#this fic is way too self indulgent oh gosh

[mrs-lunna]

full savage — kim x babe

“i moved across the country to have some fun with you.”

“you will have your fun, for sure. keep trying kim.”

or, after babe's loss, kim takes the responsibility to be a good rival and help babe relax.

[magicians-abode]

Ok so, the idea just popped in my mind and I RLLY need someone to write it LMAO

Your Chilchuck fics give me LIFE so you were me go to, no questions asked

Could I get Chilchuck with a reader (preferably male, but gender neutral is also ok!) who miscalculated the ammount of anxiety medication they had left and ended up running out in the middle of the dungeon? Reader is having a hard time with their anxiety ticks and one of the side effects of going a bit too long without them is his body starting to "shut down" and become slightly like a ragdoll. Reader is still talkative and behaves as normal besides their head going to the side aggressively, flopping to the side and body parts just going all weak when they sit, flopping legit like a ragdoll (this os very self indulgent and has happened to me once, it is not good to say the least LMAO)

I completely understand if this makes you uncomfortable to write! And if so, a reader with severe generalized anxiety would work in the place of this request!

Hii! I'm sorry if this took too long ;-; since I have generalized anxiety and therefore I'm more knowledgeable about that subject, I'll write for a reader with severe generalized anxiety. I don't want to fuck up the other option with the ticks and such, because I don't know about the condition and I don't want to offend anyone. So hopefully this is okay!! love y'all thanks for being patient!

(Also changing my POV today) I'm so glad you love the way I write, it means the world to know that💗

"A Comforting Half-ling"

[Chilchuck Tims x gn!reader]

Warnings: none - fluff

Your hands were sweaty. You had been fidgeting with your fingers for a while, feeling a pit at the bottom of your stomach that made you even more anxious that you already were. The slight pang of pain in the chest that came from time to time the more you thought about the problem at hand bothering you as you sat on the corner of one of the rooms of the dungeon that the group had stopped by. Why were you so anxious? Simple. There was another party in that same room, and the rest of the group had decided to be all social and chat for a bit as they sat down to take a break from walking around.

Gosh I must look really weird sitting alone in this corner. I think they didn't hear me when I said "hi." What if they think I'm an asshole? Or a weirdo? Or a weird asshole?! you thought, looking around the room.

—Oh yeah, and that one there is (y/n), they're kinda shy— you jumped, your head snapping back to stare at the middle of the room as Laios pointed a finger back at you. Everyone's eyes were on you. Never had you wanted earth to swallow you whole and never come back so desperately before.

As the conversation resumed, the half-foot's eyes stayed on you, a curious and worried expression on his face as he watched you fidget with your hands.

He excused himself softly and walked up to them.

—Hey, why don't you come with me for a second? I need your help with something— Chilchuck pointed to the door, and your feet hurried to stand up and get out of the room as quickly as possible. Once outside that room, and away from the hearing range of the others, he sat against the wall, patting the space beside him.— What's got you so jumpy?— he looks at you, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Looking at him, you wonder if it's okay to admit out loud how anxious you were about, not just talking to people, but almost anything that had to do with being in public.— You're always behind us when we encounter other parties, and you don't seem to want to be there. I'm starting to think you're not just "shy"— Chilchuck called you out.

Beginning to explain to him how you were always on edge around people wasn't the easiest task. Admitting that, you were afraid of not being seen as capable, but being seen as a bother or even a burden ate you up every second of your life to Chilchuck was hard but worth it, because now you had someone that understood you better than any of the rest of the group. Everyone gets a little anxious at times, but you were a little extra anxious about everything.

Sitting cross-legged and now intently staring at you as you finished your through explanation of how you felt almost all the time, Chilchuck sighed and placed a comforting hand over your shoulder.— I'm really sorry you have to feel like that. I get anxious for five minutes and I hate it, so you being on edge all the damn time must suck— he offered a sympathetic apology, understanding you easily.— Whenever you feel like that, just... uh– try and tell me, or nudge me, whatever works best for you— he smiles softly, and the look on your face makes him huff softly in embarrassment and look away, retrieving his hand from your shoulder. When you give a soft laugh at his reaction he starts protesting and huffing at you, although we all know he wasn't seriously that upset.

When you hug him, however, he falls silent and sighs, taking a moment to return your embrace.

From then on Chilchuck tries his best to comfort you and help you everytime he notices you feeling anxious.

You need to buy something but can't because you're afraid of taking too long and upsetting the line behind you? He'll go with you and hold your hand. Maybe you're afraid of the guy at the stall, selling whatever it is you want to buy. Don't worry, he'll talk for you when you get nervous and start to stutter. Or even if you don't even want to talk at all.

Afraid someone is judging you? He's jokingly rolling his sleeves up and asking "Who? Who is it? Point at them and they'll never see what got them!" (They won't but that's because he's small and he kicks their knee from behind)

If you feel like everyone is judging you, though, he holds your hand and guides you away into a corridor/hallway where it's less crowded

Ever start hyperventilating? The first time he'll panic, and he'll struggle to find the words and actions to properly help you calm down. But it doesn't take him long before he has it memorized.

You're basically the only one on the group who's got Chikchuck breaking his rules about innerparty relationships, because he's grown very close and attached to you.

You're such an amazing person, you shouldn't have to struggle like this.

He gets very happy for you when you manage to do something that makes you anxious on your own. Maybe you spoke up to a whole group of people completely alone, or maybe you went and bought something that you really wanted without struggling at all.

When that happens he's sure to give you a smile and a thumbs up or a pat on your leg (you're taller than him, don't tease him about it or he'll get all red in the face and start mumbling to himself)

Overall, Chilchuck would understand you and try to help. He struggles, and sometimes you might think you're being a bother for him, but he makes sure to tell you that "no, you're not a burden nor a bother. I'm simply... not used to comforting people that often."

+ romantic established relationship headcannons

If you tell him that having him by your side is comforting, even in the slightest, he'll cough and look away, hiding his growing embarrassment.

If you ask to borrow something of his to comfort you, he's scrambling all over his words but eventually giving said item to you gladly.

You hide your face in his scarf after wrapping it around your neck and softly inhale his scent— Ah... you smell so nice. And the scarf is so warm— so is his face. A beautiful tomato red all over his cheeks and ears as he looks at you, genuinely feeling better just by borrowing his scarf.

Or maybe you borrow his gloves (if they fit) and put them on.— Okay... but why my gloves?— he asks curiously, waiting an eyebrow as he looks up at you.

You smile, wiggling your fingers after putting the gloves on— Makes me feel like I'm holding your hand— he falls silent, and he opens his mouth to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a flustered exhale as he turns around and walks away from you as he mumbles a "you're unbelievably.... cute" that you're sure he didn't mean for you to hear.

A few minutes later he'll return by your side as you're walking and extend his hand up, looking ahead— You can just hold my damn hand, you know?— he mumbles, and you notice how his cheeks tint with red once again.

[ellievickstar]

Undeserving

A/N: This took me way too long to write- I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is Part 2 of Deserving, but it can be read as a standalone. This was written as a more self-indulgent fic and I might write an alternative part 2 that is sadder if you guys really want. Love you all <3

Summary: After years, you are happy, you have moved on. But what about the other half that you have abandoned? What about tthe one who hurt you most when all you needed was his help?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Past), Eris Vanserra x Reader (Current)

Warnings: Angst (as usual), being married to Eris (ig for some of y'all that's an ick), mentions of Beron (bleh), really nothing else tbh please tell me if there is anything i should add.

~*~*~*~*~

"How have you been?" The High Lady of the Night Court sat opposite to you as you sipped at the tea that your dearest husband had provided. It had been over five years since you had left the Nigh Court, over ten years that you decided to find new purpose here. In Autumn Court. After Beron had died and Eris Vanserra had been announced as the new High Lord, you had originally gone over as an ambassador with Lucien, but after a few interactions with the now Autumn High Lord you had decided to stay. And now you were married.

"I’ve been well Feyre. Eris still treats me like a queen and I am always taken care of, he insists I always rest even though I do want to contribute and work, though he does relent on letting me participate in political meetings and interacting with the larger part of the court. He thinks they like me more than they like him," You smiled warmly as you thought of your relationship with the High Lord of the Night Court. Although it hadn’t been officially announced yet, due to the fact that Eris had to get rid of a few corrupt lords in who had been loyal to only Beron, you had overheard Eris discussing something with Lucien that you had not meant to find out.

~*~*~*~*~

It was midnight and you had awoken to an empty bed, still warm, meaning that Eris had not left too long ago, but not warm enough without his presence next to you. You stumbled down the great halls of the Forest House, finally coming across a room where a dim light shined through a slightly opened door, but as you were about to enter, you stopped and strained your ears to listen to the conversation that was happening inside.

