” He shrugged. “Take ‘em all off.” 

“Do I bring it back in once you’re gone?”

“No. Whoever’s out here usually just moves it underneath the awning on the side of the RV so that I have a little privacy when I come back. If it’s rainin’, yeah. Bring it inside and then set it out again right before sunrise, but otherwise …” He shrugged again. “C’mon, let me show you the rest of it. We’re running out of time.” 

For the next thirty minutes, Frankie showed you the rest of the inside of the RV, carefully explaining the measures that they’d taken to protect themselves - and him. He showed you the tracking device and the app they used to monitor it, the map of the area that he tended to frequent - a peaceful place that was about fifteen miles south of the camper near a small creek  that gave him plenty of space to run. 

As the time ticked down, you could see - and feel Frankie’s demeanor change. Not only did his words come out faster, but you saw the way his body moved - fingers flexing more often, his wrist twisting back and forth by his side as he explained things to you. 

You stayed close, though, listening to him and asking questions. You made it a point to touch him, even briefly, every so often just so that he knew you weren’t going to shy away. I wouldn’t. Ever. A little after 7, he stopped abruptly, straightening up and turning to look at you. “I need to go outside.”  

“Of course. Do you need me to leave while you get undressed?” 

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” That got a smile out of him - and a laugh out of you, but as you stood back and leaned against the edge of the dining room table, you stopped laughing. He methodically removed his clothes - starting with his shoes and socks and then moving to his shirt, the man taking everything off and tossing it into the chest that he’d pulled things from previously. “Keeps my scent hidden. Seems like a good idea with this other wolf running around.” 

You agreed, murmuring the words back to him. “You said your senses are heightened now, right?” 

“They are.” He nodded, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, slowly sliding them down and over his hips. “Soon as I go outside it’s going to … I don’t know how to explain it. Explode, maybe?” Frankie looked back over his shoulder at you, smirking. “You smell amazing right now, by the way.” That took you by surprise, as did Frankie’s wink before he faced forward again and then stepped out of his jeans, bending down to scoop them off the floor. 

You couldn’t help the way your teeth clamped down on your lower lip when he straightened up, rolling his shoulders back before reaching for the waistband of his underwear - the only thing he had on. Your reaction to the sight of his body was instinctual and because he’d just admitted that everything was heightened, you knew he’d sensed it, too. 

Frankie gave you a much longer than necessary glimpse of his bare ass before he leaned forward and picked the blanket up, wrapping it around his shoulders. “When we go outside, we’re gonna go and stand in the middle of the clearing. Will’s going to be able to see everything, so…” He spun to face you, and for the first time, you saw true worry in his eyes. “I’m going to say goodbye to you in here, if that’s alright.” 

“More than alright.” Closing the distance between you, you reached for Frankie, taking his face between your palms. “It’s going to be fine.” He nodded but didn’t say anything before you kissed him, moving in as close as you possibly could with him holding the blanket closed around himself. 

You knew you had very little time - and when Frankie stepped forward, backing you up and against the closed door, you realized just how little. 

He’d never kissed you quite like he did then. 

What started out with you in the lead quickly shifted to something more, his mouth hungry against yours, Frankie’s hips rolling forward and keeping you pinned against the wood. You felt him growl into your mouth - the sound needy as his tongue stroked yours, and you moved a hand into his hair, yanking his head to the side as you let out a moan that only made him inch even closer. 

The desire was bleeding from his body. 

Frankie was trembling against you, and you had no idea how he managed to keep his hands off of you and firmly holding the blanket. But it’s a good thing he did because him touching me now is … He broke the kiss, but instead of pulling away, Frankie lowered his head and nosed along your cheek and then your jaw before dropping his head so that he could nuzzle against your neck. “What are you -”

“The way you smell right now is fucking …” He groaned, and you felt him press an openmouthed kiss to your pulse point. “Nothing like it.” Dragging your fingers through his hair as he took a deep breath, you closed your eyes and inhaled too, trying to see if there was anything different that you could sense.

He still smelled like Frankie - faint cologne and clean sweat, a hint of laundry detergent from the blanket - and even though you knew what was going to happen in only a few minutes time, you still didn’t feel any differently about him. 

The motion of his hips stopped as you felt his chest expand with a few deep inhales, followed by Frankie pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck before he nipped at it with his teeth and straightened up. “Couldn’t help it.” He raised a brow, meeting your eyes. “At least this time I can blame the wolf.” 

“We should go outside.” Rubbing your thumb over his cheek, you tilted your head to the right. “I don’t want you to cut it too close.” You saw uncertainty in his eyes for a few seconds but then he nodded, closing them and stepping back.

You moved away from the door and then pulled it open, walking down the few steps that led to the forest floor. He followed, but was silent - and didn’t break that silence until you were about ten yards from the RV.

“Flip the snap on that holster.” He swallowed, shifting back and forth on his feet without looking away. “But don’t put your hand on the butt. I don’t … know how I’ll react to that.” You nodded, wetting your lips. “I’m not going to get mad if you look away. This is all new for you.”

“You’re going to let me see?” Your eyes widened. “Frankie, I thought -”

“I am.” He rolled his neck out before he tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. “I need you to know everything.” He winced and shuddered, his eyes shut. It’s happening. “Step back.” His voice was lower than usual, and when Frankie opened his eyes, you saw that they were lighter, his pupils wide. “And if it even seems like I’m going to -”

“You won’t. But I know.” You tapped the gun, smiling at him. “It’s alright, Frankie.” He wrinkled his nose, and you watched as the blanket twisted in his hands as he tightened his grip. “I’m right here.” 

The clearing was silent, and though it should have bothered you to know that Will likely had a gun pointed at the two of you, you were entirely focused on Frankie. You wondered what the beginning of his change would look like - if it would start slowly or happen all at once, resulting in the man in front of you disappearing as he became something else. I’m going to find out. I - 

“Don’t…” He groaned, stomping one foot and gritting his teeth. “Don’t run. Turn away if you need to, but please don’t do anything that might make me chase you.” Oh, Frankie. You knew it was dangerous, but you didn’t even try to stop yourself from taking the few steps forward that were necessary to put yourself directly in front of him. “What the fuck are you -”

“Stop worrying about me.” Placing your hand flat on his chest - palm over his frantically beating heart - you stared directly into his eyes, which were already more gold than brown. “Focus on what you need to focus on, Francisco.” He went still, but then nodded, his gaze flicking down to your mouth and then back up. “I’m not afraid of you.” 

Leaning closer, you kissed him on the cheek and then backed off, knowing that you were already pressing your luck. 

“You might not say that in a few minutes.” I doubt it. He dropped the blanket suddenly, exposing his entire body to you - and for the first time since you’d met Frankie, you looked at him with something other than want. 

There was no real way for you to describe what was happening except to say that it looked like everything was stretching. The bones in his arms and legs were elongated, as were the ones in his hands, which forced his fingers to curl inward toward his palms. Even Frankie’s chest seemed to expand, and you watched in disbelief as the shape of his body changed, breath catching in your throat at the sight in front of you. He’s got to be in so much pain. 

Frankie stayed quiet, though, and when you looked up and met his eyes again it was you that made the first sound. A gasp tumbled from your lips before you brought a hand up to cover your mouth at the sight of his face. If not for the tangle of curls on his head and the lingering furrow between his brows, you wouldn’t have even known it was him, because it wasn’t a man’s face you were looking at - it was that of a wolf. 

He bared his teeth as he fell forward and his hands hit the ground, but the only noise you heard was the grunt of the impact. You had no idea how he stayed silent. No matter what he’d said, the process of changing had to be painful, and you were almost certain that he’d lied to you about the way it felt in order to spare your feelings. “Oh, Frankie.” 

It slipped out before you could stop it, but he didn’t even acknowledge your words, and though you assumed he’d heard you - his human ears had become the pointed ones of a wolf - you had no way of knowing for certain. 

He dug in with his hands, leaving a few gouges in the earth, but when you watched his shoulderblades shifting beneath his skin for the final few seconds before dark fur sprouted from his body, you finally looked away, needing a second to compose yourself. 

