#typing it as ‘making love’ because sometimes tumblr shadows certain words in the tags so(-:

[voidcat]

Having your s/o lie down on you, just collapse their entire body weight against you>>>

Like yes babe please be my fake pretend weighted blanket until one of us struggles to breathe or gets agitated thanks:3

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Alan’s comfort

This was something I wanted to write about TOS Alan (and maybe continue on with this series of mini-fics... I don’t know lol)

But I like to thank @myladykayo, @katblu42 (and Red, I forgot your tumblr name, sorry *sweatdrop*)

(Also tagging: @mothmandalore, @dreamycloud, @jacksonstarkiller, @uniwolfcorn. You are very welcome ;)

-0-0-0-

Alan shut the door behind him and stomped across his bedroom to crash into his bed headfirst. He felt tired. Physically… and emotionally.

The arguments with his dad were getting the tole on him. He felt he was getting nowhere, despite his greatest efforts. Why was he getting nowhere? He doesn’t fucking know! (If Scott would’ve heard his thoughts, he would’ve called him out to watch his profanity.)

He flipped to his back and looked up at the ceiling. He let out a long sigh, letting out the bottled-up frustration he had with his life. He felt that anything he tried wasn’t enough. Another sigh. Followed by a tiny whine.

 Being the youngest one was hard.

 Alan listened to the clock on his nightstand ticking away. Time passed slowly for the young blond. His breathe felt he had been chocking on the air of the island. It wasn’t just the heat. His family was suffocating him.

 He needed fresh air. So, Alan got up and kneeled to reach something under his bed. It was a box. A big box. He opened it, revealing stacks of some magazines. A collection that he had since he was fourteen. He took them out and opened to a certain page, one by one. He felt a sense of calm when he looked at them and its not from nostalgia. He laid them on the floor and sat on the rim of the bed to looked over to the open magazines.

 Alan let himself lost on the contents of the pages, relieving his frustration, but his anger was still fresh. He didn’t notice his door opened; a shadow slipped in holding a glimmering silver tray. He didn’t notice the figure laying down the tray on the nightstand before looming next to him. It wasn’t until he felt a warm wrinkled hand placed on his shoulder.

 “Have some tea, Mr. Alan,” said the figure, “it should help you ease your temper.”

 At first, the young blonde didn’t bother to look up at the guest. But then he did, his dim ocean blue eyes met with reassuring old eyes of peridot.

 “Oh… Hi Kyrano,” he greeted lamely.

 The father of Tin-Tin gently rubbed his shoulder before reaching out for the cup of tea and handed to the young adult. Alan wordlessly took it and slowly sipped the warm liquid.

 Kyrano noticed the magazines laying on the floor, immediately recognizing the contents inside, “I see the Kamen Riders give you some sort of comfort,” he pointed out.

 Alan nodded. Taking another sip before replying, “They had always been…”

 He remembered when he opened a random magazine at a thrift store after what it seemed to be a bad day at school, he turned to a particular page that struck a chord in him. A page filled with blurry pictures of the legendary Kamen Riders. Fighting whatever was terrorizing the place where people lived. Titles yelling, “WHO ARE THOSE BUGMEN?!” and texts summarizing a short history about them. It sparked curiosity withing Alan and… since then he became fond of them. Reading every news paper and magazine and listening to every radio and TV about those mysterious, bike ridding bug-eyed heroes.

 Alan’s eyes never left the magazine that started it all, in which Kyrano noticed.

 “Out of curiosity, what aspects of them make you feel comfort?” the elder asked.

 The young blonde said nothing. But his thoughts answered for him: They are cool! They are fascinating! The mystery behind them sends thrills of excitement in him. And the fact that they help and save people as the fight threats and monsters (which they are a mystery on their own), and still do to this day! And… They are respected. Yeah… Respected.

 Kyrano must’ve read his thoughts because the elder suddenly spoke, “I know what you were thinking, Mr. Alan. You wanted to be treated the way most of the world treated those bug-eyed heroes. But I am sure those Riders are just as human as you are.”

 Alan knew that. He swore looking at the blurry pictures on the papers and the captured footage on TV, he saw glimpses of them either helping, support and respect each other in smallest gestures! But course, he also saw glimpses of their shortcomings, but does that matter? They were human as much as he could see!

And there times when, basing on the facts from witness reports he could find, a Rider would do something so dangerous, so reckless and over the top, just to save a person’s life, yet their fellows would either just give a fist bump, a tight hug (although very rare), or just any simple gesture of “good job!”.

 His family on the other hand, especially after missions, would scold him for doing something so reckless.  It was getting hard to stay professional. He felt like an underdog. A child! And the only people who treated the way he was supposed to, was Tin-Tin (albeit a little), Brains, Lady Penelope, Parker, his grandmother and even Kyrano!

 “Drink your tea, Alan. You are getting angry again,” kindly reminded Kyrano.

 Alan snapped out of his thoughts looked at Kyrano, then he shook his head, “No, not really. Sort of…” he took another sip.

 Tin-Tin’s father simply stood next to him like a shadow. But it was a reassuring shadow. A quiet shadow that listens but never judges.

 With another sigh, Alan continued, “Its just… There were times where I wish I was a Kamen Rider. Not just because to have cool powers and all, but… because I would feel respected. Respected for my efforts of helping people. For my willingness to reach out my hand to those in peril. I barely get that here. At least that’s how I felt on this island…”

 He then turned to lock eyes with the old man, “Do you think the Kamen Riders will accept me?”

 Kyrano’s eyes widen for a moment. But Alan waited, patiently. Then, the elder finally answered “Well… don’t you think they already have, after that rescue?”

 Alan knew what he was talking about. That rescue with the building fire. The rescue when International Rescue and Kamen Riders have met for the first time. It was a shock, for him and his brothers. One moment they were attacked by some monsters and then the next thing they knew they were saved by the masked bugmen.