You picked up on Lucien’s voice first, ensuring that you remained perfectly still and held your breathe. "You are being ridiculous of course she would say yes. You’ve planned all this so that you can make this day special for her, why are you still fretting?" Your lovers panic was palpable in his tone, "What if she hates it? What if she hates everything and decides to leave me? Oh gosh what if she leaves me?"

A chuckle escaped from Lucien and you felt movement and what seemed like pacing footsteps.

"I really love her, brother. She is the love of my life and I feel like I’ve waited for her since the beginning of my existence, but what if she hates what I am planning to do? Or what if I end up overwhelming her and she decides to reject me?" Panic. Eris was in a complete state of panic. The usually calm, indifferent and cold heir was panicking. Curiosity piqued in you as you remained outside the door of the study. "I’m sure she will agree, in the years you have been together all she’s yearned for is a life with you. She will be more than happy to agree for you to make her High Lady."

~*~*~*~*~

And so you were giddily awaiting the day that Eris had planned. You were careful in hiding that you knew, ensuring that he would not suspect anything. Smiling as you recalled the memory fondly, your attention was stolen by the doors off the sitting room opened, flaming red hair peaking through the doorway as it revealed your grinning husband.

"Eris!" You greeted as you saw Feyre’s lips curve into a slight smile, one she hid behind her teacup as your lover approached you, lips brushing against your forehead as he nodded Feyre’s way, a polite acknowledgment of her presence. "Am I interrupting, Little Fox?" He murmured and as you shook your head he slipped you a small piece of paper before bidding his farewell. Strange, but perhaps he didn���t wish to share whatever information was on the paper to Feyre. Understandable, seeing as the night court still didn’t entirely trust Eris.

Peering at the paper, you smiled at the words.

Nothing important, Little Fox. Was just missing you. See you later at dinner with the rest of the Night Court and Lucian.

Though Eris would never admit it he was clingy at heart, and you found it ever so endearing. Truly, it was adorable seeing the High Lord of Autumn, someone who had been deemed cold and cruel by the entirety of Prythian, decide to sulk at the absence of his one and only lover.

Sighing, you folded the paper and used your magic to winnow it to your room, continuing your conversation with your best friend without a hitch, gossiping about court relations and other subjects that came to mind.

~*~*~*~*~

Laughter roared through the dining room as Cassian pounded his fist against the table. Among everyone in the inner circle, Cassian had been the quickest to get used to Eris, but that was not before Mor and Eris made up and Eris provided a real explanation of why he had left her in the woods all those years ago, even offering to provide his own memories and thoughts to Rhys to prove himself. It was all so you did not have to separate yourself from your family, and he had done it only for you. Not that you had asked him to. You would have never asked him to be so vulnerable with people he might be uncomfortable with.

A part of you couldn’t help but notice Azriel staring at you, but you chose to ignore him. He had made his choice about you a long time ago, it did not matter if he regretted it now.

But the ruckus died in the dining table as Eris cleared his throat.

Looking around, you saw Rhys’s eyes seemed to be alight in anticipation and Lucian seemed to sit straighter in his chair as Eris stood, addressing your family.

"I’m sure you understand why I’ve chosen our monthly gathering to finally announce this. But it’s not really an announcement, yet." His eyes travelled across the room before finally landing on you. "Throughout the past few months I’m sure some of you know that I have been agonising how to do this properly, and some of you have even personally had a hand in helping me to try and plan something that would fit the best into Y/N’s lovely taste, and that’s when i realised that I didn’t need anything big or extravagant, she would have just wanted you all here, to share this." He paused as he knelt before you, holding your hands to his.

"I know this is a big thing to ask, and I understand if you need time, heck some of your family members may even discourage you from saying yes." He grinned nervously. "But I wanted to ask you now. Y/N will you do me the honor of becoming my high lady and binding my life to yours for the rest of my life? Because if one day you decide to leave this land, I don’t want to be far behind."

Inhaling deeply, he continued, "I love you, I know for a fact I love you and that I have loved you since you decided to show up to my court with my brother, grinning and laughing like fools. I have loved you ever since you had the defiance to stand up to my cold mask and tell me I could "shove that fake cold demeanor up my ass or screw off". I have loved you shamelessly and endlessly ever since you first decided to call me your own. Please, be my High Lady, let me dedicate my life to yours, to whatever end."

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded repeatedly, blubbering out a soft ‘of course’ as you flung yourself into Eris’s arms. Your family members all burst into cheers, Cassian taking you from your husband to swing you around and Feyre, Nesta and Elain crowding around you in excitement to gush over the news. This was exactly what you would have wanted. Nothing big or fancy, just a moment to share together, as a family.

That’s when you felt a tendril sneak up your arm, causing you to look back into where the shadow singer was now tucked away into a corner, he beckoned you to follow him and as you cast a look to Eris, he smiled softly and mouthed ���i trust you’ before winking and returning to his conversation with Lucian.

You followed Azriel to a balcony just outside the dining hall, and he paused for a few seconds facing away from you, before his low, raspy voice rang out.

"Why him?"

You were taken aback. But you rolled your eyes, Azriel had pulled this same shit at your wedding.

"Don’t do this Azriel," You warned.

The shadow singer turned to you and under his gaze you froze at his rage.

"He doesn’t deserve you."

"And you think you do!" You scoffed, "I needed you, all those years ago I needed you. Not just your pathetic words that you would be there for me no matter what when it came to a time I needed you to choose me you did the exact opposite. For months I was broken. I believed that I didn’t deserve love if my own mate couldn’t bring himself to love me. You have no idea what it was like watching you love someone else. You have no right to tell me who deserves me and who doesn’t. You gave that up a long time ago so don’t even try."

Silence was all that followed and as you were about to return to the male who actually loved you, Azriel spoke. 

"I’m sorry," And now with your back away from him you were reminded of all those years ago when you walked away from a situation that made you feel undeserving of love. 

"I know," You said softly, your words almost unable to reach his ears, "But that’s not enough, Azriel. Being sorry has never been enough for me to stay with you. Let me go, please. You deserve love to. Please stop chasing after people you can’t have because that will be your undoing." 

But as you left and Azriel was alone on the balcony, he tipped his head and whispered to the stars. 

"It already is."

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Sorry if the story isn't flowing that well haha. I am working on other stuff (planning and procrastinating is more accurate) but rn I am on school holidays so I will be writing a little more. Love you all see you next time <3

taglist for azriel: @positivewitch

[angeart]

I only recently found ur tumblr account but i’ve been reading ur fics (I enjoy them a lot!) and honestly it’s making me itch to write. Which i’ve done before but i’ve never committed to a proper fic, so like, any tips maybe? I’ve got Ideas but hell if I know how to execute them

hi hello! happy to hear you're enjoying the fics and aww!! oh gosh. that's so sweet that my writing is making u want to write 🥺

when i started writing hmtb, i had zero expectations, wasn't sure where the story was going to go, had just a vague simple concept i thought would be fun to play with... i haven't written anything in years. i also just got the Itch™️ after reading a good fanfic.

...and then suddely i just found myself writing. (and here we are)

it's a great feeling, and i think you should follow it if u can!! :3

i'm not quite sure what advice you're seeking out here exactly. is there something specific you're struggling with? i'm going to try to list and address some things under the cut, but if whatever you were looking for is missing, feel free to ask about it!

if it's commitment you struggle with, you can always start smaller. you can try to dabble in drabbles, see how the characters and the story setting feel like and get more comfortable with them (and in a way, more curious and inspired about them!).

you can do shorter bits or oneshots—like how i have an au around sleep demon grian, but only have one oneshot fic set in it. it gets you test things out without getting overwhelmed about having to have a Big Story, and then if you decide you want to do more, you can arrange them into a series and link them thematically that way into one cohesive story anyway! (the way i do with boatem circus.)

or you can use prompts to center your works around. which, speaking of, the boatem circus' oneshot was all spawned from a thought "what if panic attacks". bayum.

honestly, i'm not best at organisation and just wing things a lot. but i do recommend you to note down ideas at each opportunity. whether it's just a concept, a dialogue, a snippet, an atmosphere, a scene you might like to play around with at some point, or a whole ass Big Rambly Thought. save it somewhere! save it all!

you can even write down what you need to figure out next. what are the points of the story you need to Think About Some More so that you can move forward? jot down the questions, too, so that you know what to focus on next time you want to brainstorm stuff.