You were crying; you felt the tears tracking hot down your cheeks, but it wasn’t because you were afraid of him. Instead, you were angry for him, upset that every 30 days, he had to relive the transformation twice in the span of twelve hours. Nothing could prepare me for that. Not a goddamn thing. 

A whining noise drew your attention again, and when you turned your head back toward Frankie, you gasped a second time, lowering your hand. 

The man you knew was gone - and in his place was the largest wolf you’d ever seen, sitting on his haunches and staring at you with its head tilted to the side. “Hey, Francisco.” Reaching up with one hand, you wiped away your tears and gave him a smile. “Look at you.” 

You took a few seconds to do just that, your heart thudding in your chest at the sight of a werewolf, not even ten feet from you, after years of searching. He was much bigger than you’d imagined; the top of his head reaching almost to the center of your chest, and his shoulders were broad, mirroring the man in human form. 

He pawed at the ground, and you watched as he scented the air, never looking away from you. You wanted to move closer, but didn’t want to spook Frankie, so you cleared your throat and took a breath, giving him a smile. “Can you understand me?” He nodded and then blinked twice, but he stayed put. Fucking weird. “Will you come closer?” Wetting your lips, you laughed, the sound nervous. “Only if you want to. I -” 

He moved as you spoke, rising and then slowly trotting forward, but stopping before he was close enough for you to touch. Even in the slowly darkening twilight, you could see that his wolf mimicked the way Frankie looked as a man, and you wondered if that was the case for all of them. 

Shaggy fur in a deep chestnut threaded with gray covered his entire body, but his face was lighter, especially on his cheeks and snout. With a genuine laugh you leaned closer, biting your lip at the sight of his cheek. He tilted his head to the side, staring at you, and it was easy to read his curiosity.

“The patches in your beard.” Reaching up, you tapped your own face. “You’ve still got them.” For whatever reason, seeing that was what tipped you over the edge and put you truly at ease. Because he’s still Frankie. “Even as a wolf, I’d know that handsome face anywhere.” He whined again, ducking his head, and when he looked up, you could have sworn he was smiling. Good. Good, he can see… I’m not afraid. “That looked like it hurt, Frankie. But thank you for letting me watch.” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you stared at the wolf in front of you, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. 

You didn’t know how he’d react to that - had no idea if anyone had ever touched him in that form, or if he even wanted anyone to. Why wouldn’t he? You felt oddly calm, even though your heartbeat was still elevated, and as you eyed Frankie, you realized that Ashley and Alec hadn’t been lying about the size of wolves. He’s huge. And if the other one is this big, too… I’d stand no chance, especially if he was attacking me from up close. 

“Am… am I allowed to touch you?” Gritting your teeth, you swiped at your face with one hand. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question, I just -” But apparently, it wasn’t, because Frankie rose to all fours and took another cautious step toward you, putting himself within arm’s reach. You had no idea what to do, and so you held out one hand toward him, proud to see that it was almost completely steady. 

He moved his head, turning toward your outstretched hand to sniff it, and then you moved on autopilot, stepping forward and lifting your hand so that you could slide it between his ears, fingers curling into the fur there. It’s not as soft as it usually is. You still grinned at the feel of it, your other hand moving to the side of his neck and stroking downward. 

“You’re gorgeous, Francisco.” Humming as  he stepped forward again, nudging your hip, you kept going. “And you’re fucking huge, and if I didn’t know it was you, I’d be …” You sighed, stroking his fur. “You’re intimidating, even when you’re just sitting there. Thank you for not scaring the fuck out of me.” He nudged you again, rubbing the side of his face against your hip, and then without warning, he broke away from your touch and circled around your legs, head lowered. “You still don’t like compliments, even when you’re like this, hmm?” 

His head shot up and you somehow knew that if he were human, he’d have rolled his eyes. But when he took a seat in front of you again, you took a deep breath and crouched down, bringing yourself closer to his eye level. 

The two of you stared at each other for long seconds, and the longer you looked, the more of Frankie you saw in front of you. The wolf sat proudly, though his head was tilted to the side as he eyed you.There was warmth in his gaze, along with a sense of calm that you hadn’t expected with how nervous he’d been only minutes earlier. 

He’d given you permission to touch him, and so you did, reaching out and stroking the fur along the side of his face and then down his neck, following the motion of your hand with your eyes. He repositioned his paws, inching marginally closer, and at that your smile widened, a barely there nod of your head accompanying it. His fur lightened as it got closer to the ends of his legs, and you were surprised to see what looked like a black smudge atop the left paw. He must have had that one when he was bitten. “Frankie, have you ever…” You touched it, looking up. “Your tattoo, it’s….” 

He lowered his head further, and when you felt the press of his wet nose against the back of your hand you finally moved it away, letting him see. The noise he made in response was almost startled, which made you laugh, and forced you into a sitting position, giving you a chance to look up at him. 

He straightened up again and stared at you, blinking slowly, and then Frankie extended a paw and rested it on your knee, the movement cautious. You reached for it, lifting it slowly, and when you pushed gently on his toes, you saw the true size of his claws, as well as noticed the fact that his paw itself was massive, and much larger than your palm. You wondered if he was considered small for a wolf, and then wondered if Ashley would allow you to see any of her pack during a full moon so you could compare. 

“Frankie, the fact that you’re like this with me now …” You met his eyes again, taking and holding a deep breath. “This is incredible. You’re incredible.” He ducked his head again but it didn’t last long, because he drew his paw from your hold and then moved forward, lowering his head and sniffing at your bare arm. You felt it moments later - the warmth and wet of his tongue as he licked the back of your hand. “Oh. Oh, ok…” 

You moved then, raising both arms and putting them around his neck, turning your head so that you could bury your face in his fur. If you hadn’t been certain before, that moment made it clear that you loved him, wolf and all. How could someone not love him?

Frankie let the weight of his head rest on your shoulder, and you head him whining, the sound loud - followed by the press of his paw against your other leg. He’s trying to hug me back. Oh, Frankie. 

He pulled away first, but didn’t go far, and even though you stayed mostly still when he started, your eyes widened as you felt him nosing at your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Shit. He’s… 

Frankie licked your neck twice, and then rubbed his face against it, whining loudly as he backed off. But that time, he took a playful stance, his tail wagging back and forth and his ears swiveling as he watched you, tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

“Oh, you’re in a good mood now?” He nodded again, agreeing, and when you pushed to your feet, he stretched, front paws out and that half of his body lowered while the back end remained upright, tail still moving from side to side. “You need to go, don’t you.” He set his paws and then shook his body, yipping out a reply to you at the end of the movement. “Then go, Frankie. Run. Have a good night.” Stepping forward, you reached down and found the metal chain around his neck, trailing your fingers over it until you found the tracking device. “I’ll keep an eye on you. We’ll keep an eye on you, alright?” 

He barked then, turning his head to the right and then looking up, and you knew it was looking for Will, even though he likely couldn’t see him. He barked twice more - the sound carrying, and then Frankie backed away further, putting distance between you. 

Part of you didn’t want him to go. You wanted him to stay in the clearing with you all night. But you knew that he had to, that he needed to run and stretch his legs and let the wolf’s instincts take over for the few hours that it could. And it would be selfish of me to ask him not to do that. 

“Be safe.” You said his name, crossing your arms. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” He whined, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, though he stayed in place. What is he waiting for? You watched him closely, Frankie turning his head to look up, and even though you weren’t sure, you spoke again. “Go ahead. It’s not going to scare me. Let me hear you.” 

Your permission had been what he was waiting for, and only moments later, Frankie sat and tipped his head back, letting out the loudest, longest howl you’d ever heard in your life. It didn’t scare you, because you knew it was him, but the sound was chilling, and somehow different from the regular wolf calls you’d heard previously. And it’s different than last month’s, too. It sounds … fuller. 

He howled a second time, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, watching as he held his position, nose pointed toward the sky and his broad shoulders set. It was an incredible thing to see - and it would have still been incredible even if it wasn’t Frankie that you were watching. But the fact that it is him… it’s more special. 