 “But what do you mean by that, Kyrano?” Alan raised a curious brow.

 “Well? What have you felt when that certain Rider that you’ve been recently fond with gave you the thumbs up?”

 The young blonde remembered that moment like it was yesterday. When the red Rider lifted his hand and gave Alan (and his brothers) a thumbs up. He thought he had never felt such complete satisfaction after coming back from a mission.

 Alan couldn’t help but to smile.

 “I see…” Kyrano said softly, the corner of his lips slightly raised upwards.

 “But… dad said we shouldn’t trust them… at least not yet!” the young blonde then pouted as he sipped his tea again. Maybe a bit of a gulp.

 Suddenly Tin-Tin’s father snorted, causing Alan’s head to shoot up and stared at him in confusion. Kyrano began explaining calmly, “Ah, Mr. Tracy sure is a wise man. But sometimes he forgets about knowing your allies. In this case, I am very sure the Kamen Riders have a long-recorded history. From what I had seen, they were complicated… but they were mostly good.”

 “Really?” the blue ocean eyes sparkled like the stars he loved.

 “See it for yourself. Don’t take my word for it,” smiled Kyrano honestly.

 The elder turned his heel and went towards the door. But not before turning back and said, “I shall return once you have finished your tea, Mr. Alan,” and then left quietly just as he came in.

 It was no wonder Kyrano was his dad’s close friend, thought Alan.

 His lips stretched into a face-splitting grin. His anger that boiled earlier simmered into a bubbling excitement. Looking down to look at the Kamen Riders in the magazines one more time, he picked them all up and put them back into the box. Then pushed the big carton container back into its place under his bed.

 Getting up, he walked over to a big aquarium, where his Pygmy Alligator was watching him the whole time. The mini gator excitedly crawled up the glass from, looking quite happy for his human friend. Alan smiled as he gently petted his reptile, cheeking the temperature and humidity of the enclosure and looked for anything he should clean.

 Then he looked up the clock… An hour and a half before his Pygmy Alligator needed to be fed. Alan sat next to his mini gator’s aquarium, thinking about what he should do before feeding time.

Then, a thought flashed through his mind. With a cheeky smile, the young blond turned to his gator, “I guess I should follow Kyrano’s advice. Don’t you think, Artemis?”

 The Pygmy Alligator seemed like he’s smiling at him.

 With a grin, Alan got up and went to fetch his laptop before returning to sit next to Artemis. His curiosity began peeking as soon as he opened his custom computer. His inner child thirst for knowledge as he typed in the fist thing that came to his mind:

 … Kamen Rider… Kuuga…

[theycallmebecca]

Hey! Can I have 32. "What if I love you?"

You know what happens when your mind is free to think about stories while you spend close to five hours of a work day (including commuting to and from work) in a car? You get an idea that starts out small and becomes MASSIVE. So this drabble is the longest one I’ve written for this whole collection. Thanks to @nomadicpixel for her help with this one.

And since this behemoth took me like three hours to write, I haven’t had a chance to work on any of the three remaining prompts. Which means that I will be taking this weekend off from posting again with the goal of writing the said three remaining prompts to share with you all next week. Since Tumblr can sometimes be a brat about links, I will reblog this post with a link to the masterlist, prompt list and tags.

Title: Band of Misfits

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: a little bit of angst

Prompt #: 32 - “What if I love you?”

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Coming out of the bathroom, you glanced back at the door to the bedroom where you’d left Steve sleeping and silently wished him a good night. A small part of you wondered what it would be like staying all night with him, but that would break rule number one, always sleep at home.

Quietly, you made your way across his Brooklyn apartment and had almost reached his front door when you heard his voice, not from his bedroom but from the dark living room.

“What if I love you?”

His question hung in the air and you froze.

“What if I love you?” He said, again, his tone clear and to the point, letting you know that he wasn’t asking you a question, but stating a fact.

Turning around, you saw him step out of the shadows, revealing his naked body to you. The very same body that had just pleasured your own for the last couple hours.

“Is this really a conversation you want to have naked?” you asked him.

“We both know the second I turn my back, you’ll leave,” he stated.

He was right. Damnit.

He was also waiting for you to give him an answer, but you didn’t have an answer for him.

You didn’t do the love thing. Hell, you weren’t even sure what love actually was. You’d been abandoned as a sick infant and had grown up in the foster care system because you hadn’t been the perfect child every set of perspective parents had been looking for. No one had wanted you and you’d left the system at age eighteen with the desire to see the world.

The next ten years had seen you moving from city to city, state to state and, eventually, country to country. You’d only stayed in a place long enough to plan your next move and make the money, usually by waiting tables or bartending, to go. You’d met people and had hooked up, but nothing had ever lasted.

Then you’d come to New York City and gotten a job at a bar in Brooklyn. That’s where you’d met Steve and, eventually, his band of misfits (or so you called his group of friends). That had been two years ago.

You’d felt a kinship to Steve and his friends almost instantly; a feeling that had been strange and somewhat unnerving to you, but you hadn’t run away from it. Instead, you had embraced it, to a certain extent, and, for the first time in your life, had been part of a group.

And, for the last eighteen months, you and Steve had been hooking up on a regular basis. Always at his apartment so you could go home and sleep in your own bed afterwards. It had been perfect.

After taking a deep breath, you spoke as calmly as you could manage. “Steve, you know I don’t deal with that stuff,” you told him, unable to even speak the word ‘love’. “Why do you have to complicate this? Everything is perfect.”