if you're writing a longer thing, i also recommend to note down details you need to keep track of that might otherwise get swallowed up and forgotten as the focus moves elsewhere. (for example, i have a note saying scar was given a feather, and the clothes they're wearing as they're swapped/unusual. i have a note that says that hmtb scar still has flowers from grian's collapse in the field in his inventory—)

but. that all being said. the most important thing is to have fun with what you're doing and to be interested in your own story and the characters in it. i think that's really the key to it. you need to tell the story you want to see. it's gonna be for you, first and foremost, and that's important to be aware of.

which means... be self indulgent!! it's your story! go wild! do what you want!! <333

as for motivation, staying on track, and staying engaged with your story... if you can get someone to ramble at and bounce ideas off of and show writing progress to, that can be a great help! it's even great for fleshing out stories/developing things further/getting new ideas. (a lot of hmtb plotpoints were born in private DMs just because we were throwing "what if" and "imagine this" around!)

at the end of it all... it really just boils down to: start writing.

don't overthink it. open a page, and set the characters free on it.

here's a great thing: it doesn't have to be perfect.

write it anyway.

you can consider it a draft, and then you can read over it and see if you want to edit it in any way. you can have wips around. that's fine! the important part is to start <3

-----------

as a bonus here's some example chaos of my various notes. i have all kinds of things saved, this is kind of just an example of how it can look:

[chromotps]

Do you have any favorite acelu headcanons/tropes/dynamics?? All your works of them are so gorgeous and amazing and wonderful that it’s got me curious on what other thoughts you might have for them. （●´∀｀）ノ♡

AHHH thank you!! From you, it means a lot--I love so many of the details and backstories woven into your works for them!! TwT

I barely know where to begin with this bc like. Everything about acelu is my favorite. But I've also sort of been in a brainrot for them for so long now that my brain is entirely mush when I even think of them. Where do I start???

I guess, I love all the Ace-Lives-related headcanons. Anything about him finding more of a sense of self after Marineford, now that he's reckoned with the fact that he really is unconditionally loved... I personally adore any storyline where Ace kind of mellows out, like, his life isn't about proving he deserves to exist anymore, so he isn't as unforgiving with himself. I actually wanna link this comment thread between me & @to-a-merrier-world bc the headcanon of Ace getting a Stawhat tattoo makes me go wild. It just makes so much sense—his Whitebeard tattoo was on his back as a sign of worth and labor and duty, but the Stawhat tattoo over his heart would place more emphasis on his joys and dreams and jusT gosh. I need to lie down. This idea also ties into your to be deserving fic and Ace allowing himself more like, purely whimsical adornment?? Especially if it's gifts from Luffy??? I can't quite word it now, but the way it could symbolize him just loving the parts of himself that aren't just for fighting makes me. weak. I think it's why I like drawing post-timeskip Ace ideas so much (I already have another sketch I'm planning to post 😂)

hhhh okay that was a lot of Ace Talk. On Luffy's side... tbh Luffy is always harder for me to pin down. But I always love the idea that he needed Ace as a kid just as much as Ace needed him. Like this hc (from another comment 😂)—"Ace needs someone to prove unconditionally that he's lovable, and Luffy needs someone to prove that his love is important, and not easy to abandon." tbh acelu reminds me of my old D&D character, where basically, she was always pretty cheerful and resilient, but felt isolated—like she was always too alien to really relate to others. But then, this other character loved her as she is, and I think Ace did something similar for Luffy in the end? Like, in a world where Luffy never got Ace, I wonder if he'd still be as emotionally secure and kind. Probably! But... ahhh. This hc is more indulgent, but I really love the idea that Ace helps Luffy remember who he is beneath all the power and bravery. Where most of the One Piece world loves Luffy for being a liberator and a fearless captain, Ace loved him before all that—when he was just a kid who loved to laugh and share a meal and marvel at the world.

Oh my goddd I'm rambling. uuuuhhhh there's so much more, I love both when people write Ace as cool and suave, but also when he's a giant lovesick dork... The enemies/annoyance-to childhood friends-to lovers trope works in every world, I'd love to see it in AUs as like a bodyguard + celebrity/royalty plot, or arranged marriage—or pretty much, any story where Luffy wins Ace over with his terrifyingly stubborn love. I also love the fact that their dynamic is so playful!!! If an acelu fic/art doesn't imply that they can—and love—laughing together, then it's out of character to me. 😂

I don't know... they just have it all.... the depth and "I would die for you" level of devotion. But also the ridiculous "we're two feral gremlins who dare each other to eat doritos soaked in mountain dew" shenanigans. It's that mix of both.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

I See You : Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Warnings and Information: Going with a 13+ rating just on account of language in the form of Star Wars and real-world swearing, just to be cautious. Self-indulgent modern AU fic, but you can read it too. This is practice for Crosshair's character as well as something mildly therapeutic. I'm… fine, but not fabulous, y'know? Job hunting is not exactly fun, so I'm just writing out my frustrations. How many Clone cameos can I fit in here? We'll find out together. They're not dead, what are you talking about? Empire gets compared to any one of those multimillion-dollar companies that treat you like shit no matter how good of a worker you are with Palp as the soul-sucking CEO in modernized terms. Rare fic without minor instances of Mando'a, but plenty of my stylistic and narrative use of italics. Minor proofreading. 

Word-count: 4,237

The phone rings. You put it up to your ear so fast you nearly drop your cell in your haste to answer, not even looking at the screen. You should've. It would have saved you time, the realization that these people were not reaching out to get back to you about your job application. You hang up halfway into the pitch about repairing damaged products you don't even own. 

The lid slams to the washing machine."Oh, fuck me!" you yell, groaning loudly.

You're of two minds; be consumed with your frustrations and take it out on the washing machine, or just clean the paint stains out with your tears. You're sure that'll work just as well as the detergent in order to get out that large smear of phthalo blue. Except, it won't, and the sooner you get this load started, the less time the paint has to set and stain. The lid is lifted.

Footfall softer than falling snow, Crosshair makes his way in from some other part of the shared house, his expression passive as he observes you dunking fistfuls of dirty clothing into the wash-drum. "Is that an invitation or a request?" He at least waited to make his remark until he was certain you noticed him and gave him a trademark "what the kriff do you want?" sort of look. 

Knuckles pale as you grip the lip of the machine with one hand. "I'm not in the mood for your-" 

"No; I know you're not." Crosshair interrupts you. "But I came to see if you hurt yourself, mostly." 

"I'm fine." you snarl, slam-dunking the last of the clothing from the hamper anchored against your hip. "I slammed the lid." A neat brow buckles just a fraction, all the response you get as you push your way past him, returning to the small office that served as your art studio in this house. You're really not in the mood. You were a whirlwind of emotion, most of it negative. 

You can feel his eyes from the doorway, trained on the back of your neck as you work. Gosh you made such a mess, you shouldn't have used so much paint thinner. "Go away, Cross. I need to clean up my easel and see if I can't salvage this portrait of…" You stop, breath hitching when you hear Crosshair clear his throat softly. He's directly behind you now, his voice taking on a slightly serpentine quality in its softness.

"Your clean shirt's on backwards, doll." 

You shake your head, stubbornly refusing to believe him. "Nice try. Not while my hands are dirty. Tell me again once I get this mess cleaned up." 

Wordlessly, Crosshair plucks the runny canvas from its easel and makes sure not to take it beyond the edge of the tarp. Hunter would be disappointed to find a mess on the beautiful hardwood floors so soon after he's treated them. And you'd be disappointed with yourself to give a portrait to an important friend in its current state. What should have been beautiful, angular and geometric lines are little more than a royal mess.

"Just go ahead and trash it for me…" 

The same brow arches. "Why?" 

"Because I don't want to give Hardcase a painting that looks like that..." you reply, huffing in your disappointment and frustration that you'd gotten so sloppy with your oils. "I said his portrait would be perfect practice for crisp, angular forms with that beautiful pop of blue from his tattoo and this is… far from it." 

Your housemate looks at you with mild surprise. As far as mild surprise goes for Crosshair, anyhow. He wouldn't look quite so aghast like Wrecker, or frown quite so deeply as Echo. 

"Who are you and what have you done to the Bob Rossified [____] we know and admire? What happened to the happy accidents?" Ordinarily, the comparison to the famous art instructor and television host would have made your face burn brighter than your favorite brand of alizarin crimson paint. 

Instead, you scoff at him. "Very funny..." 

"I'm serious." Crosshair insists, setting the portrait back on the easel once you've wiped it down, "What's the matter?" 

You shouldn't snap at him, but your mouth just runs away from you. "I thought I got a call back from the place I applied to. I was wrong! It was some damn spam call, and I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed. Okay? Happy now?" 

The palms of his hands flash in a surrendering fashion to you before he speaks. "I'd say you're more angry than disappointed." Sighing, you take your cleaning rag and do Crosshair a favor by removing the thinned, blue oil paint from his hands after he notices it himself. "Kriff. Sorry." 