The howl trailed off, and Frankie rose to all fours again, turning away and toward the woods to the south. At the edge of the clearing, he stopped and looked back, pausing long enough to howl again - that one long and low, almost sad. 

And then he was gone, disappearing through the trees and into the gathering darkness. 

You waited a solid minute and then deflated, dropping to your knees and covering your face with both hands. You were overwhelmed - there was no way around it, and since you knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to hear it, you started crying again, shoulders shaking. 

It had gone much better than you’d imagined it would. Frankie had seemed at ease with you in way that you’d never expected, and despite your tears, you weren’t scared or upset at what you’d seen. It made you sad, of course, but you were convinced even more than you had been earlier that you had nothing to fear from Frankie, even when he was a wolf. 

It was still almost a slap in the face to have learned just how large werewolves were, and exactly what your relatives had expected you to face in order to complete your revenge quest. Frankie’s gentle behavior was, as the guys had said, somewhat misleading, because the others wouldn’t be like that, especially around someone that they didn’t know. And the Chaos wolves are especially dangerous for someone that’s accustomed to a wolf they know. 

Reaching up, you rubbed at the side of your neck and then reached out with your other hand to touch the spots in the ground that he’d disturbed, fingers trailing over the claw marks and then coming to rest in one of his pawprints. A wolf the size of Frankie could easily overpower an adult human. A wolf the size of Frankie without the self restraint of a former Army Special Forces helicopter pilot could do it before the other person even knew what was happening. “Fuck.” 

You hung your head, shaking it back and forth. Yes, you had a better idea of what you’d be up against when finding a Chaos wolf, but it made the odds seem so much more stacked against you. “You alright?”

You shot to your feet at the sound of the voice, your hand automatically going for the gun on your hip as you whirled around. Will stood a few feet away, both hands held up with his palms out and a smirk on his face. Jesus. “You scared the fuck out of me, Will.” Your heart was racing, fingers frozen just above the butt of the gun.

“So let me get this straight.” He lowered his hands and then crossed his arms. “‘Fish turns into a goddamn wolf right in front of you and you’re fine. Two minutes after it happens, you’re petting him … and I’m human an’ ask if you’re doin’ alright, and you go to pull a gun out on me?” 

“I…” Wrinkling your nose, you winced. “Yeah, that’s kind of fucked, isn’t it.” Both of you laughed then, and you rubbed at your face before you said anything else. “I don’t even know what to say. That was … that happens every time?”

“Every time.” He stepped past you and reached down, picking the blanket up. “He’s quiet now, though. First few times, he screamed.” 

“He said it didn’t hurt, that it was just uncomfortable.”

“He’s a fucking liar.” He folded the blanket with precision, and then moved back toward the RV, motioning for you to follow him. “His goddamn bones grow and move. His face changes shape. I didn’t go to college and study the fuckin’ supernatural, but … the way he screamed at the beginning? I can guarantee it hurt. And it might be something he’s more used to now, but …” 

“Yeah.” It made you feel worse, but you couldn’t fault Frankie for lying to you. “So what now? He won’t be back until morning, right?” 

“Right.” Will stuffed his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “So now it’s a whole lot of sitting and waiting. We’ve got internet and TV inside. I can take you up and show you the view from the blind. We can stay out here… it’s up to you.” 

“We should probably go inside.” You rubbed at your neck again, nodding. “That way you can show me what -”

“Look.” He stepped forward, laying a hand on your shoulder. “The hardest part is over. The rest is just waiting for him to come back.” Will’s smile was small but genuine, his blue eyes bright in the single overhead bulb beneath the awning. “We’ll check his location a couple times, and update the guys once just to let them know everything’s good, but aside from that?” He tightened his fingers against your arm and then let go. “It’s just a typical night.” Unless something goes wrong. 

It was unspoken, but it hung between you. Everything’s going to be fine. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the forest around you - the faint sound of bugs and the breeze, along with the hooting of a far-off owl reassuring you. Alright, Will. “Got any beer in that fridge?” 

He surprised you with a laugh, but only moments later, Will was gesturing for you to head inside in front of him. “Sure fuckin’ do.” 

— 

 Both of you dozed off a little before midnight, the TV playing some action movie from Netflix in the background. 

You woke up a few hours later, Will snoring quietly on the couch next to you, and when you stood, he didn’t move. He must have had a long day. You covered him with a blanket and then headed over for the laptop that had Frankie’s tracker displayed on the screen. 

He was still far south of where you were. For a minute or two, you watched the motion of the dot that signified his position as it moved East along the bank of the creek, wondering what he was doing and what he was feeling. 

By the information that was also on the screen, you saw that there were still hours until sunrise - and when Frankie would return. The thought of laying back down - that time on the bed instead of the couch - wasn’t appealing, and so you decided to go outside and enjoy the darkness for a little while. It’ll relax me. The sounds and the smell, and … 

Slipping your shoes back on, you grabbed the gun - but not the holster - from where you’d set it earlier and headed for the door. “Where you goin’?” Peering back at Will, you saw that he’d opened his eyes, one hand rubbing the sleep from them. “It’s -”

“Just outside for a few minutes.” Tightening your hand on the door handle, you smiled. “Need to stretch my legs, and I didn’t want to risk waking you up.” 

“Take the gun.” He cleared his throat. “Just in case.” You held it up so that you could see it, and when Will nodded, you went through the door, closing it softly behind you. 

You looked around, eyeing the circle of light that was provided from the ones strung above you and then sank down onto one of the chairs near the firepit. Moments later, you set the weapon down on the ground beside you. You couldn’t see much of the sky through the trees, but the moon was bright, and it was only when you stifled a yawn with one hand that you looked away, humming as you rubbed your eyes. 

You and Will had gone over a lot while you sipped your beers, but the thing you took away from his companionship was that the nights spent waiting for Frankie were usually very uneventful - and that being there with someone was a welcome change of pace. 

He filled in the logbook and then let you flip through the previous entries. While you clicked around through Frankie’s previous location records, he stepped outside to call his wife. They had a routine, and the fact that you were one of six - seven if you counted Yovanna - people that were included in it wasn’t lost on you. 

You’d also skirted the topic of just how close you and Frankie were. And based on Will’s posture and facial expressions, you had an idea that he was well aware of exactly how serious it was between you. That was fine with you - he was one of Frankie’s closest friends, and since Pope was also aware of where things stood, you figured that the others weren’t far behind because even though they didn’t know you well, they did know him. 

It scared you more than a little that things were moving so quickly, but you didn’t regret letting it happen that way. “Not with you, Frankie.” With a sigh, you pulled your phone out and opened your photo album, swiping through and finding one of the pictures of the two of you. You were both grinning at the camera, Frankie’s arm around your shoulders, and one of your hands holding onto his, fingers linked. 

You didn’t know what you were going to say to him when he came back and was human again, and you hoped that whatever you did manage to get out, he believed. Because I’m sure he’s still worried, even though he saw that I really wasn’t afraid of him. Sighing, you flipped back to the actual camera and then swiped to take a video, reversing the view before you pressed record. 

“Hey, you.” Staring at the screen, you thought for a few seconds. “It’s been a while since you left, but I just … I know you might not believe me when we talk next, and I wanted to tell you a couple things that I’ve been thinking about all night.” You stood and took a few steps further away from the RV, trying to be mindful of the fact that Will was likely sleeping, and the window above the couch was partially open. “I wasn’t crying earlier because I was scared. I wasn’t crying because I was … disgusted by what I saw.” 

You stopped moving, looking off to the side and then back at the phone. “I was crying because I’m upset that you’ve had to deal with this alone. I’m upset that you have to downplay how much it hurts to become the wolf every month. I’m just … I couldn’t do it, Frankie. Before I saw you tonight, I had no idea. Everything I thought was wrong.” 

You meant the transformation, but you also meant that you’d been wrong about werewolves in general. “I hope you’ll believe me when we talk, you know? I don’t want you to second guess this or me or the way I feel about you.” Because I don’t. 