“Everything is not perfect when you break my heart a little bit each time you leave,” Steve replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “I love you and I want to have a relationship with you. The real kind where our friend’s don’t pretend they don’t know that we’re having sex three nights a week before you go run home because of a stupid rule you made up when you were -”

The pressure built inside of you had he spoke and finally you couldn’t take it anymore. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” you exclaimed.

Steve shut up instantly and watched you.

“You know what I went through as a kid,” you reminded him. “You know why I am the way I am. Why I have to protect myself from the world. No one cares -”

“I care,” Steve interrupted you. “I love you and so do our friends. We’ve all experienced the world telling us we’re not worth it and had those times when we had no one else to turn to. But look at us now. We’re our own, chosen family.

"You’ve been a part of our family for two years and I want you and I to make our own branch of this new, amazing family tree,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “My heart is yours.”

You shook your head as a sense of numbness surged through your body. “I can’t, I just can’t,” you told him. You opened your mouth as if to say something else, but no words came out.

Steve stood on the other side of the room for a moment longer before he spoke again. “I’ll wait for you.” Then he turned and went into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

You stood by his front door for a long time, trying to process everything that had just happened. Finally, a single word came to mind:

Run.

You’d left that night, taking everything that would fit in your backpack. It had been hard, parting with some things that reminded you of the misfits, but dropped some stuff off at Natasha’s apartment on your way to the train station. Including a letter to her, asking to take care of a few things for you.

Like telling Steve you’d left.

Wanting to get out of New York, you’d taken the first train that left the state and had made your way down the eastern seaboard. Then you’d headed out west, ultimately ending up in Nashville, Tennessee, where you only stayed for a couple weeks. Too many songs about unrequited love and broken hearts.

Unlike your previous travels, you found yourself finding a fault with every town new town you found yourself in and unable to settle in any of them. None of them seemed like the right place for you.

It took three months of traveling around the United States and a month traveling in New Zealand for you to admit to yourself that there wasn’t a place that could replace New York City for you. Further revelations had come to you in Australia when you realized that it wasn’t the city that was magic to you, but the people you had left behind.

It had taken you another few weeks to admit that the person you missed the most was Steve. But you were still adamant that you weren’t in love with him. At least not in the type of love that was described in sappy movies and books.

With six months of traveling between you and Steve’s declaration, you found yourself backpacking in Europe. You’d gotten used to the strange looks people gave you when you told them that you were traveling alone. It was how you preferred to be.

Most of the time.

It wasn’t until you were walking down an old cobblestone path and saw someone who reminded you of Natasha that you suddenly felt like you weren’t where you were supposed to be. You longed, not for your tiny apartment, but the bar where you’d met the Misfits. Natasha and her tough girl attitude. Bucky and his ability to charm the pants off of everyone. Sam and his stupid jokes. Maria and her ability to see right through you. And Steve…

You missed everything about Steve. Right down to the stupid way he put his hands on his hips when he was disappointed in you.

It was there on the cobblestone streets that tears rolled down your cheeks for the first time since you were a kid. And you realized you were homesick for the first time in your entire life.

You returned to your hotel room and had the sudden urge to hear a friendly voice. You picked up the receiver in your room and started to dial Steve’s number, but chickened out before dialing the last few numbers. You couldn’t talk to him. Not yet.

Instead, you dialed Natasha’s number, hoping you’d catch her at a good time. She answered on the third ring. You timidly told her who it was and felt your heart skip a beat when she exclaimed that she missed you.

Then the connection started to break up and you only caught three words:

“Steve-”

“-wedding-”

“-Saturday.”

The line went dead after that and you felt your stomach drop.

Steve was getting married on Saturday?

“I’ll wait for you.”

Steve’s final words to you came back and you shook your head. Natasha had to be mistaken. Unless your disappearance had opened the door for Steve to find someone new. Or maybe develop new feelings for someone he knew?

You slept fitfully that night and gave up before the sun made its appearance with your mind made up. You were going home.

Two long train rides later, you found yourself in Paris, France, waiting for your flight to New York City that was scheduled to land in New York City sometime Saturday morning. You just hoped you could find Steve in time.

You managed to sleep some on the flight, but the adrenaline to get to Steve in time kept you going as you all but ran out of the airport. You weren’t sure what you were going to tell Steve, but you had to see him one last time before he got married. If he got married.

As the cab driver made his way towards Steve’s Brooklyn apartment, you tried to gather your thoughts, but they were sporadic and refused to come together. It wasn’t until the driver was around the corner from Steve’s place that one word seemed to fight it’s way through the mess:

Love.

“We’re here,” the driver announced.

And you looked up in time to see Steve coming down the stone steps of his building wearing a black suit. Your eyes met his and he missed the last step, but caught himself before he could hit the ground.

“Are you getting out?” the driver asked.

“Yes,” you managed to reply. You paid him and then grabbed your backpack before you opened the car door.

The cab merged into traffic seconds after you closed the door. Leaving you and Steve alone on the sidewalk.

“I’m back,” you announced, instantly feeling like an idiot.

“So I see,” Steve replied. “You look good.”

“Thanks, you look good, too,” you said and gestured to the suit. “Big day today.”

He nodded his head. “It’s about time, too,” he said. “I didn’t think Sam was ever going to work up the courage to ask Maria out and now they’re getting married.”

“Sam and Maria!” you exclaimed, feeling the lead weight that had been sitting in your stomach for the last three days all but vanish.

Steve studied you for a second before saying, “Who did you think was getting married today?”

In the past, you had learned how to read his emotions based on his expression and his stance, but you found yourself unable to as the two of you stood on the sidewalk. You’d seen the initial shock that had crossed his face at your appearance, but had masked his emotions since and you knew you just had to go for it. He’d told you where his heart and mind were months ago. Now you had to do the same.

“I took two trains and a plane to get here in hopes that I’d be able to talk to you before you got married,” you confessed, feeling hints of your exhaustion seep into your body. Or maybe it was more of the emotions you’d tapped into on that cobblestone street.