Gently, you assure him you'll take care of it. That it's no trouble. That he's right, after some thought, "I guess… I am angry. All these places that are supposedly so kriffing desperate for employees sure take their damn sweet time. Or they seem to be hiring everyone but you. It makes me feel… invisible. They should have called me by now! Right…?" Crosshair looks at the calendar tacked to the wall of your little studio, where it's written in your favorite color the day you applied to the art supply store. They definitely should have by this point, he agrees. 

"Have they reached out by email?" he asks gently, watching as you take that same cleaning cloth and gingerly wipe down the bottom edge of the canvas. He's convinced you for the time being not to break it over your knee and pitch it into the curbside bin until you at least give yourself an hour away from your brushes to think it over. 

You shake your head, "I've been checking every day. Nothing." You now wash your brushes before the paint gums up the bristles, at least. And then you promise you'll lay aside your brushes and go grab a bite to eat with him. "And most places these days, they're likely to actually trash your résumé if you call them to 'follow up' on your application process. That old piece of unsolicited advice needs to die out, pronto. Just because it worked for- for- Agatha and her generation, doesn't mean it works for mine!" 

Crosshair snorts. 

"What?" 

"Agatha?"

"Shut up… I could have gone with Karen and been unoriginal." you grumble, gingerly fixing the arrangement of your fan brush. 

Crosshair retorts sarcastically, giving you a playful smirk. "The 1930s called, they'd like to know why you're using such a dated name." Ordinarily, Crosshair stays out of your hair (and your studio) by never bothering you as you work, but it's clear that he's trying to cheer you up, even a little. 

"Unless the 1930s is offering me a job," you start, plucking the thin script brush from his dexterous fingers just as he begins to twirl it, "it better not bother me by calling…" 

"The art store will call you eventually, I'm sure…" he tells you, the grim frown matching your souring expression. "You love art. You're a creative person. What better person to work at a place like that than someone who could practically recite an episode of The Joy of Painting in her sleep?" You point out, playfully, that Tech could recite an episode of Painting in his sleep just as easily as you. But at least you crack a smile as you do so, so he lets it slide. "Okay, you and my brother." Cross concedes, thinking back to the time the household decided to try a "painting party" to break up the seasonal gloom last December. "Maybe Hardcase and Wrecker too, if the pocket squirrels make an appearance." 

Here, you finally chuckle. "Forgetting Fives would be criminal. Or how concentrated Dogma gets." 

Cross just nods agreeably, hoping to keep a good thing going. "I wouldn't dare. My point is, you'd be amazing at an art store. They'd be lucky to have a gal like you who gives a kriff about art working for them." 

You flash Crosshair a confused and crooked smile as you set down the last of your brushes and tighten the last twist-cap on your tube of oil-based paints. "You think so?" You're surprised how… sincere Crosshair sounds. You had to do a little metaphorical arm twisting just to get him to join you when the only spot left in the living room was a seat on the couch next to Rex. 

Cross just nods decidedly. "C'mon. Let's grab a burger or something. My treat." A burger sounds great, you tell him, fixing your shirt so it's not on backwards before you stroll out the door.

Maker above, did he really mean his treat. Crosshair took you both down to the best burger joint in the city, where the two of you ate your respective orders and split a carton of fries with the house seasoning and plenty of salt. 

"Oooh, kriff me…" you moaned blissfully, sucking your fingers clean of the granules of salt and seasoning, "these fries hit the spot every time." They're probably your favorite thing here, honestly. Perfect amount of crispness, balanced flavor, and hot; never ever tepid or cold. Cross snags a few more fries from the carton before nudging it your way, inviting you to polish off the rest. "You don't want any more?" you ask, curious. "There's still plenty in there to share." 

He offers a lazy shrug, "I'll think about it." He slips his phone from his pocket when he hears a ping, and he hums thoughtfully after reading the message. "... Think I should let Wrecker find out on his own that he's home alone?" You can only shake your head disapprovingly of the wry smile, mouth too full of food to chastise him. While Wrecker and Crosshair weren't afraid of messing around with one another, you worried about it getting out of hand on occasion. "Fine. I'll let him know we're not home so the big guy doesn't worry, doll. In fact…" 

Cross types down a message much longer than a simple courtesy "we're not home" text, and then cleans up the discarded burger wrappers and straw sleeves, snagging a few more fries once you say you can't possibly eat another bite. "Good. Not a lot of fun when you go shopping hungry." 

"Didn't we just make a grocery run two days ago?" Crosshair shakes his head, then pitches everything into the large garbage receptacle as you grab your things. "Not that kind of shopping then." you determine. There were a lot of possible options, but you didn't have to slog through another massive grocery list, at least. "Where are we going?" 

"You'll see." Crosshair replies simply, holding the door for you to follow after as he steps into the parking lot. "I had an idea." Now you really wonder where you're going, or what he has planned. Crosshair and spontaneity get along about as well as a Tooka and bathwater, sometimes. 

You have to remind yourself that Crosshair wasn't a complete stick in the mud all the time, and when you first met him, he was still working for the same company that his other brothers had quit once they found out what kind of person the man who ran this multimillion company turned out to be. 

First found himself working under some bloke named Edmon down the managerial line, before he was arrested for embezzlement. Then a real asswipe of a superior named Nolan took over, and after someone got hurt really badly on a "company retreat" and Nolan refused to call for an ambulance, Crosshair finally came to his senses about the place. 

They don't give a shit about how loyal of a worker you are, just like Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Echo warned him. They were right all along. 

You thought you mattered to us? Please… Someone younger and desperate enough will come in and take your place if we feed them enough honeyed lies!

So Cross stole Nolan's car and drove himself and the injured coworker down to a hospital two hours away from the company retreat. Crosshair had known the guy for less than 24 hours (or something like that), but Mayday's injury helped Cross come to realize that the company was a sinking ship. So he got them both out. Now, Mayday and Cross spend every Sunday night checking in on each other. Cross works odd jobs from home, mostly, and Mayday… Well he was content with not being employed for a while. 

The longer Crosshair has been living at home with his brothers again, the more he's starting to get (some of) his old sense of self back. He's no longer couch surfing because he didn't want to deal with his brothers fussing over his choice to remain with the company. 

He was never, ever kicked out. 

Cross had always been welcome to come back home, with a spare key tucked under the welcome mat if he ever needed it. 

You'd been the one to find him letting himself into the house at three in the morning after Mayday talked Cross into going and seeing his brothers. You were "leasing" a room from the brothers at the time, and they had let you know the deal about Crosshair. "Please don't call the police if you ever find someone who's just… let himself into the house. That's our brother. We've been worried about him. He's made choices we don't agree with, but he's still our brother. We care about him." 

Of course, Cross had no warning about you, but he eventually warmed up to you in time after you had practically broken Hunter's door off its hinges to let him know that Cross was here and he was tackled into the coffee table by the biggest of his brothers in Wrecker's excitement.

That spare key under the welcome mat now sits on your ring of keys, which you fiddle with in your hands the longer you and Crosshair drive through the city. 

"Isn't this the way downtown?" 

"Mhm." 

"Still won't give me a hint, Cross?" 

"No." he chuckles, pulling the steering wheel into a smooth left turn. "You'll see soon enough, doll."

He's taken you to the art store, to your surprise. The one you applied to. Not that specific location you applied to in town, thank the Maker, but the chain, rather. "I haven't been to one of these places in years…" Cross admits softly as he pulls himself out of the car. "Figured while we were out of the house, we'd stop by." 

"How come?" you ask. You'd recently just bought a bunch of paint, so it's not like you needed anything in particular, really, maybe just wanted… There was one particularly pricey art supply you've had your eye on and lusting after for a while now, but given your current unemployment status, you're really trying to control your spending. "You got a project in mind, or somethin', Cross?" 

Shoulders bounce. "Not really." 

"So… what are we doing here?" 

"Looking." he declares, steering you into the store by your shoulder. "Lookings always free. So is anything you can apply the five-finger disco-"

"Cross!" 

"I'm kidding." he declares semi-defensively, laughing at the expression on your face. "C'mon, doll, you know I'm kidding. Hard to smuggle out a whole canvas or large pack of… whaddya call those markers? Cop-picks?" 

Mild mortification turns into bubbly giggles over his decent effort to pronounce the brand name. "Copics. They're called Copic markers. And, they're kind of a scam." He just looks at you with an expression of confusion, so you figure you better explain. "Here, lemme show you." Taking his hand, you lead Cross down to the aisle dedicated to sketch pads, pencils and markers. On the shelves, there's dozens of specialty packs and bundles with quirky names. 