You went quiet, staring at the small screen, and with the absence of your voice, you realized that the woods around you were silent, too. You didn’t hear insects, and the owl from earlier was quiet. But we’re deep in the woods. There’s always noise. You looked away from the phone and then back at it, your hold on the device tightening. Unless there’s a predator close by. 

It could have been anything - a panther, a bear, a bobcat - but the same instincts that led you to Florida told you that it was something else… and that it was watching you. And it’s close, because it wouldn’t be quiet otherwise. You had the RV between you and the forest on one side, and thanks to the phone’s camera, you could sort of see what was happening behind you. But I want to turn around. I want the RV at my back, and … 

“It’s important that you know this, Frankie.” Your voice shook and you winced at the sound, your eyes moving over the phone screen as you peered into the darkness displayed on it. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Because I …” You trailed off at the sight of a pair of glowing eyes flashing on it from somewhere behind you, but they blinked out moments later. Whatever it is is big. “Frankie there’s something behind me.” You whispered the confession, fighting back tears. “The gun’s by the chair, I don’t have it on me and … fuck. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’m so sorry.” 

It wasn’t him - you could sense that it wasn’t him, and the eyes - though you’d only seen them briefly - were a different color than Frankie’s. And even though it was all the way across the clearing and in the woods, you knew that you wouldn’t have time to get from where you stood to your gun before it made it to you - especially if it was as big as or bigger than he was. 

You had one play - and likely only moments to attempt it. “If this goes bad, Frankie … at least you’ll know what it looks like.” You flipped the camera and then spun so that the RV was behind you and you were facing the darkness… and  then you opened your mouth and screamed. 

“Will!” 

—    

[chainsxwsmile-personal]

Aarini Dhar’s journals, which will act as a segway into my fanfiction!

Text under readmore:

Dear Journal,

It was a success!!! I can’t believe that it actually worked, and I can’t even begin to describe the world I’m seeing now!

Stacy and I had been waiting for several days now, but the monster finally showed up again at 0302 like clockwork. The creature’s been doing this for weeks now, but no one else in the household believed Stacy. At least, not until I arrived at the foster family’s house, of course. I must have tricked the monster into assuming that only Stacy was in the room because it only ever approached her bed—and then did nothing! It roared, sure, but left immediately after Stacy screamed. I slept in my usual sleeping place (under the desk) until the second time the monster arrived to scare her. I could’ve sworn I saw indoor lighting coming from the closet, even though I know the bulb blew days ago and the Snyder’s still hadn’t bothered to fix it.

I needed to know what was behind that door. Worst case scenario, I would get eaten by what other ungodly creatures were also in that closet-world. Best-case scenario, I could skip a few weeks from this hellhole. Anything to get away from the Snyder’s. So, Stacy and I kept up the usual rhythm: the monster entered the room, Stacy screamed, and from underneath my desk, I checked out glimpses of whatever world was inside the closet. After weeks of preparation, I made a monster disguise and a plan. I waited underneath a blanket next to the closet door every night, all night until the monster arrived again. And as soon as that door cracked open and the monster moved aside, I slid past them—dressed in my best monster disguise, a hard hat, and a vest! Jeremy from next door said that “nobody ever stops to question anybody in a hard hat and construction vest”, so it helped explain my appearance! After that, I just followed the Exit signs.

I can’t write for too long, but this world looks so similar to ours that I’m wondering if it’s almost like a mirror dimension. Like our world but with monsters instead of people. I fished out a few coins from a water fountain for bus fare, and I’m on my way to a Monsters University. Hopefully, I’ll be able to blend in a little better with a backpack there.

-Aarini Dhar

Dear Journal,

I managed to get on campus during freshmen orientation week, so it looks like luck is on my side! No one would bother a lost-looking freshman wandering around and exploring the campus. I snagged someone’s visitor pass for an added measure, but it looks like visitors are only allowed to sleep on campus with permission from the teachers. Looks like I’ll have to act the part of ‘student’, instead. I think I found where a good hideout might be—there’s a place called the Troll Bridge and a bunch of tunnels next to it! It might make for a good temporary stay while I do some research.

On the plus side, I don’t think I have to worry about getting eaten. Even though it seems monsters make careers out of scaring kids, they’re actually AFRAID of us! Apparently, we’re toxic and dangerous. And I’m not talking just snotty kindergarteners—everyone! All humans are, apparently, toxic or poisonous to monsters and everyone thinks they’ll DIE if a human touches them! They even make movies where human kids are villains—it’s crazy!

I can definitely say for a fact that humans are NOT toxic to monsters, though. I’ve been on campus for about a week now, and no one’s gotten sick. I’ve shaken hands—and claws, tentacles, and talons (!) —with a bunch of monsters and no one has shown any effects! I wonder why they keep telling themselves this… Maybe to protect their world? Not all humans are friendly, after all…

-Aarini Dhar

[a-mel0n]

This stupid "Your Name" Bucktommy AU won't leave my brain, and while I don't have enough faith in my writing skills to actually write the damn thing (and it would be my first fanfic... ever?? and that's a project that seems a bit too big for me lmao), I DID write down what I'm picturing some of the "rules" Buck and Tommy have for each other while in the other's body. Mostly just for fun. (Because Tommy would be switching in 2006, the iPhone does not exist yet, so all of his notes are written in an actual physical journal. All of Buck's notes would be on the Notes app of his phone)

TOMMY: 1) Evan, stop running into burning buildings when you don’t have to while in my body. If I wake up in a hospital bed for the fifth time this month, I might actually lose it.

its part of the job to save as many ppl as possible. also u don’t even feel the pain when i get injured in ur body.

You’re right, I don’t. Unfortunately, the pain from having a wooden beam fall on you doesn't just magically go away when we swap. Just... be more careful? Please?

fine. i’ll try and keep ur hospital visits to a minimum.

2) Can you stop flirting with people on calls? Or at the very least give them your number and not mine? In the last week alone my contact list has nearly doubled because you keep giving people my number. 

dude its not my fault you’re more popular while i’m you. just think of it as me being ur wingman! how u dont have a girlfriend is beyond me btw. hot chicks love firefighters and ur a good looking dude

Jesus Christ, Evan. For the last time, I’m single by choice.

3) Don’t shower while in my body

already dont

4) Don’t go to the bathroom while in my body 

done

5) In fact, unless you’re at work, don’t change any of my clothes while in my body. 

fair

6) Do you really need to spend so much of my paychecks on cooking supplies? I have enough pots and pans already. 

whats the point of a pantry if its half empty. be thankful ur getting actual food now via my leftovers instead of the utter tragedy that was the state of ur fridge when we first started swapping places.

7) Don’t make a scene while at work. 

your boss sucks ass and his stupid orders are going to get people killed. im not gonna listen to him if hes making bad calls while lives are on the line

Evan.

8) Don’t pick up the phone when my dad calls.

got it

BUCK: 1) quit going to eddie’s basketball pickup games. he keeps inviting me while i’m in my own body and its getting harder and harder to come up with excuses as to why i can’t go. it's kinda awkward.

I thought you’d be more grateful, Evan. You’re the coolest guy on the court when I’m you. 

2) are you making movie references when ur me? bc chim keeps asking when i got so “cultured” and the other day maddie asked when i watched the princess bride. 

You haven’t seen the Princess Bride? I’m leaving you a surprise for tomorrow. Check your couch when you wake up. 

did you spend my OWN money on a dvd??? i don’t even own a dvd player. i own every streaming service imaginable.

3) keep the finger guns to a minimum?? idk why you do them so much but both hen and chim have said smth abt it

4) if u get a call from someone called connor or kameron on my phone just let it go to voicemail its personal stuff and i'll deal with it

Evan, you could have told me you agreed to be a sperm donor yourself. Finding out because Connor and Kameron showed up at the fire house was more of a shock than finding out over these memos would have been. 

they did what?????

5) don’t talk to my parents

Done.

6) No rule about undressing? 

dude idc. i’m not gonna stop you from taking a piss in my body if u need to. as long as you like. don’t have sex with someone while you’re me? oh wait hang on i DO have a rule about undressing

7) DON’T HAVE ANY RANDOM HOOK UPS IN MY BODY. 