“You know my background, Steve, you know that I’ve never had a home or a family,” you continued. “And then I met you and your band of misfits. And you guys took me in under your wing and let me experience what it’s like to truly be loved. Only, I didn’t realize it until I walked away from you all.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asked.

“What if I love you?” you said, repeating his question from that night months ago. “Do you still love me? Can I be with you? Can I be a part of your misfit family?”

Instead of answering verbally, Steve closed the distance between the two of you and kissed you, his hands cupping your face in a firm but gentle manner. You’d kissed him before, but it had been nothing like the kiss he gave you now. This kiss told you everything you needed to know.

He still loved you.

He wanted to be with you.

And you were part of his family forever.

The sound of a phone ringing interrupted the kiss and it took Steve a moment to realize it was coming from his pocket. He answered the phone and then glanced at you before telling whoever was on the other end that he was running late but had a surprise for everyone.

Then he led up you to his apartment and opened the coat closet door, revealing all of the clothing and personal items that you had left behind in your furnished apartment because they didn’t fit in your backpack.

“I knew you would come back eventually,” he told you as he watched you grab a dress. “And you’d need clothes.”

Turning towards him, you pressed your lips against his briefly. “I could get used to that,” you said with a small laugh.

“We might not get to if we aren’t at the church around the corner in the next fifteen minutes,” Steve said with a smile. “Nat is stalling for us, but you know how Maria is.”

You changed quickly and then you and Steve all but ran to the church. Bucky was pacing the lobby when the two of you burst through the doors and he stopped when he saw you. He stared at you for a second before he shouted with glee and ran to give you a hug.

His shout brought Sam out of the groom’s room and he greeted you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He then had Steve lead you down to where Maria and Natasha were getting ready, knowing that the two women would be happy to see you, too.

The moment Natasha opened the door and saw you standing there, she yanked you into the room and slammed it closed in Steve’s face. Then she wrapped you in a hug and told you off for disappearing into thin air. You got the same response from Maria, who, after scolding you, started crying saying she was so happy that the whole family was there for her wedding. Then she insisted that you be a part of the wedding party.

After spending nearly seven months running away from your family, you openly cried as you watched two of them exchange their vows in front of the small group that had gathered for the ceremony. You still had a lot to learn about love and family, but you knew you had the right people around you to learn from.

[abnormalpsychology]

The Bully (part one)

[HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Ya boi is excited bc I’m uploading my first-ever fanfic!! @joshua-rush-fanpage I hope you like it! This is part of the Valentines Day Friendom Gift Exchange. I wrote quite a lot more than I expected to, so the tag #myfanfic on here will be where you can find the rest uploaded later today. Sorry about the spacing errors— I originally wrote this in a google doc and Tumblr was being weird when I tried to fix them. I really really hope you like it! The first part is utter shit as a warning but it gets better!!! Hopefully I write more stuff soon, but here’s a little GHC to warm your hearts for now. I can’t believe I’m leaving a long, shitty, Wattpad-ass Author’s Note for the whole world to see but here we fuckin’ are. I also did not think I was the Soulmate AU type, but ALSO here we fuckin’ are. Meme mutuals please don’t think I’m lame I PROMISE IM COOL UwU. Have a lovely day even if you don’t read anything besides my ramblings. Thanks for making a community where I feel brave enough to finally post some writing I’ve worked hard on. I’m very grateful. <3 @swingsetboys Thanks so much for arranging this.]

Kids normally started thinking about their soulmates and deciphering their marks once they got their first crush, but Cyrus Goodman was different. He’d been worried about love all of his life, and the more he thought, the less sense it made. Trusting fate was generally put forward as the best way to deal with soulmate-related issues, at least before you met them, but Cyrus was finding that trusting fate was remarkably more difficult than all of the online articles and books in his parents’ offices made it sound. He wondered sometimes if he maybe was the universe’s first-ever mistake, a legendarily big screw-up, and this was a concern that was difficult to express without simultaneously concerning everyone else around him.

Cyrus’ mark was in what he had decided was the worst possible place it could be— his back. Two solid pitch-black handprints were indented into his skin so he had to twist around in the mirror to even glimpse the peculiar birthmark, like a two-year-old’s art project smushed across his skin or a crude frat party drawing etched on during a hangover was supposed represent his hope for the future and the person he was supposed to love more than anything. He’d always felt weird about it. The question that was tied most to it, the great white whale, the million-dollar-Jeopardy one, was what the situation could possibly be that would cause the mark to light up, to fill with color, when it made contact with his future spouse’s skin.

They’re gonna... push me? It was still, after years of contemplation and stomachaches, the best theory he had. The first way the person he was supposed to find eternal happiness with was by them trying to hurt him. That sure didn’t sound like love to him.

How would he make them angry? What would he do wrong?

The thought was his shadow, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He didn’t want to make them angry, though! He wanted the person he was destined to spend the rest of his days with to like him right off the bat. He wanted the happy ending that everyone got.

“It’s fate,” Buffy had said and shrugged at their final summer sleepover before seventh grade began. “I mean, you can’t do anything to change it, Cy. I’m pretty sure you can’t fool the system by covering it with a tattoo. Since you always try to be as nice as possible anyway, I think you’re doing all you can.”

“Yeah.” He squinted. Maybe I’m just not good enough at being nice.

Buffy rolled her eyes, seeing through his words. “Cyrus. You really need to stop forgetting how cool you are. It’s annoying.”

“Thanks, Buffy, I just hope my soulmate understands my annoying… ness.”

“That was a joke—“

He gasped, shooting up with wide eyes. “What if I annoy them too much and that’s why they push me? What if I’m the one who ruins it?”