Oceanic, "Beach Blast!", and skin tones are all prominently stocked for the summer. Singleton markers are what you're looking for though. You pluck a Copic Classic from one of the slots, and point to the price sticker. 

A whopping 9.65 credits for a single kriffing marker. "Keep that in mind," you say, as you scoot down the aisle and show him the stock of Ohuhu brand markers, "and compare it to this." You select a similar color to the Classic in the Ohuhu brand, and tap the price sticker. A far more reasonable 2.49 credits.

He scratches the back of his head and neck. "What the kriff…? Is there a significant difference in the brand or something?" He's not exactly all that artistically inclined like you are, so to him, he's not sure if there's anything he's seeing that warrants such sticker-shock for a damn marker. 

"Just the name, really. Copic markers aren't really the end-all-be-all of alcohol-based art markers anymore. Ohuhu branded markers are just as good as Copics, and you get more markers for say… fifty credits in Ohuhus than Copics." you explain, putting the markers back in their respective slots. "I won't bore you with more details that go into it, but that's the bare bones of it." 

Cross nods politely to indicate he's listening to you, lifting a pack of art markers off the display to give it a closer look. Once he has satisfied his curiosity, he puts it back and glances at the different sketch pads. "And these probably tell you what they're best suited for, somewhere." You confirm his thought with a simple nod, tapping one of the sketchbooks. Drawing pad, 64 pages best suited for graphite, marker and colored pencils. 

"They'll often tell you either on the cover, or on an inside page, sometimes. Depends on the brand."

You're getting the feeling that maybe Cross is looking for something after all, but he won't admit it to you. He keeps asking you question after question as you go down each aisle of the store. If there's a section dedicated to a particular craft you're not very familiar with, the two of you just look at the items in silence for the most part. You're (pun not entirely intended) pouring over all the different resin supplies together when Crosshair asks you another question to break the silence. 

"Do you ever show your art online? Some kind of… creative forum, or something? Or is it all just personal projects, like the portraits you've done for Rex and the one you're trying to do for Hardcase?" 

You chew your bottom lip for a moment as you mull over what you'll say. "I… stopped. For a long time." 

"Why?" 

You huff softly, returning one of the unusual resin molds back to the shelf. Little space shuttles and UFOs and such. (Space travel… wouldn't that be something?) "I couldn't get out of the trap of comparing myself to others. I don't know if you could call it imposter syndrome, or anxiety, or what. But I just felt… small. Unnoticed. Invisible." Crosshair frowns, stepping closer to you to allow someone with a large cartful of yarn and children's paint sets squeeze past. She looked like a teacher, gentle and kind and so, so tired. But she gave the pair of you a kind smile as she moved down the aisle and pondered over the different bags of beads one could buy in bulk for crafts. 

"That's the second time you've used that word, [____]." 

You give him an inquisitive look, surprised by his statement. The rare use of your name. "Wh-what word?" 

"Invisible." Crosshair answers, closing that gap between you further when his hand reaches out to cup your face for a moment to scrutinize you, study you. "Is that how you feel?" 

"I guess?" you start, but you think a little more, and you find that, yes, sometimes you do feel invisible. "I feel like… people don't… notice me. Like I'm trying to do it all damn wrong. It's been fucking weeks and places won't call me back! Or I'll post things and it gets a handful of interactions when I put the effort into it, but the shit I don't, that's what fucking blows up and goes viral. I don't fucking get it and I… sometimes I just don't know why I bother trying to apply myself when I'm just… invisible and unseen. This shit sucks, Cross." you admit a little bitterly. You take a deep breath and apologize for swearing in the store, in case the other customers can hear you. You apologize again when the tears begin to prickle and well in the corners of your eyes for getting so worked up, but you're just kind of at a loss for what to do next. You've tried so many things… you just feel like you're talking to yourself because no one will answer your applications. 

Crosshair doesn't say anything for a while, and you don't take it to heart. He's not the chattiest of your housemates, as you learned a long time ago. Sometimes, he did have things to say, but he wanted to take some care with his words if Cross sensed he needed to be a little more delicate. 

And he could be surprisingly good at being delicate when the need arises.

Assuringly, tenderly, Crosshair brushes the tears from your eyes and motions for you to follow him. "I see how much this stuff matters to you. If a stuffy old art store can't see it, just know that I see it. You're not invisible to me, kid. I see you." He's brought you to the paint section, coming to a stop in front of the selection of oil paints in particular. 

"I may not understand all of… this," he gestures broadly at the display of thick, silver-foil tubes of paint, and selects a beautiful cerulean blue off the rack, "but I see how much this means to you. You know your shit. You're getting better all the time. I see that. One day, I think people will see that you know your shit too, and you won't have to feel so invisible anymore. But I see you. Hunter, and Wrecker and Tech, and- your friends see you, doll. You've got such a passion for these things… but you're…" 

You wait for him to continue for a moment, wondering what he wants to say. You decide to hazard a guess when all he can offer is a soft shrug when he finds himself at a loss for words. "Beating myself up, too much…?" You eye the tube of paint in his hands, and wonder for a moment why he's been taking so many things off the shelves only to look at them before putting them back in their proper place. Tech's told you Cross has sharp eyesight, perhaps more on the farsighted side if anything. (Was he more farsighted than you initially assumed?)

"Perhaps." Cross admits, softly juggling the tube in the palm of his hand. "If nothing else I said sticks with you… I just hope that the fact that I see and recognize your efforts does, doll. I know I'm only one person, but sometimes, just hearing it from one person is all we need." 

You feel your cheeks pinch with a little smile hearing him say that. One of those things, one of those times where someone says exactly what you needed to hear when you didn't know you needed to hear it most. "That's… awfully nice of you to say, Crosshair. Thank you…" 

"I should give some credit to Mayday," Crosshair admits with a soft laugh, now pulling a tube of cobalt and ultramarine blue off the shelves, "he's the one who's been encouraging me to… do what feels right, if he thinks I'm feeling a little lost between the odd job. And doing what feels right includes helping you restart that portrait of Hardcase if you really think you need to trash the first one." 

"Is that why you keep grabbing all those different blues?" you giggle, watching him now idly shuffle three different tubes of blue oil paint in his hands. 

Crosshair nodded, making you laugh as he grabbed a fourth tube with a wink. "Yeah. I noticed that you didn't have these blues back at home. And that you use phthalo blue a lot like a certain painter." 

"Are you comparing me to Bob Ross again?" you tease, stifling a laugh as you make your way to the checkout together. You've been away from your brushes for more than an hour at this point, and you're itching to get back to the process of creating while you still have the time to do as much as you want; before you're hopefully contracted with a job offer and have less time to dedicate to such things. 

"Maybe." he purrs mischievously, ringing up each of the paints before carefully wrapping them up in their own separate plastic bags for the trip home. "If I am, do I get to see you paint?" 

You can only shake your head with a gentle laugh. "We'll see, Cross." 

That's good enough for him, he says as you collect the receipt from the self checkout machine, just so long as you promised you'd give yourself a little more grace and faith that soon enough, you'd get the job offer you wanted. 

Some days will be easier than others… but you'll do your best, you promise. You're pretty sure you can manage that.

[Masterlist] [TBB Masterlist][Requests: OPEN]

Tagging: @the-hexfiles who wanted to see some soft!Crosshair <3

Note from Frost: Apparently Mayday got assigned some kind of "Work Dad who takes care of and looks out for the younger employees" vibes while I was writing this self-indulgent (and mildly therapeutic) quick-fic, lmao. And hopefully, this ends up being good practice for soft!Crosshair down the line, as it comes into play in the next long-form series I'm working on. Yeah maybe it's perhaps a tad too out-of-character, but kriff it. 

[bellysoupset]

Oh my gosh that story with Jonah and Leo was SO GOOD - would you ever consider a part 2 with Leo and Jonah talking about what he was saying???

- 💋

You guys really should stop indulging my angsty self. We'll end up killing this boy.

This is a continuation of this fic: Feverish Leo has a nightmare and overshares his past with Jonah. - Which happened before Sicily!

Warning for the f- slur and mentions of past child abuse, thread carefully.

---------

JD let out a pitiful meow as Leo stopped her from escaping and squeezed her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. Jon snorted, noticing the cat staring at him, as if begging him to help her run away.

"Sorry, little miss, I guess you're stuck," he whispered darkly, crawling back in the bed with a bottle of Gatorade, "bottom's up, Leo."

The blonde coughed weakly against his fist and took the bottle from him, taking a small sip and grimacing when it hit his irritated throat. He gulped down a couple more sips then handed Jonah the bottle back, slumping against the pillows and letting out a soft burp.

JD burrowed against his stomach, starting to make biscuits and Leo opened a smile, running a shaky hand over her fur, "her belly rubs are better than yours."