Wasn’t planning on it, but good to know. 

[fordobsessed]

Wait, does it actually imply bill did that to ford when he was drunk??? Oh god that’s so horrible I had no idea…what line implies it??? I don’t have TBOB so I have no idea

I was planning on making a post talking about this anyway, because of how much I’ve seen this shit.

TBOB spoilers btw

So, there are pages in TBOB where Ford gets drunk. As I’ve said before it’s fucked up because when Ford says he doesn’t drink, bills exact response is “I’ll convince you tomorrow night!” 

And then, when Ford gets immensely drunk, he writes in his journal (this is just a small bit of it) 

“he did a dream? karaoke? And then one thing led to another thing and normally I try to sober but..”

It’s the “and then one thing led to another” line.

Did I think that implied they did anything sexual? No. 

But some of the fandom took the line differently. And instead of talking about and recognizing how messed up that would be, their response was “lmao he fucked the triangle!!!!” And it was used as shipping fuel/a joke.

Do they seriously not stop and consider for one second that if they did something while drunk, that would be extremely, extremely fucked up? 

It’s been established quite clearly that Bill manipulated Ford into drinking. If they did anything then, that is assault. And like a rb tag on my post said, reeks of noncon.

That isn’t something to be taken lightly, to make jokes about, or used to ship them.

The reaction of people who interpreted the line in that way is horrible and the lack of media literacy is genuinely insane to me.

But in response to your original ask specifically… no, I don’t think anything sexual happened between them, and I don’t think that is what’s being implied. 

It was just being talked about on the rb tags of my post because of the way people who interpreted the line as ‘they did something sexual’ were treating it.

[kesbeacon]

Reading your sock post, I realized you might just be the person to ask a question that a friend posted on FB: a knitting worldbuilding question!

In A Tale of Two Cities, Madame DeFarge knits the names of targets for the guillotine into her work. What was her coding scheme? The friend speculated that Dickens had met Charles Babbage at some point and was doing something with binary. After poking around a bit on the internet, I decided Dickens made it up, not knowing anything about knitting.

I did find schemes for encoding messages in two dimensions, possibly using colors. But such a scheme seems unlikely to encompass 26 letters and 5 accents in a way that can quickly encode a name (since there was a fair bit of volume to keep up with at the time).

What do you think? Is there a plausible scheme today? And would such a scheme have a chance of being available at the close of the 18th century?

So, I'm not an expert on this either! But I'll give it a go.

The first thing I remembered was that this has been done, albeit long after Dickens' day. I have seen videos and posts in which people talk about knitting as spycraft during the world wars. The challenge I then had was 'is this all just a giant game of internet telephone?'

And, my friend, this led me down a rabbit hole. I’ll get to your question in a bit, I just need to go on a detour about checking your sources. Because most of what I could find online was from sites with names like ilikeknitting500 dot com or girlbosshistory dot net (not real examples), all with the same vague story – in Belgium, the resistance would have people sitting by trainyards knitting, and they would drop a stitch for one kind of train, and purl for another, and so on and so forth. As a result, the government banned exporting knitting patterns! But they can’t even agree on what world war it was or which government banned it.

So where does this claim come from?

It took me a little while to find real articles with sources. What I eventually came away with was an Atlas Obscura article that has citations. One citation was a book I can't access by someone who, while I can't find any evidence she's a historian herself, has been endorsed by at least a couple. The link did give me an excerpt about a woman who would use her knitting to cover for tapping information about troop movements in code to her children below, who would write it instead of doing their schoolwork. In a similar vein, I could find information on people who used knitting to hide their spy work, as in the case of Phyllis Latour.

The other relevant citation was to a journal article in a (student-run, admittedly, but in some fields this isn't abnormal) peer-reviewed Open Access journal by an Jacqueline Witkowski, who is now an Associate Professor of Art, even if she wasn't then. This was the best of the bunch, because this cited a BBC Radio 4 program on the history of MI6. I thought this was going to be the end of the road for me, but then I realised you don’t need a TV licence to listen to the radio and that I do have a BBC account, so I logged in and listened to it and – bingo.

Alan Judd, a writer and ‘former soldier and diplomat’ according to Wikipedia, is the biographer of Mansfield Cumming, the original head of MI6, and he tells us about Belgian professionals recruiting little old ladies to go sit by train stations and knit, with the dropped and purled stitches. (He mentions nothing about banning sending knitting patterns.) Crucially, this is definitely during the First World War. I can’t access the book (and certainly can’t be bothered), but I would call this reasonably credible – it’s not as good as something from an actual archive, and I don’t automatically trust the BBC, but this radio series seems serious and also has the involvement of Actual MI6. So I think this is about as good as I’m going to get in a single evening.

We still don’t have the other half of the claim, the censorship. Witkowski says, “This [...] led to the Office of Censorship’s ban on posted knitting patterns in the Second World War, in case they contained coded messages.” There is a citation. But the citation is a Telegraph column by people involved in QI. QI, or Quite Interesting, is a British comedy panel show that I would place in the ‘edutainment’ category – it is an endless source of weird little facts, some of which are even true. Wikipedia has a section on mistakes and fact correction, and I can tell you from having watched the programme that it is usually correct on a surface level, but if you know anything about the relevant topic you’ll immediately start going ‘well, it’s actually more complicated than that…’

The QI column says, “During the Second World War the Office of Censorship banned people from posting knitting patterns abroad in case they contained coded messages,” and gives no sources. On historyhub.history.gov, someone has asked if there are any primary sources for this claim. Textual Reference Archives II Branch (RR2RA) replies that ‘some articles specify that this was a practice by the British government, whereas others attribute it to the United States,’ and gives the asker links to the records of the American Office of Censorship, and where they can learn more about British censorship. There are no more replies. I would hazard a guess that QI meant the Americans; UK censorship was handled by the Ministry of Information, which is common knowledge here and not something they would fuck up.

I originally was going to wash my hands of it, but then I thought… just one primary source? Just try? So I looked at a US government printout of their censorship regulations from 1943. No mention of knitting patterns, but all printed matter is banned for export to Europe, which would presumably encompass commercial knitting patterns by default.

So that’s that tangent, I wrote, thinking this was over. Because Charles Dickens died in 1870 and published ToTC in 1859, long before ANY of this happened! Also, Madame DeFarge’s code is far more sophisticated than any of this stuff. So let’s get back on track.

Your friend is not the only person to have speculated on the Babbage connection – Paul Curzon of Queen Mary University London also raises the possibility that Dickens was thinking of Babbage and Lovelace’s work –

Wait. Is that… I thought I’d escaped my tangent! But Curzon has dragged me back in! He adds an interesting note at the end of the article, though he doesn’t cite it - “In the Second World War, the United States censors held on to a letter that contained a knitting pattern so they could knit the jumper in case it did contain a message. Ultimately they banned people from posting knitting patterns overseas at all (along with playing chess by post) in case people were hiding messages in them.” I wish he’d cited it, but this is at least a real academic – a little more credible than QI! I hoped that this would be the source of the QI claim, but unfortunately I think it post-dates the QI article – it’s hard to tell. But QI could easily have got hold of that censorship decision.

YANKS SELF BACK WITH THE BIG HOOK.

Dickens was, in short, probably making an almost science-fictional prediction. He moved in the Babbage/Lovelace circle and would have known about their work. What Curzon does not say is that this is also the age of Morse code, which came into use in the 1840s, and the beginning of Boolean algebra! It’s easy to imagine him taking these ideas, along with any knitting knowledge he may have had, and coming up with the concept. Madame DeFarge is ahead of her time, but not too far ahead of Dickens's.

Now, I’m not a Dickens scholar, but I happen to be friends with someone who is and is also a knitter. So I’ve asked her if he might’ve known diddly squat about knitting, and we’ll see what she says.