“Cyrus, I’m fairly certain that you would never be destined to spend your life with a total jerk. You may be weird, but that’s why soulmates love us, dummy. That’s why we love you.”

The two exchanged a smile, and Buffy reached around to squeeze his hand with her comforting smile.

“You’ll know when you see them anyway, because that’s like the whole thing. So… I don’t know. Maybe the push will be an accident or something. If it helps, I’ll personally remove the toenails if anyone who messes with you.”

“Well, I think,” Andi interjected like the voice of God from above, staring at the pair from her position of power on Cyrus’ couch. “You should stop worrying about something completely inevitable. It’s coming, like it or not.”

The boy let out a yelp and rubbed furiously at the goosebumps blooming on his skinny arms. “You didn’t have to phrase it like that, Andi!”

“Seriously,” Buffy agreed, eyes wide and unfocused. “Yikes.”

“It shouldn’t be scary. You two should really trust yourselves more. Future us will all make good decisions, I’m sure of it. Mostly. Probably.”

She leaned over to look down at her two best friends, reduced to frightened messes at the thought of someone who loved them, and deeply did not understand.

“I trust future Andi, at least. You two are weird.”

She stuck a bookmark made of old newspapers into the John Green book she was skimming, one of Bex’s favorites. She’d explained earlier about how since her older sister would be coming to visit her for the first time in practically forever, she had better know something about what she liked. Although from her various annoyed growls that echoed from above every once in a while, her friends could tell Andi’s tastes maybe differed from the latter’s.

“Real life isn’t that dramatic! Certainly isn’t as dramatic as this Augustus”—she gesticulated to the paperback copy—“thinks it is! What’s even going on in this book?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, setting the book down by the lamp.

“Yeah, whatever.” Buffy turned to look doubtfully over her left shoulder at her other best friend, from the spot on the calming maroon carpet where Cyrus was French-braiding her curls. “If you think all this soulmate crap will be totally drama-free, all relaxation and games, Andi, you’re kidding yourself. And it’s middle school.”

“You might want to rethink your position here,” agreed Cyrus, twirling a lock dastardly between his fingers.

A beeping sound came from the kitchen as butter filled the warm air, clashing with the rosy scent of the aromatherapy stuff Celia insisted on spraying everywhere before anyone else entered the house, even though it was just Buffy and Cyrus. They’re very well-behaved, Andi would always say, even though one was now swatting like a kitten at the other. True friendship.

“Stop that! Grow your own facial hair so you can stop using mine!”

“Low blow,” Andi commented.

“Never!” He fell backwards onto the carpet with a grunt as she attacked him with her fringe scarf, smacking her opponent with swift malice. Andi got up to go get their popcorn from the microwave, hopping easily over the destructive swarm of thrashing limbs on her floor.

The two broke apart, close to the door now. Like wrestlers, the kids sprinted to either corner of the room.

“Every time! This is why I don’t let you braid my hair, Cyrus!”

“You underestimate me! Now I have a secret weapon!”

A shadow rushed forward and cackled menacingly, a beautifully stitched pillow in shades of pink and red held aloft to decimate his friend.

“No! Bad Cyrus!” Andi scolded from the kitchen. “I made that for Bex!”

“This isn’t a Western!” Buffy yelled, hands up in surrender. “You aren’t going to tie Andi to the train tracks, no more!”

Cyrus pouted mutely, savoring the power, then conceded mercifully. “Ohhh-kay.”

“Maybe that’s why your soulmate will push you,” Buffy laughed. “You attack them, viciously, in a war of pillows.”

His face fell again, the weight of worry and insecurities returning instantly.

“Dammit.” Buffy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Maybe I will... I’d demolish them, anyway.”

The three collapsed onto the couch together once Andi returned, mutely chewing their popcorn, their feathery Cold War forgotten. They could still hear cicadas outside. It didn’t quite feel like school yet, and something about that made the night seem more important, more meaningful, and made them all the more grateful for the other people who they felt like they could tell anything.

“Soulmates are weird to think about, though,” Andi added. “I mean, it’s not something you can teach in school or anything. How one person is made for another. I think it’s pretty crazy. Although I bet Augustus and Hazel would disagree.”

“Yeah, love’s simple until you think about— like— what if they die before you meet them?” Cyrus said, the years’ worth of anxiety seeping into his words. “Assuming it isn’t a fate thing. What if you’re the first one to prove it wrong? Or… you don’t know if you like that type of person?”

“Well,” Buffy chimed in, shrugging. “I mean, people always do, so…”

The trio fell quiet.

“Like soulmates or not, we can agree the marks are freaky as hell?”

“Absolutely.”

“At least you don’t have your mark in as weird a place as me.”

“Buffs, yours is on your hand. That’s not that weird.” Cyrus reached over her back to lightly touch the white splash of color across her right palm, and she jerked it away fast as if she was scared of it going off like a bomb. “High-fives happen all the time.”

“I know, but why would future me let anyone touch my hand? That’s not allowed!” She shivered dramatically. “Ugh. Can you imagine me all… stupid and love-struck? That would be remarkably awful.”

“Middle school,” Cyrus said, nodding sagely. “It changes all who experience it.”

“Well,” Andi whispered, suddenly solemn. “I guess we’ll find out if it changes us too.”

“Guess we gotta trust that the Future Good Hair Trio will make good choices. Soulmates or otherwise.”

The three looked around.

“At least we’ll have each other. No matter who comes, we’ll at least have each other.”

[adorkablephil]

Fic: Listen (Chapter 5)

Title: Listen Rating: PG Word Count: 2.5K (this chapter) Summary: Phil is a successful YouTuber, and Dan is a fan desperate for attention. Sounds like 2009, right? Except Phil is Deaf. Tags: AU, Deaf!Phil, Mute!Dan, Both YouTubers, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Conversion Disorder Fic also available on AO3 here

[Masterlist of all “Listen” chapters on Tumblr]

Chapter 5: First

Dan evaporated like mist, as if he’d never existed. One moment, Phil felt a constant frisson of awareness of that delicious warmth along his side, only inches away, and then suddenly … nothing.