"Yeah but hers don't come with a get-well-soon blowjob," Jonah deadpanned, rolling his eyes and moving closer so he could push a strand of hair out of Leo's eyes. His hair was much longer than usual and Jon loved it, he knew Leo wasn't cutting it entirely for his benefit too.

"What exactly did I tell you last night?" Leo sighed, turning slightly so he could meet Jon's worried eyes, "you have that freaked out look on your face."

Jonah cringed. He thought he had his usual bitch face on, but clearly Leo was getting better at reading him.

"Not too much," he reassured him, fiddling with a strand of golden hair, "don't worry-"

"I'm not worried," Leo shrugged, sounding exhausted. His voice was basically gone, he had spent the better part of the night coughing, once the fever broke, "I don't mind you knowing, Jon."

Jonah sighed, pulling his hand back, "you thought you were back home... And I think you thought I was your dad? You kept saying you'd stay out of my way and behave, so if you could stay home instead of going to school..."

"Sounds very on brand with dad," Leo snorted, without any humor, "he hated when I stayed home instead of going to school."

"Even sick?"

"Especially sick," Leo scoffed, "and give him my germs? Please."

Jonah bit on his lip, angrily munching over the words he wanted to call the man, "your father was a piece of work."

Leo let out a chuckle and slid down the bed just a little bit, continuing to pet JD, "he was complicated."

Jon didn't think there was anything complicated about the man being a cunt. He trailed a hand over Leo's arm, up and down, "did he... Did he abuse you?" the words were whispered, he couldn't bring himself to say them out loud, "I- I asked you to remove your shirt and you freaked out..."

Leo flinched, then opened and closed his mouth twice before saying, "no, he didn't," he wasn't lying, but it wasn't all of it. Still, he shut his mouth and avoided Jonah's gaze, focusing on their kitten who was playfully rolling onto her back on his stomach, little spotted belly open for him to rub.

"Leo?"

"He was just..." he shrugged, "he was weird and he scared me. He fucking terrified me," Leo looked up, "I don't know if it was some form of homophobia, because he always knew I was gay, he made it very fucking clear he knew it with the name calling, but he just... I didn't like undressing around him. Or being near him, to be quite honest. But he didn't abuse me like that."

"Like that?" Jonah repeated, voice a whip. He had never felt so heartbroken or murderous.

Leo shrugged again, "well, there was the name calling. You'd the surprised how many slurs there are other than faggot," he smiled without any happiness, tickling JD's belly, "then there was the beatings. It didn't happen often, only when he was really wasted, but towards the end..." he shuddered and Jonah moved away from the bed, getting up.

He couldn't sit still, too angry, and Leo looked up, concerned.

"Jon?"

"I'm fine," he waved him off, pacing the room, "...Was he like that before your mom left?"

Leo frowned, confused "I don't know, baby, I don't really remember anything from back then. I was too young and trauma..." he touched his temple lightly, "kinda fucks with your memory. My whole childhood is a little bit of a blur."

Jonah ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the tight curls' roots, "when- When did she leave again?"

"I was ten," Leo answered and then the next question Jon was going to ask, "and seventeen when he passed away."

"Suicide, right?" Jon sat back down, near his knee and JD meowed, jumping to his lap. Leo nodded, quietly seeming to be thinking over everything.

"Hung himself in the living room," he said in a hesitant voice, clearly scared he was freaking Jonah even more.

Jon squeezed their cat, causing her to meow and try to bite his fingers "that's why..." his mouth was dry, "another day, you mentioned a fan... That's why...?"

"Yeah," Leo shuddered and curled up on his side since JD was no longer sitting on him, watching Jon, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I hate him," Jonah answered honestly, "and I hate the fact that you still have all these scars, I wish - I know it's silly, but I wish I had met you earlier, I wish I could've helped."

Leo smiled sadly, "I wish I had met you earlier too, babe," he sighed, coughing again, "I don't hate him... I'm pretty sure he had the same chronic depression I have-"

"Being depressed doesn't cause people to abuse little kids, Leo," Jon said sternly, "sucks for him, but this justifies nothing."

Leo nodded, wincing "yeah, I know... But I can't help thinking it if he wasn't so severely depressed, things would've been different. He wouldn't have drunk all the time, for starters."

"He'd still be a fucking asshole," Jonah scoffed, leaning in and planting a kiss on his boyfriend's forehead, lingering there, "I'm happy you moved here and that... And that we found each other... And that you told me all that."

Leo melted under the kiss, tugging on his sweater and causing Jonah to crumple on him into an awkward hug. JD let out a yelp and jumped away from between them, offended.

"Doesn't this scare you?" Leo whispered, voice muffled by Jonah's sweater, "I know it's a lot, the- the past, yeah, but also now-"

"Nothing about you scares me," Jonah hugged him a little bit tighter, "we all have baggage, Leo," he pulled back to look him in the eye and met Leo's feverish gaze, blue eyes searching his face as if Jonah was going to pull back and say gotcha, "I want to help you carry yours too."

Leo let out a little scoff, pulling back with a smile, "since when you're so good at communicating?"

"Please," Jonah rolled his eyes in a playful manner, pressing his forehead to Leo's, "you're so feverish, you're delusional."

[the-stove-is-divorced]

*seeing the possible nicknames: Ships and Sails* Hmmmm, uh, how about we combine them for the ultimate irony? Since you don't like shipping, how about Sailing Ships?

Have you planned out the future plot of kintsugi? Of course, nothing is set in stone and you can change it whenever but what are your plans at this point of time? I'm very curious 👀👀

Oh my goodness, this is so perfect??? It honestly has the exact kind of vibe to be a mlp pony name, and I adored that show so absolutely, yes! I am Sailing Ships, who dislikes shipping, now and forever thank you. Irony my beloved!!! (*´▽`*) ♡♡♡

And sort of! Most fics have a general point of conflict I wanna reach and/or moments I wanna build up to and write the story along the way, so 98% isn't planned, but 2% I really want to reach for. Tysm for asking btw, I love chatting about fic ideas!!! (´,,•ω•,,)♡

The main eventual conflict is that fact a) Chill/Blue doesn't want to go back together and become One Whole Bruce Wayne because this specific part of Bruce doesn't like being Batman. He's actually one of the few aspects with some actual self preservation, and simply put: it's exhausting, it feels futile, it's painful, and he's done enough. As the personification of indulgences and whims, Chill/Blue wants to indulge in the idea of retirement, putting his feet up, doing what he wants, eating what he wants, and rejecting the hard standards and restrictions Bruce puts himself on. He wants to indulge in the joys he feels he's been neglecting to be Batman, he's tired of the sacrifice and efforts it takes to maintain on a constant basis.

As you can probably guess, b) the others hate this. Hope/Gold is what made Batman and what saved Bruce from despair by giving him something to work towards, Crimson would be frustrated by the idea of doing nothing at all when he could be doing something, and Lavender couldn't stand the idea of how many people could get hurt by sitting idly by. Both Lavender and Crimson don't like Blue, and frankly wouldn't mind if he wasn't part of the Whole Bruce Wayne anymore, and while Hope can appreciate anything by nature, he isn't exactly gonna run and demand for Blue to stay. But the conflict is the all of them have to be together for the whole Bruce to come back.

And gosh, if you don't mind the ramble I love having character study types fics like these! Because it's demonstrating there is a part of Bruce that can understand he is, objectifying, overworking himself and sacrificing his own life for a meaningful cause, it's selfless for others, but arguably self destructive it taken way too far. It's not good, it's not pleasant, but when there's so many reasons to keep going, (like Hope, Lavender, and Crimson each think about), who cares about the small part of him desperate for sleep? If he has to stay in perfect shape, who cares about the craving for popcorn or ice cream he has? If he has a city to save, who cares if his spine hurts so badly, or his knees ache, or his body is still bruised? Bruce, Batman, to me, is a character who probably give anything to anyone who needs it, and yet deny himself the same generosity at the same time.

I also want moments of Blue bonding with one of the kids, or something of the like. Confessing about how much he likes heights, how much he loves the rain, being strangely, perhaps jarringly open, because he's not afraid of sharing the wrong thing, or how carefully he has to think about what to say, because words are so meaningful to him. I want to show how harsh Crimson will be with other aspects of Bruce, but loathe being that harsh with others. Stuff like that! :D

AGAIN TYSM FOR SHOWING INTEREST! I love yapping about fic ideas and fic plots and the like, teehee. (´꒳`)♡ I should have a chapter out hopefully soon????

[allylikethecat]

Hiya!