…

How might it have worked? Well, knitting is versatile. You can, for instance, knit Doom. But Doom is already binary, because we have established systems of binary coding. DeFarge does not, and it wouldn’t be intuitive to convert these into names, especially before Boolean algebra. She might’ve had a Morse code-like framework. Morse code isn’t actually binary – it’s sort of trinary, because you need to space the letters. This isn’t necessarily a problem; you can use a yarnover (followed by knitting/purling two together, obv) to separate the letters, with, say, knit being dot and purl being dash. If you’re experienced, you might be able to read it as fabric, but it would be easiest to read it back in reverse as you unravel it.

Knitting this would likely be pretty quick. She can’t be using actual Morse code for the very simple reason that she pre-dates Mr Morse, and I also don’t know how actual Morse code handles French diacritics, but it took me, a person who has never done this before and doesn't understand Morse and had to make some modifications on the fly, about quarter of an hour to knit the Morse code alphabet (minus Z bc I reached the end of a row and got bored). It would be easier if you were using colours; you could have one colour for dot, one for dash, and use purl stitches to mark the ends of words. I cba to do that right now though.

In summary, clearly Madame DeFarge is an extremely adept code-maker of a kind that is… easier to have in fiction than in real life. She's ahead of her time and in some ways ahead of twentieth-century spycraft, but not implausibly ahead of Dickens's. And I’m a fucking nerd.

And @ the internet at large, generalised-you should check your fucking sources.

[writefightandflightclub]

Blorbo thought of the day #3

Dear Diary, I met an asshole. (Nathan Bateman x reader)

A/n: quick little Nathan x reader dialogue / blurb. Bickering / sass, bit of silliness, slight fluff. (Edited a bit since first posting!)

***

“It’s rude to do that,” you scold, as Nathan leans over your shoulder, peeking at your scrawled journal entry. You wrap your arm, protecting the page from his prying eyes - a little too late though, you fear.

“It’s rude to violate your NDA, sweetheart.” You scowl at him. “Okay. Not rude. Illegal… But also rude.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. If you’rewriting about my robots, I’m gonna have to confiscate that.”

“I’m not writing about your robots,” you lie, but Nathan simply eyes you over the rim of his glasses, arcing a thick eyebrow. You tut in concession. “Fine. You got me.”

He extends his hand. “Give it here then.”

“Woah. No way. I’m not giving you my diary.”

His face twists in distaste. “You keep a diary? What are you, 12?”

You study him and hum pensively at the thought of Nathan employing similar habits. “Hmm, yeah. You know what? I can totally see why self-reflection really wouldn’t appeal to you.”

He perches one pert ass cheek on the short edge of your desk. “Dear diary,” he ponders, considering what form his own entry might take. “Today I was fucking amazing.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smirks at you. “You’re right. Would get a little repetitive.”

You fail to return his smile, instead, offering an alternative. “Dear diary. Today I ate 3 packets of hot Cheetos in my sweats. Almost rubbed one out right there on the couch - before remembering the effects of chilli dust. Lucky escape.”

You are satisfied when the smirk drops from his face for a moment. He clears his throat as your assessment hits a little on the nose. “Whatever. I’d still rather be me on my worst day.” You scoff. “Anyway. Seriously. I need to take that.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Relax. I’ll redact anything in violation and hand it right back to you.”

“Um, emphatically no.”

“Oh please. Worried about me uncovering your deep, dark secrets? Do you think I’m clamouring for your pedestrian internal monologue? You don’t need to keep any secrets from me, honey. I’m literally not interested.”

You clutch the notebook to your chest all the same, and you mumble something under your breath. Nathan urges you to speak up and you repeat it, a little louder. “But… I’ve.. um. I’ve written quite a lot about you.”

He flashes you a lopsided smile, all smug. “Of course you have, honey.” If it’s possible, his tone grows even more grandiose. “I suppose it’ll be interesting to read how you mere mortals perceive me.”

At that, you’re just about done.

You arc an eyebrow, and you hand the notebook over to him. “Knock yourself out, Nathan.”

***

“‘Dear Diary, I met an asshole.’” Nathan quotes, storming into the living area with your opened notebook balanced across one broad palm. “Seriously?”

You scoff from your vantage point on the couch as he eyes you indignantly, immediately reaching for the remote to turn down the volume. This is going to be good. “Fun read?”

“Trite, rambling, redundant.”

You stifle a smile. “I dunno, Nate. You seem invested.”

“Surprisingly, some of your comments were actually quite insightful,” he admits, with a cock of his head.

You nod in emphatic agreement. “‘Dear diary, I met an asshole.’”

He scowls at you. “Not that one.”

You stretch your legs out, kicking your feet up onto the coffee table. “I dunno. Seems on the money to me. I mean. What kind of asshole reads someone’s diary?”

He sighs, and you scooch over a little so he can plonk himself down next to you, dropping the notebook in your lap. You leaf through it, finding that text on particular pages had been redacted with thick black marker. He’s really gone through every single bit of it.

“Happy now?” you ask him, risking a glance and finding him sat sulkily, arms folded over his shapely chest.

“No.”

“Okay.” You don’t ask him to elaborate, and instead reach to turn up the volume - until he interjects, that is.

“I expected…”

“Expected what, Nathan? Expected me to be impressed by you or something?”

He scratches his buzzed head. “Well duh.”

You turn you body in towards him on the couch, leaning one elbow against the back edge and propping your head so you can get a good look at him.

“What do you care anyway? Last I heard you were uninterested in my ‘pedestrian internal monologue’.”

He tuts. Wafting his palm through the air and his eyes fluttering closed in frustration. “Never mind.”

“Okay.”

You’re happy to oblige him. In fact, you are about to turn back to the tv once more until-

“-You really think I’m an asshole?” His voice is soft. Vulnerable. At least - more so than you’ve ever heard it. It gives you pause. Subdues the edge of your bite.

“Well… When I first met you? Hell yeah.”

His dark, calculating eyes study you. “And how about now?”

Your cheeks heat subtly under his gaze, burning with self-consciousness. “Well,” you dismiss. “That’s redacted.”

“Come on.” He elbows you gently in the ribs. “I know all your secrets now.”

“Not all,” you counter, attempting to come off mysterious.

“No?”

“Nuh uh.” You smile at him, beckoning him closer with a waft of your hand, until he leans in placing your mouth a hair’s breadth from the shell of his ear. “Now, Nathan? You’ve been downgraded to annoying.”

His eyes roll into oblivion as you laugh and tease him.

“Come on, Nathan. It’s not as though you like me any better, right?”

For once, he seemingly doesn’t have anything else to say. His gaze simply flits over your face, his eyes -dare you say it- warm. That is, until he grabs up a notebook from the table, turns to the back page and starts scribbling. Then, the smug, arrogant countenance makes its return.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing exactly what I think of you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hmm.”

He scribbles hastily, keeping the page covered from your view, and smirking to himself all the while, his mouth dragging up beneath the raven brush of his beard.

Then, Nathan unceremoniously places the closed book on the table right in front of you, before wafting (smugly) out of the room.

You eye the book with intense interest. As though suddenly, nothing else exists. You eye it enough that you can feel your gaze almost burning a hole in the back cover.

Exactly what Nathan thinks of you? And he left it right there? In front of you?

Of course, after a moment’s deliberation, you can’t help yourself. You reach for it, arm outstretched.

“Ah ah, princess.” You jump out of your skin, as Nathan’s tinny voice bleeds through the intercom. “What kind of asshole reads someone’s diary?”

You. You think you’re that exact kind of asshole, and what’s more, he knows it.

You reach for the book and flip to last page, and you begin to read.