Well, not nothing: a couple of very enthusiastic teenage girls, obviously subscribers, mouths moving excitedly, probably not really thinking about the fact that he couldn’t hear a word they were saying, though his lip reading had improved a lot since he'd first left the Deaf school. But then the girls were miming requests to take selfies with him, and Phil happily obliged, as always. But his mind was elsewhere. Where had Dan gone? Phil hugged the girls goodbye, trying to smile warmly as he waved at them, attempting to shoo them off without being rude. They clutched their phones, giggling, as he turned away to look frantically up and down the street.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Dan: i’m in the apple store. come get me when theyre gone

The girls were still watching him with obvious fascination, so Phil strolled away from them and ducked into a nearby bookstore.

Phil: I’m in the WHSmith. I’ll wait until I’m sure they’re gone. Don’t you ever get fans stopping you in the street?

Dan: no

Phil: How is that possible? You have more subscribers than I do!

Dan: i don’t go out much & i keep my head down. maybe i dont have many subscribers in wokingham

Phil: I know you don’t go to the conventions, but surely you’ve met some of your fans sometime?

Dan: no

Dan: i mean then theyd know i can’t talk

Phil stood staring at his phone, not knowing what to say in response to that. He went to the front of the store and cautiously peered out. No sign of the excited girls. The Apple Store was about a block away, so he started walking in that direction.

Dan had never met a subscriber? At least all Phil’s viewers knew he was Deaf, and so he could be himself if he met them on the street and they wouldn’t be surprised. He had nothing to hide. But Dan let everyone believe that the “silent movie” theme was just his signature video style. He interacted with his audience enthusiastically on social media, but … he never interacted with anyone in person. He’d never even done any collabs with other YouTubers, as far as Phil knew.

Phil suddenly wondered if he was the only one Dan had told. He’d never thought about it, but now that he did, it seemed obvious.

He’d seen Dan interact frequently not only with fans but also with various other YouTubers on social media over the past couple years, and he seemed very friendly with many of them, especially the ones he knew Phil was personal friends with. Dan was always joking and supportive and self-deprecatingly funny with them all. But … Phil was probably the only one he’d trusted with the truth.

In the crowded Apple Store, Phil spotted Dan huddled in a corner with his hoodie pulled up to cover his hair and much of his face. He was staring down at his phone, his shoulders hunched as if braced for a blow. Phil stopped a couple feet away, not wanting to startle him.

Phil: I’m right behind you.

Dan turned immediately, and the pinched look on his face hurt Phil’s heart. His brown eyes were wide and frightened, his mouth tight and drawn. He looked back down at his phone, typing.

Dan: they didn’t see me did they?

Phil shook his head, smiling sadly, and then couldn’t help but take Dan in his arms for the first time. He was so much larger than the girls Phil had hugged only moments ago, but so much dearer and more precious, because this was Dan. His Dan. And he was hiding in an Apple Store because he was afraid.

Dan’s body went completely rigid for a moment, but then he suddenly relaxed into Phil’s hold as if deflating. His head sank down so that his forehead rested on Phil’s shoulder and he wrapped his long arms around Phil’s waist, squeezing as if clinging to a life raft in stormy seas. Phil raised a hand to brush aside the hoodie so he could stroke Dan’s hair slowly, over and over again. And maybe they were making a bit of a spectacle of themselves in the corner of the Apple Store, but Phil didn’t care.

But Dan might.

So Phil pulled away gently and waited for Dan’s head to come up. Phil gestured questioningly toward the door, and Dan nodded. Phil mimed putting his hood up, and Dan did, glancing around nervously. They left the store and walked to the bus stop more quickly than they’d been walking when they first left the Starbucks.

They didn’t talk at the stop, or even on the bus. They just stared at their individual phones, not even texting each other. Dan just followed Phil like a shadow.

When they arrived at the flat, Dan hovered near the front door, clearly nervous, as Phil removed his coat and hung it on the peg in the entryway. Dan’s eyes flitted here and there, trying to take in the whole room at once. He’d seemed skittish ever since the fans in the high street.

“Want a tour?” Phil signed, using his facial expression and inviting gesture to make his meaning clear. Dan nodded, pulling his hoodie sleeves down to mostly cover his hands in a move Phil had seen on Skype a hundred times, but which he found utterly adorable nonetheless.

Phil led him to the lounge and signed, “The lounge,” before identifying the signs for “table,” “sofa,” and “Playstation.” Well, okay, he fingerspelled “Playstation,” mostly just to see Dan smile. Phil pulled out his phone again.

Phil: How did you learn fingerspelling?

Dan pressed his palms together and then pulled them apart as if opening a book, which seemed clear enough. Phil nodded in understanding: Dan had actually gone looking for a book to learn the BSL alphabet. Phil’s heart swelled.

Dan held up a hand, and Phil stopped, watching him. Then Dan repeated the signs for “lounge,” “table,” and “sofa,” before laboriously fingerspelling “Playstation.”

“That’s great!” Phil signed with a broad smile. “Good memory!” He knew Dan would be able to figure out some of the signs just from context and from what they looked like, since BSL was fairly visually intuitive. So he led him through the flat, pointing things out and slowly signing their names, watching fondly when Dan copied him.

When he’d finished the tour, they wound up standing in the kitchen, just glancing around, avoiding each other’s eyes, not sure what to do next.