First off I absolutely ADORE your writing to an insane degree, you are so talented. Do you think Matty from All the King's Horses will ever make a comeback? Or horseboy!matty in any respective? It heals my little equestrian heart 🥲

Ah! Hello! Thank you so much for reading oh my gosh and for the support, you are way too kind oh my gosh, thank you! I'm so happy to hear that you've enjoyed my works, ATKH in particular. ATKH is one of my most self indulgent projects and I loved working on it, and I love IT in it's completed form so much. I am absolutely obsessed with my horse Pop, and so getting to write a fic about the horse world was extra fun!

I don't have any plans at the moment to write any more ATKH Fictional!Matty, but never say never. If he does make a comeback it will probably be in the form of a prequel - exploring what a miserable time he had before he arrived at Dirty Hit Show Stables.

I've played around with the idea of writing something about a different Fictional!Matty's time in rehab and the equine therapy he participated in while there, but have so many other projects I'm working on, and so many talented people have already tackled that topic, that I'm not sure if that's something I'll be exploring anytime soon. But just know, I LOVE horses and I'm thinking about them always. I literally ride five to six days a week 😂

Thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read my works and send me this lovely ask! I hope you are having a wonderful day and that you have a fantastic rest of your week! Thank you again!

❤️Ally

[skyward-floored]

B I N S and V :)

- hero-of-the-wolf

B: any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Man which of my stories aren’t? It’s especially obvious in stuff like Incredibles au (you could give me pretty much any fic I’ve written for it and I could tell you a story about my life it was based off of), but a lot of others are too. The one that’s probably the most inspired by real life is my one anon fic, but... well. It’s an anon fic for a reason. sorry.

I: do you have any guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing?)

Yeah... I’m a sucker for like, soft (usually family) moments..? Like that fic with Lost, that was guilty pleasure all the way through. Entirely self indulgent. Also like, intense hurt/comfort, where it just hits that spot in your chest and you feel almost tingly from it, that’s the good stuff.

And this is just reading, but sometimes I like to read really awful horrible hard-hitting bawl-your-eyes-out oh my gosh why whump. Stuff that’s more painful then what I myself can handle writing, but once in a blue moon feel like reading. Idk. It’s weird.

N: is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Not exactly? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wish some of my fics would just get finished already, but... I’d want to write them myself rather than have someone else do it? Writing the fic is like half the fun XD Plus there’s only a few people I’d trust to finish off stuff I myself haven’t finished.

S: any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Mmm. Hyrule blood curse fics. Downfall duo stuff. Warriors and traitor angst/trust issues. Nightmares and being comforted afterwards. Aaaaaand zelinks other than just sky/sun in lu— though that’s not really a trope I just like it heh

V: if you could write the sequel or prequel to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Ooh. Uhh. Well. I honestly don’t think I would be able to do that since I think I’d worry too much about living up to the original and doing something the author wouldn’t like, but then again... it would be so awesome to do a prequel/sequel for But First They Must Catch You.

[plusreaderswhenever]

Hi! I couldn’t find if you did any Magolor + Reader ficlets, and if you did I’m so sorry (can I be directed towards it?) and if you didn’t could I request one?

Thank you in advance!

Signed, a huge Magolor fan

oh my gosh MY FIRST EVER REQUEST! Ahem… I worked on a Magolor fic for a while before but decided to not finish it, and then I got this ask! Then I finished it and here it is, it’s not as bad as I thought it was turning out yay! Btw I was writing it a bit self indulgently (it’s a little sad) since it’s not originally from this ask so I hope that’s okay with you. Also this is, indeed, the only fic with Magolor in it I currently have, you were right lol! I hope you like it, and happy reading!

Magolor + Reader

You were at home, crying. Nothing went wrong, but you were crying anyway. Life sucks for you. (And that’s okay.) Your phone had been ringing annoying alarms for at least five minutes straight before, but they eventually died out. Your friends must have realized you didn’t want company, which would’ve been good a few minutes ago, but suddenly you felt like you could handle having someone nearby now. And you also NEEDED to have someone nearby now. You decided to text your friends back finally, since you luckily had the strength to move at least.

You opened your phone. 94 messages?! That’s a lot! Well, it had been ringing for 5 minutes straight earlier. You were treated to reading the following messages:

SkyBaby (that’s Kirby btw, RecD reference): what’s wrong? u didn’t show up to the picnic i planned w/ u! No one likes to refuse food! Are u ok?

ChinchillaTheCutest (that’s Elfilin): Kirby told me you didn’t show up to his picnic. What’s going on? He seems worried about you, probably because you passed up the chance to eat, but I get that you were probably just busy! But seriously, Kirby’s gonna cry if you don’t tell him why you weren’t there.

TripleD (you know): kirby’s crying! i asked him what was wrong and he said u didn’t show up to his picnic! whats up w/that?

BlueberryBatman (you know this one too): I heard that you did not show to a hang-out with Kirby. I hope you are okay. (If you read my Meta Knight + Reader, you know why he’s so concerned lol)

Spidersarenerdsallofthem (Taranza, I’m keeping in line with the lore of my Taranza + Reader): The king told me you hadn’t gone to a meet-up you promised Kirby. Is there anything wrong? I, your best friend, cannot allow you to stay hurt if you are hurt!

Spidersarenerdsallofthem: Nevermind that, something just came up. It probably wasn’t anything serious anyway, it might have been just because you were busy! I hope you understand~

Egg: yo, wassup? i heard you didn’t show to a hangout w/ kirbs was it because you forgot or smth?

You decided to respond to Magolor. You hadn’t talked to him enough and wanted to get to know him better. The only time you got to talk to him was when Kirby took you to see Merry Magoland, so you didn’t really know him beyond what was probably just a customer-service smile. Although Kirby convinced you two to give each other your phone numbers since he wanted all his friends to be able to contact each other in the event of a new threat that needs the power of friendship to be defeated, neither of you called or texted the other until now.

Well, here goes nothing.

You: i didnt forget i just wasnt feeling up to it… wanna hang out? im feeling a bit better now and would like to get to know you

Egg: a friend of kirby’s is a friend of mine! omw

You were glad dreamland was so peaceful. There was so little crime, people could just go to the houses of almost-strangers! While Magolor was on his way, you texted Kirby an apology for not coming to his picnic. He took it well, but you were still guilty for no good reason.

You hear the doorbell ring, and it was much tougher to get up than it had been to pick up your phone. It felt like your bones were made of lead, and your muscles were feeling weaker than usual. You wanted to cry again. Apparently you weren’t as over your meltdown as you thought, but you still managed to do it and went to the door.

You opened the door, and there he was, waiting patiently. 

You smiled to be polite and greeted, “Hey Magolor.” 

He exclaimed, “Yo, y/n! Doing okay?” 

You answered, “No.” 

He looked sad. 

“Is that why you passed up the opportunity to spend time with Kirby?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Can I come in?”

You just nodded, and moved out of the way to let him in your house.

You closed the door and led him to the couch, where you both sat down. You wanted to ask him if you could vent to him, but you couldn’t possibly ask that. You just met him! Frick, why did you even invite him over just to do nothing?!

Fortunately, being the socially knowledgeable, charismatic person he is, Magolor could tell by your expression and body language, as well as what you told him earlier, that you had something you wanted to tell him, and he knew no one likes an awkward silence. “Wanna talk about it?” He sat there eagerly, ready to take whatever you told him.

“Well… I’m probably depressed. I spent a lot of today crying for no reason, and a bit ago, I’d have probably died if anyone spoke to me. But then I thought I should CALL A BORDERLINE STRANGER TO VENT TO THE SECOND I GOT LONELY, I’M SO SORRY I CALLED YOU HERE-” You started coughing and crying from your little outburst, to which Magolor replied by patting your back to help your respiratory system and worriedly telling you, “It’s okay-” 

“NO IT’S NOT OKAY!” You yelled, and started crying again. He looked concerned before, but now he tried to calm himself down for your sake. He asked, “Can I put my hand on your head for a sec?” You were bewildered, but nodded, still weeping. 

He started petting you. What? He kept doing it. When you were quiet enough to talk to, he reminded you, “Hey. Remember when we met at Merry Magoland? We talked for a little bit. So we’re not borderline strangers. Besides, if we’re in the world where Kirby can instantly convince enemies to become his friend and fight alongside him, we can be friends.”

Oh, he was right wasn’t he? Your wailing slowed to the occasional sob, and you looked at him again. He was still concerned, but happy you were getting better. He continued to pet you, and you quietly reached out and pet him, too. He started PURRING. Oh gosh a kitty! you thought.

In your already emotional state, his cuteness and kindness made you cry again for some reason, but more quietly this time. It seemed like anything would make you want to cry now. He just hugged you (or, pressed his hands against you comfortingly, since he has no arms it’s the closest he can get). “There, there.”