“Dear diary…”

[nomsfaultau]

thank you so much for writing mandatory family reunion. i just reread it for the eighth time. i think im going to dedicate my life to life to reading your other sbi fics until you update again. also; do you have any tips for committing to fics and not leaving them half-finished?

ahhhh that’s so sweet glad you enjoyed! As for writing fics, having it be your special interest really helps. But for more general advice on finishing:

-Don’t stick to just one story. Which seems counter intuitive! But inevitably you’re going to hit a snag in one story. So instead of stopping writing at all, switch projects. Writing involves a whole bunch of thinking, and stuff needs time to percolate in the back of your head. But having a small project to work on in the mean time keeps you engaged in the writing process, gives you practice, makes you feel like you’re making progress, and allows time to work out the other story. I personally have 1-2 main projects, Fault and MFR, and then rotate a couple back burner stories that I work on whenever I get inspiration and fully expect to have very slow progress and possibly never finish. Short stories, one shots, hell even just writing little one off scenes that don’t go anywhere. It’s a way to keep writing fun and thus you’re more likely to continue working on the stuff you’re trying to complete. Don’t feel bad if there’s breaks between working on your main project. Writing involves a lot of thinking and it takes time to do that.

-Devoting time to do that thinking also significantly helps. When you’re falling asleep can be a good time to rotate stories in your head. Could also be if you’re walking from place to place, or brushing your teeth, or other little gaps in the day. Even if you’re not physically writing, it’s still part of the process and can make it easier when you actually sit down to write because you know what scene you’re most excited to work on. Also, talking over your story idea with a friend is a great way to stay motivated if you can get over the mortifying ordeal of being known. You can bounce ideas off them, and other people’s investment in a project can be a great motivator to finish. Like legit a single ao3 comment once stopped me from my plan to abandon a fic. Reminding yourself why you (and other people) like the story makes it easier to want to continue.

-Keeping a rough outline of what you envision for the story can give you a road map to how close to done you are and where to go next. Just like you can hop between projects, I find jumping around the plot time line to write what scene I’m most interested in atm keeps me going instead of writing everything in order. Though, all writers have different degrees of plot planning, so that depends on your style.

-Art! I’m an artist, and while writing definitely fuels what I draw, I find doodling cool scenes I want to write really inspires me to keep going. This sorta falls under the same category of continuing to think about the story and motivating you to finish. -I found keeping a writing journal has improved how I view my writing. Basically, I’ll jot down a bullet point list of scenes worked on that week/month. Writing is a very slow process, so seeing a timeline of actual progression on a story makes it feel like I’m actually getting more out of my head and onto paper. I also jot down what ideas for scenes I came up with since that’s also part of writing, and might include a chill no stakes writing goal for that period, like work on X or Y project, or a particular scene. Sometimes my goal is just ‘write at least one sentence’. I give it lots of leeway, and accept that the muse may just be somewhere else that week. And if the goal isn’t met, no sweat! Life can get busy at times and it’s more important that you aren’t beating yourself up if it’s been awhile since you last touched a project. Forcing yourself to write a scene that isn’t ready won’t result in a good scene or an happy writer. Switch projects, give yourself time to think about it, take care of yourself, etc.

And, legitimately, don’t be afraid to abandon a piece. Maybe you’ll come back to it, maybe you won’t. It can feel disheartening to feel like you can’t seem to finish a project, but unfinished pieces also do a lot for you: they hone your craft, allow you a creative outlet, give you scenes that could potentially be reworked for later pieces, and most importantly were hopefully fun to write! Story crafting is a hobby that should bring you joy, not frustration and shame.

Like, I have stories that will never see the light of day and are just so I can have fun and poke it with a stick occasionally. I’m 100% confident in saying that every author will have tenfold the number of unfinished wips compared to complete works. That’s just part of the creative process: exploring different worlds to find the one you want to write.

Perhaps a fic might never get finished, but in the wise words of Technoblade: “if you enjoy it, it’s not time wasted, no?”

(Now, I think he was talking about murdering people, but the point still stands.)

[chaosclimber]

driver

“I’m not doing it.”

Hob grinned a bit–there’d been some gentle ribbing between them on the subject already, and he was happy to slip into the well-worn argument. The kids in question were away, anyway, it couldn’t do any harm. “Dream…come on, you know you’re more qualified than me for this. Besides, do you really want an ADHD-er to try to teach another ADHD-er to drive?”

“I don’t want to be in any vehicle either of our sons are operating. I would prefer they not drive at all, but I know that’s a foolish wish.” Dream swept passed, not bothering to take the pile of clothes he'd been folding. Hob stood and watched for a moment, dumbfounded. The reaction was bigger than he'd expected–he honestly thought the argument was all in fun. It wouldn't be the first playful disagreement they'd had over the kids as teenager-dom posed new challenges for them. 

He started to follow behind, but stopped himself a few steps in. Dream was a very different person than Hob. For whatever reason, this had upset him, and Dream was the kind of person who preferred space when upset. Much as Hob wanted to just go and hug him, that simply wasn’t the best choice. So instead, he veered from the hallway and retreated to the kitchen, pulling out the leftover rice, a few eggs, pre-cooked chicken breast, and a few veggies from the fridge. Homemade fried rice was one of the first dishes Hob had cooked for Dream, and it was a favorite of theirs when a quick meal was needed. Tonight it wasn’t necessarily about the speed, though. He hoped it could be a comfort. 

Dream didn’t emerge from the bedroom until dinner was ready, and when he did, he seemed…withdrawn. Hob held himself back from pushing, from asking immediately what the matter was. He could damn well guess, now that he’d had some time to reflect. What he remained unsure of–more importantly, really–was whether Dream would actually want to talk about it. 

Dream held his silence. 

Well. Hob was never one to disappoint a captive audience. He chattered on–about his day, about his students and their determination to win the little contest he’d set up to let them earn extra credit (find the crudest joke they could in a period piece of literature and deliver it properly when he least expected it. Today’s attempt included the ‘your mother’ joke from Titus Andronicus at the end of class, right as he was taking a sip of coffee. The three who’d done it were the front-runners, so far.), about how his journaling attempt was going (abysmally–it was Friday, and he had managed to actually use the fancy set up he’d spent  over an hour setting up a grand total of once.), about anything that came to his mind. 

It wasn’t until Hob was clearing away the dishes that Dream finally spoke. “...They’re growing up.” The words were quiet, Dream’s already low voice gaining just a bit of gravel, as it did when he had been crying recently. He was still sat at the table, shoulders pulling in and up. In that moment, Dream seemed to transform from a person into the sad, wet cat one just happened to find in a dumpster. 

Hob just wanted to hug him, dammit. He took a breath and resisted, though–he knew Dream tended to actually dislike touch when he was upset, so he would wait until he asked for the contact. “Yeah. Not a fun realization, that one.”

“...I don’t want them to grow up.” He shook his head. “It was not too long ago Orpheus would sit in my lap and beg for story time. Now he’s going to drive. How far will he go from us once he is able?”

“Oh, dove…” Hob paused at the confession. God, he was familiar with that realization. Honestly, he’d been putting off looking at it head-on, himself. At least until he could schedule some time to watch brainless rom-coms with a pint of ice cream (yes, he had the coping methods of a teenage girl dealing with her first break-up, no, he would brook no judgment on that fact). “I get it. But we can’t stop them, you know that.” He sighed. “Look, I’ll teach them both how to drive–I was gonna, anyway, I know you don’t really like driving in the first place. We just…have to have a little faith that they’ll come back. They know they can come back, whenever they need to.” 

Dream sighed, and looked up at Hob. “I…could do with a hug, now. If you are willing.”

And that was all the invitation Hob needed to drag Dream to the livingroom and settle them both in for a cuddle. 

As it turned out, they needn’t have worried. Robyn was a natural at driving–he couldn’t engage in conversation while he was behind the wheel, but that was fine by Hob. And Orpheus was nervous enough about it that he didn’t end up getting his license right away–which was fine by Dream. 

@domaystic All my fills will be cross posted to AO3

[devskindawritingblog]

I remembered to send the ask to your writing blog this time!

Okay, here’s my idea for Shauna: she and reader aren’t dating yet, just best friends (sorry Jackie) and reader doesn’t know what to get her for Christmas. Then Shauna accidentally leaves her journal at their house, and they read it to try to get an idea for her gift. But instead they find all her entries about how she’s in love with reader. Shauna finds out and gets really mad, but she’s actually just embarrassed and scared that she ruined their friendship. But then reader kisses her and tells her they love her too. Turns out the perfect Christmas gift for Shauna was a girlfriend

Christmas Confessions

Shauna shipman x reader

AN: My last Yellowjackets Christmas fic! And of course my lovely tumblr wife requested it😘. I made the reader and Shauna besties and didn’t want to try and include Jackie somehow so I just don’t mention her. Shauna’s text is in green. And I put like the journal flashback things are in italics And the word count is I think the biggest at almost 1.8k. Also now that my Christmas things are done I’ll totally take requests. I’ll take requests about anyone that I have written for so far.