In the back of his mind, he kept remembering Dan’s intent eyes back at the Starbucks, Dan signing, “I want to kiss you.” Dan signing, “I love you.” But the Dan here with him in his flat in the present moment seemed comparatively distant and uncomfortable, shoulders hunched as tight as they’d been in the Apple Store, hands shoved nervously in his jeans pockets. He looked young and uncertain and self-conscious.

Resorting to the manners his mum had taught him, Phil picked up the kettle and signed, “Tea?” Then he held up the can of instant coffee and signed, “Or coffee?”

Dan’s shoulders lowered an inch or so and he nodded, clearly relieved. “Coffee,” he signed. Phil wondered if the caffeine might just make them both more jittery and nervous, but at least it would give them something to do. And the only other thing he could think about doing was basically leaping on Dan and claiming some of those promised kisses … and Dan didn’t look remotely ready for that right now.

They ended up playing several games of Mario Kart and Crash Bandicoot, letting their coffees go cold on the side table as they sat side-by-side on Phil’s sofa. Dan was a Mario Kart master, utterly destroying Phil every race and pretending no false modesty as he performed a shameless victory dance after every win. Phil pretended to pout about it, but really he was just happy to see Dan laughing and bouncing up and down. He was also pleased that Dan seemed to finally be making himself at home, running through the game menus himself instead of deferring to Phil like some kind of polite guest.

They slouched down on the sofa when they’d decided they’d had enough gaming, both relaxed and smiling. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and Phil just savored the presence of Dan in his flat. Finally. After all this time! Dan was actually here!

He turned his head to look at this boy, this young man he’d been longing for, dreaming of, for so long. Years of long-distance courting through DMs and texts and Skype calls. And somehow, for some reason, Dan had finally decided to fully trust him, had bought a ticket and gotten on a train and ridden for hours, had braved the wild subscribers of Manchester’s high street … all for Phil. He could feel his heart beating, feel his own pulse in his fingertips and in his throat and on his tongue and … Dan turned to meet his gaze. Phil held his breath. Then Dan’s eyes dropped to Phil’s lips, then back up to meet Phil’s eyes. Phil licked his lips, not trying to be seductive but just not wanting to have dry lips for their first kiss … because that’s what was about to happen, right? He could see the reciprocated longing on Dan’s face, the slight parting of his lips, the intensity in his gaze.

And then Dan looked away, running a hand through his fringe, trying to straighten it, then fluff it, all movements Phil had seen him make on Skype, but in this case Dan had no image of himself to look at, so it was obviously just nervous habit.

Phil wondered if Dan wanted him to take the lead. Maybe Dan was too nervous to initiate a kiss? But that didn’t feel right. It felt like if this was going to happen—and Phil was pretty darn certain it would happen eventually, even if it wasn’t today, even if it wasn’t this weekend at all—it needed to happen on Dan’s schedule. When Dan was ready.

When their lips first met, Dan would be the one to close that last tiny distance between them.

Dan stood up and prowled restlessly around the lounge, inspecting the movies, games, books, and knick-knacks on the various shelves, occasionally casting a nervous glance at Phil on the sofa. Eventually, he held up a DVD case for the horror film Cube and raised an eyebrow, eyes darting toward the tv then back at Phil. Phil shrugged and nodded, gesturing toward the DVD player in invitation. Dan put the disc in and hovered in front of the tv, using the remote to start the film. The subtitles started automatically with Phil’s default settings. Dan went to turn off the overhead lamp, which surprised Phil, since they’d talked about Dan’s fear of the dark. They’d also talked about his ironic preference for full immersion when he watched horror films, though, so maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising.

It definitely made the room feel more intimate, though.

And when Dan returned to the sofa, he sat a little closer to Phil this time.

In fact, their arms were touching slightly. Phil found himself painfully aware of the gooseflesh rising everywhere Dan’s skin innocently brushed his. He stared fixedly at the television screen, though he paid no attention to what he was actually watching. He’d seen the film before, of course, but right now his brain was a blank, all his senses attuned to the warm body so close beside him, so near after they’d been so far apart for so long. His hands begged to reach for Dan, but Phil twined his fingers together in his lap to control himself.

When he felt Dan’s eyes on him again, he turned his head. The flickering light from the telly made it difficult to read Dan’s expression, but the body language couldn’t have been clearer as Dan leaned slightly closer, then hesitated again. Wanting to help alleviate some of the built-up tension and awkwardness, Phil smiled softly and signed again, for the first time since the Starbucks, “I love you, Dan.” He wasn’t sure how well Dan would be able to see his hands in the dim lighting, but the change in Dan’s facial expression said it had been enough.

A moment later, Phil’s eyes closed as a soft mouth touched his, the barest brush at first, just a hint of contact, uncertain, questioning. Phil kept his lips pliant, parting them very slightly beneath Dan’s to show his interest without pressing for anything more. A warm hand reached up to cradle the side of his face, and Phil could feel a slight tremble in Dan’s fingers as he scooted closer to Phil on the sofa and leaned more fully into the kiss. Phil tilted his head slightly to improve the angle, and this aligned their mouths perfectly, Dan’s hand sliding up into Phil’s hair and a timid tongue darting quickly across the sensitive skin of his bottom lip.

Then Dan slid away again, and the brief kiss was over. Dan’s eyes watched him nervously from the distance he’d put between them until he eventually signed anxiously, “Was that okay?”

Phil closed his eyes again for a moment, just savoring the memory of that gentle intimacy, and then opened his eyes to gaze fondly at Dan as he signed, “The best.” In case Dan didn’t understand the sign, Phil raised a hand to press two fingers softly to his own lips and smiled, letting his eyes close again.

When he opened them, Dan was smiling too, glancing down shyly and then back up at Phil through his lashes. He licked his lips, probably unconsciously, and copied Phil’s sign. “The best,” Dan signed, and Phil knew a bewitching blush probably suffused that beautiful face undetected in the darkened lounge.