You hugged him back and muttered, “Thank you.”

“Anytime. By the way, my dude, wanna play Minecraft? I’m sure it’ll show us the power of best friends!”

Giggling at the sudden change in vibes and glad to think about something else, you two played minecraft the rest of the day and loved it. The end!

[apoptoses]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

oh gosh anon this is hard!! i've picked my five not because i think i did anything deep in them, but because i wrote them purely to be self indulgent. and i think that's important in writing, you have to please yourself as the author because otherwise what's the point?

The Devil's Water - Amadeo/Riccardo [explicit] : in which Amadeo, too worked up by Marius and the blood to sleep, gets Riccardo out of bed and gets the loving he needs. My favorite little friends with benefits (and crushes)

Red, Violent Red - Armand/Daniel [explicit] : in which Armand wants to learn how to dirty talk like a modern man, gets spanked, and both submits and dominates. I just really loved making Daniel so desperate for Armand he would drink his blood sweat.

Fade Into You - Armand/Daniel [mature] : in which Daniel wants to really experience what it's like to have vampire's form of desire, and takes Armand apart with just some kissing and biting. I loved getting to play with the part in Devil's Minion in which it was noted Daniel sometimes tried to gash Armand's throat open himself to drink from him while he was still mortal.

Angle Of Incidence - Armand/Daniel [explicit] : In which Armand plays doctor. The fuck nasty medical kink fic I always wanted to write but took a while to get the courage to do. I love this fic so much I don't know what to do with myself! I wrote it entirely for ME and I'm happy everyone else liked it too.

Turn Away No More - Armand/Daniel [explicit] : in which Daniel really, really enjoys all the way Armand is masculine and gets a big treat for it. I just wanted some body hair fic so, so bad so I wrote it for myself and got delighted by the fandom being on board. And now there's so much more art and fic with these guys with body hair! I'm so happy!

Tagging in: @hekateinhell, @desertfangs, @rainbowcarousels, @uncivilcivilservice, @butchybats

Thank you for the positive ask, anon! I love creator positivity ♥

[feralkwe]

Tell me any thoughts you have on your Trespasser fic?

oh gosh! i have so many thoughts about this story, so many directions i want to go in it. i want to see what a healed inbar looks like, how that gap of time between dai and trespasser allowed her to really grow in the ways that chasing corypheus did not allow. any time you write a relationship of any degree between the inquisitor and dorian, you have that bittersweet separation, and with the added element of iron bull in the middle of them, there is a lot of me that is very eager to get back to their post-coryphipiss lives. i want to see what the future looks like for them, and how the events of trespasser both usher that in, and interrupt it. i toyed around with a lot of very self-indulgent ideas regards their chosen family situation, and i am still undecided as to whether or not i actually want to do any of it. time will tell, and there is no need to hurry on it.

i also want to see if i can fit in an actual redemption arc, or even a moment of it, for sebastian, since he has his fingers in so much of inbar's story. it feels unfair to him, as a character i truly love digging into the nooks and crannies (good and bad) of, to leave him hanging to wallow in his (very large) mistakes, and i want to really let that peripetea following hawke's (alleged) death have its way with him. he said a lot of terrible things following adamant, and i can't let that be the last word on it.

and then there's anders. oh, anders, where are you? how are you managing? he's been so silent and absent since leaving miriei behind. even if there's no room for a proper narrative arc (and i don't want to over-stuff the story) i want to set up a third act for him in my universe. i touched on it a bit in a warden's penitence, but it was an in and out sort of thing because i didn't want to make the story about him.

what will probably happen is there will be another story that ties up all of the mess that da2 made in my story canon, because digging into sebastian and anders re: hawke is honestly too much to ask of one story that, honestly, is not about them. mirei deserves better.

i very very much do intend to go back and write this eventually, because i had so ding dang much fun writing inbar's story, especially the relationship(s) between inbar, iron bull, and dorian, and i love them all so much. i genuinely miss the, because i am pretty gosh darned proud of how i wrote their little triangle. it's the healthiest relationship i've ever written lol. but, two things have to happen before i can do this, the first is replay trespasser, which requires me to finally switch all my ea games over to their steam-clone, and i have to stop being mad at bioware so i can get in a dragon age headspace again.

[tiny-crescent]

Heyy! hope I’m not coming off as wierd or a bit too much But I just wanted to tell you how much I adore your art style. I think it’s perfect and love how you draw the death note girls, and the texture and coloring of your art. I stumbled upon your blog and have just been addicted ever since lol. your writing is also amazing, love the way you portray my bae matsuda (#matsudacult). My fave is ‘over, under’ and I hope you continue doing what you do.

I know writing fics is hard and frustrating at times, but I just wanted to tell you I think your doing very well, and that I love reading your work.

<3

not weird at all!!! oh my gosh. this is such an incredibly kind message to receive– I'm really touched. thank you so much! :''')

not to get too personal, but creating this blog has really helped shape my perception of myself. there was a point last year when I had so much anxiety that I was literally afraid to draw. writing fanfic and drawing fanart has helped a lot– I think because it's a fairly low pressure activity and, honestly, it's just plain old self indulgent fun! it warms my heart to hear that other people enjoy it as well.

thank you!! ♥ your message means a lot! ♥

[thebumblecee]

Ugh… the suspense is killing me! It’s getting worse with every chapter. And to be clear I mean it in the most amazing way possible! Gosh this fic is soooo good. You and mosh are the bomb for delivering every week. And now I am back to my dilemma whether I want to either Carlos or TK to fulfill their contract…

Asdfghjkl that was pretty much our dilemma too.

I’m delighted you are enjoying it, it’s got so much plot and weird twists and turns we really hoped it was engaging enough that people are like oh okay, let’s see where this goes.

I’m speaking on behalf of myself here when I say there were points I was like we’re going to lose them because this isn’t going to be obvious at first lol people are going to wonder what’s wrong with us lol (it’s that we were very self indulgence and we kept pushing each other into writing new things we’ve never tried and it was so much fun)

I’m sure @mooshkat has their own experience on the whole thing.

I’m so happy you’re enjoying the story enough to keep up. See you next week 😘

[allylikethecat]

allyyy youre not the only one who cares about you know where the city is 😭 i love it so much and im so excited to meet that verse's george and see his pissing contest with taylor!

and omg both a&e and ducklings soon 😱 and right after that on a friday update too (idk how to explain, but friday has such a fresh vibe to me for omegaverse and im loving the direction so far)! idk if its too weird for me to say this on anon ignore me if so, but take your time and remember to get rest too <3

also istg one of these days im gonna have to pull up top gun or mens hockey because i just know im missing out with your other fics. the fandon stereotype about mens hockey writers is so true ahahaha

Oh my gosh thank you so much!! This ask just made me tear up it's so sweet!

I am 100% the target audience for You Know Where The City Is and as much as I love to write self indulgent fic (which basically all of mine is) I was worried that no one else cared and I know I have a lot of other projects people actually do like so just, hearing that you are also enjoying You Know Where the City Is, despite all of their IRL controversy makes me so happy! I can't wait for the Fictional!George and Fictional!Taylor pissing contest, it's still a few chapters out but the little bits I've written and outlined have made me so happy. Poor Fictional!Matty has no idea that they are the metaphorical toy they are fighting over either 🤣

Yes! The A&E fic update is all ready and saved in my drafts on AO3 to be published tomorrow morning before I leave for work! The chapter is a little different and I hope you like it! You will have to let me know!

Make Way for Ducklings will hopefully be coming in hot by the end of the week! Getting that chapter finished is my next priority!

ALSO I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying my take on the omegaverse! I'm a nerd and it's actually so fascinating to me how different authors have such different takes on it? I know I've mentioned it before, but one of my absolutely all time favorite books is The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin and her approach to gender has really influenced my writing (both in On a Friday and in Make Way For Ducklings) ... also not to be TMI but I also have horses... I just have a gelding (castrated male horse) now but I used to also have a very slutty little mare that made her heat cycle everyones problem and I would constantly be yelling at her to leave her brother alone 😬

I'm very proud of my Top Gun work - I'm taking a little break from updating most of those fics because I was putting too much pressure on myself with them because of how many hits they were getting and making myself anxious about it which was not fun and not the vibe- BUT I am extremely proud of them! My recent Hockey RPF (Hurricane in particular) I am proud of as well and am still actively working on! The rest... Baby Ally was unmedicated and very unhinged, proceed with caution and read at your own risk - I like to think I have become a much better writer since a lot of that was published haha

Thank you so much for this ask! I apologize for writing an novel in response - I got a little excited! Thank you for reading as well! I hope you enjoy the A&E update tomorrow and am excited to hear what you think!

❤️Ally