You and Shauna have been best friends since kindergarten. You have always been inseparable. Always having sleepovers together even joining the soccer team in grade 9. Everyone at school knows about you too and how much you care for one another.

One time in grade 2 a few of the boys were making fun of you and pushed you and that was the first time Shauna punched someone for you. That was when you first realized how much you would do for each other. Sure, Shauna got in trouble but it was grade 2 so she didn’t catch that much slack.

After that point no one messed with either of you. People were scared of Shauna and they were scared of what Shauna would do if they hurt you. And it was like that even in highschool.

————————————————————————

December 12, 1996

You and Shauna are both in your senior year now. She came over for her weekly sleepover. The two of you were hanging out like you normally do. Watching a movie, listening to music, and sometimes just laying there together.

That was the thing you loved about Shauna; the silences were never awkward. You could lay there and talk or just sit. Sometimes Shauna would write in her journal while you did homework.

 You start to think she loves that journal more than you. She always had it around. You learned early that she is very private about it. So you don’t ask to read it anymore. She’s your best friends but she can keep her thoughts and feelings private if she truly wants to.

Shauna had already left after having dinner with your family. Her mom had been in a rush to go somewhere. You go back into your room and that’s when you notice Shauna's journal sitting right on your bed. She must have forgotten it because she was rushing. 

You move it off your bed and place it on your nightstand. You will give it to her at school on Monday you think to yourself as you lay down on your bed. An hour passes every so often you glance over at the journal. 

You realize you still need ideas for what to get Shauna for Christmas. You look over at the journal and grab it. You get a good idea. You might as well take a little look to find possible gift ideas. It couldn't possibly hurt, right?

The cover has her name printed neatly with a pen. For a second you hesitate hoping nothing too personal is in her journal. It will only be for a few minutes you say to yourself. That reassures you and you flip open the first page.

————————————————————————

June 28 1996. You knew Shauna got a new journal at the end of grade 11, because you two found it at the mall together. You picked it up and showed it to her.

“Look Shaunie, it's green. Don’t you need a new one?” You said to her. Shauna ended up buying it. What you didn't notice back then was how Shauna looked at you that day or any day really.

The entry is pretty normal. It talks about your guys mall trip. And how you guys got ice cream. You smile to yourself as you remember how much fun you had with her. It talks about how you got ice cream all over your face and Shauna had to get a napkin and wipe it off.You finally notice how she talks about you. Sure you're close and give each other compliments but this feels different. You shrug it off and keep searching.

The next few entries are all in the summer. Mostly talking about the family vacation she went on .You flip to another entry.

————————————————————————

August 5 1996. You and Shauna were at her house. It explains what you guys did that day. Shauna had gotten a new lip gloss for her birthday and you both were trying it out. Shauna put it on first, rubbing her lips together. She writes about how you put it on as well. You remember how much you liked the lipgloss. The lovely pink shine looked great on your lips. And Shauna definitely thought so too. In fact she goes into great detail about how much she did like it.

You pause a confused look on your face. The sudden realization hits you hard. How did you not notice? You keep reading trying to confirm if you're not going crazy. You blush as you read the last sentence. 

“I wanted to kiss them so badly.” Shauna writes with a few pink hearts around your name. You suddenly feel really guilty but also relieved. You have known you like Shauna for a while. But you have been too scared to confess. How could you ruin your relationship with her like that?

You have so many conflicting feelings. You're happy she likes you back, but nervous as to how she would respond about you snooping around in her private journal.

At this point you can't stop reading them. Each one is a different day. Each entry delves into just how big of a crush Shauna truly has. 

————————————————————————

September 25 1996.

This one was around your first few weeks of grade 12. You and Shauna were in the same English Lit class. You went over to study with her. It was a fun night. but clearly Shauna saw it differently. She spent a good paragraph talking about your silly jokes and describing just how much she loves your laugh.

————————————————————————

October 31 1996

The two of you went to Lottie's annual halloween party. Of course dressed in matching costumes. You spent a long time finding a cute costume that would match with one another. The entry sounds pretty normal except for Shauna’s clear jealousy to you playing spin the bottle with the other girls. You ended up having to kiss Natalie. It was all for fun and games but clearly Shauna didn’t think so. You read it over and Shauna sounds angry.

“It should have been me kissing them.” She finishes off the entry with that angrily scribbled in pen.

The next few entries are about the same. You feel bad for reading all her personal thoughts and feelings. But you can’t seem to stop yourself from reading. You spend 2 hours reading all of the entries. You lay in your bed contemplating what you should do?

Give it back to her?

Confront her?

Keep her in the dark?

You run through all the ideas and scenarios in your head. Your anxiety builds and builds. You decide to sleep on it, you're exhausted from all the thoughts of what could happen.

You wake up on Sunday morning rubbing your eyes as you look over and see her journal staring back at you. You get up and get dressed, determined to tell her.

Your mom went out to do some Christmas shopping and you left her journal open on your bed.

You hear a shape knock on your door. You walk over to the front door and open it to a slightly flushed Shauna. She’s dressed in her iconic flannel .

“Uh,hi, sorry for showing up unannounced but I-uh left my  journal here last night.” She is clearly nervous that you might have read it .

“Oh! Right, come in , it’s uh in my room.” You say ushering her in, your face heating up as your heart pounds.

You bring her into your room forgetting that you left her journal open on your bed. She walks in after you as you quickly grab it, closing it and passing it to her.

“Did you read it?” She says half nervous half accusatory. You stumble over your words as all your thoughts slip from your mind.

“You did read it ! You know it’s private!” She yells pacing around your bedroom. You try to jump into it to try and defend yourself but she’s not having any of it.

Shauna never yells at you and this version of her scares you. 

“Shauna plea-“ You try to say but she cuts you off to mad to listen. “You know how I feel about you don’t you? You know how I feel about you ?” She says her voice quiets a bit. 

“I can’t believe you would do this!” She starts yelling again. She sounds almost disappointed and it makes you feel worse. But you have to tell her.

You start tuning her out as you work up the courage She goes on about how mad she is. But you're not listening anymore. You step closer to her. She stops noticing the look on your face.

“What?” She starts to say before you quickly cut her off. You lean forward cupping her face and pulling her into a passionate kiss.

Her breath hitches and she gasps in shock. You pull back a little, noses touching. “Is this ok?” You say a hushed whisper. Shauna nods and smiles wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into another kiss this time.

You both end up on your bed, Shauna's journal discarded on the floor. As you too enjoy your first kiss together. Shauna’s hands behind your neck as you both make out. 

Shauna lays down with you and you smile . “I love you too. You know ?” You say as Shauna blushes remembering that you read all the things she said about you.

“Did you actually read like everything?” Shauna says quietly as she plays with the hem of your pants. You blush too a little embarrassed. “Yeah uh I did , funny enough I was trying to find an idea for a Christmas present.” You say as Shauna’s embarrassment slowly disappears.

“That stuff I wrote was a little uh well you know.” Shauna says turning shy again. “It was really cute Shaunie.” You say with a little smirk. She groans and covers her face. “Especially when you said that you wanted to fight Natalie during halloween.” You say giggling a little at Shauna’s flustered face. 

“I also heard all about how you love when I wear this shirt.” You say sitting up a little to give her a full look. Her eyes widen a little and she somehow blushes more red. 

“That's mean.” She whines but you both know now that she is loving this. She eyes you up and down and pulls you in for another kiss. “I bought you that shirt for your birthday.” 

“I know silly you went on and on about it.” You tease as you pull her down with you and pull her into another long kiss.

“You know what? It turns out I got you what you wanted for Christmas.”

“Really what was it?”

“Me.”