The film continued to play, ignored, a few feet away, but Phil just admired how its light emphasized the shadow of dimple in Dan’s cheek as they gazed at each other with a sort of blissful, tender joy he’d never experienced before in his entire life.

“I love you,” Dan signed quickly, and then he scooted close to cuddle against Phil’s side, nestling his head onto Phil’s shoulder so that his hair tickled Phil’s cheek, and they pretended to turn their attention back to watching the film, actually just breathing together and feeling closer than any two people had ever been.

Author’s Note: Feed your local fanfic author! Likes, comments, reblogs, reblogs with lovely tags ... go ahead, make my day!

[Continue to Chapter 6]

[lethesomething]

A writer tag thing

I was tagged by @tottwritesfanfic and it’s an excuse to talk about fanfic. Let's do this!

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

Uh. Um. Since I am an Old, this username has existed since forever, and acquiring it involved a goth themed IRC chat room and some virtual naked table dancing. The Lethe refers to the River of Oblivion in ancient Greek Underworld mythology, because again, I was Very Goth at the time. I'd… I'ma leave it at that.

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos).

That'll be Chocolate Hearts. It's not the one with the most hits, because it's not porn, but it's getting there, considering it was only posted in August. That whole fic was such an incredible experience, because I was getting daily feedback from people as I was writing publishing it.

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

It's Shimizu Kiyoko, because I still mostly write Haikyuu, and because she's awesome (and I, too, wish to be awesome).

Let’s put a cut here because this is Long.

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

I'd rather not name names, but I met at least one of my friends through AO3 comments. There's also a commenter whose style I liked so much that I started copying it for comments on other people's work. I absolutely notice when people drop by regularly, and I love every one of those people. I try to follow them back. There are few feelings more rewarding to me as a writer than seeing someone like one of my stories, and then go through the other ones I wrote for that fandom.

 5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

I don't regularly re-read fics, because I have enough trouble keeping up with fiction I feel like I *should* be reading. In that sense, the ones I keep going back to are the long ones I'm subscribed to. Bell, book and candle is my go-to plane fic for when I'm travelling, for instance. It's a 1k page pdf on my phone and I try to go back and comment on the chapters I finished when I get to a computer (or like three months later, most likely).

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

*Opens statistics page* I don't so much subscribe to stories, as I do to people. And I'm apparently subscribed to 22 people. I have 33 bookmarks, but that's mostly because sometimes I'll go back through my history and bookmarks stuff that I still like a few months later.

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

Urban fantasy. That seems to be the AU where my mind goes into every single direction and comes back with 60k worth of words every time. Also, a disproportionate amount of characters in my fics end up being bakers or baristas. So, uh, make of that what you will.

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

Um, I have 36 user subscriptions. 299 bookmarks. And 117 subscriptions to various fics.

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

Well, there's always stuff you come up with that maybe shouldn't be put to paper. When it comes to very self-indulgent, or very smutty, I try to stay my hand. I struggled a long time with whether or not I should publish any smut at all, because I don't want like… my colleagues to find it. What I ended up with, was several fail safes, and the promise to myself that I would only write… acceptable smut (so no werewolf orgies for you! not that I, uh, would write them otherwise).

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

So, uh, the very specific reason I started writing smut at all, was because that is the hardest thing to do. For me. Sex is, a lot of the time, awkward and funny and feely and there's a lot of emotions and actions going on, and I very specifically do not want to write lifeless mechanical porn sex. Because that's not what I'm here for. But that's difficult. I write to have the kind of stuff I want to Read, and I'm very friggin picky when it comes to smut, so it takes me longer to write 1k of smut than it does to write 20k of teen rated fluff. I wish I was better on that front.

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

It's a mixed bag. I'm pretty sure me and @leeva-art  are the pioneers of all ShinToko content. And I did that whole SugaTen one. Looking through the list, I actually did a fair amount of rarepair shorts. I kinda like writing rarepairs because there's a lot more of the dynamic for me to explore.  But I'm currently writing a series full of popular ships (YamaYachi, DaiSuga, KageHina, IwaOi), because sometimes, those are popular for a reason. To be honest, I think the ship I write most is 'x reader', and I'm fairly certain that's an under-reported popular ship.

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

I have 21 works on AO3 in total. All of those are finished one-shots or multichapters, except the one I'm currently working on. Yes, I'm proud of this :P.

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

Oh god. So apart from the current multichapter one I have… one longish romance story that's been gathering dust for two years (The Aomine. I swear I will finish it one day), and… about four smut shorts in various states of unfinished-ness. And an Aizawa short that is like smut in the sense that it's a lot of action and feels and I'm Struggling.

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

I do both. I'm a bit of a daydreamer, so I like to play ideas and scenarios in my head for a while, and then I jot them down when they've grown enough. But I'm also a talker, and anyone who has chatted with me for any length of time probably knows that an Idea can take root in a convo and I basically talk it out and two months later there's a massive fic brewing. My brain is an overexcited puppy.

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

Nope. It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not sure how that would work practically.

16. How did you discover AO3?

It's all Rin's fault. I pretty much only got into fanfic after watching Free! and discovering the joys of tumblr. Fairly certain I discovered AO3 while looking for Quality SouRin.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

Ahahahaha…no.

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

That would be weird? I'm not Lady Gaga.

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

I've been writing since I was a little girl. So the first stories I wrote were probably inspired by that one teacher I had when I was eight, that kept saying I was good at this. But I remember in my teens, wanting to write like Anthony Horowitz, and later like Terry Prattchett, or Douglas Adams. As for writing fanfic, that is the fault of Aleramicci and A Shadow so Great. That was the first time I saw someone take that level of world building and lore creation and character development, and spin it into this… epic tale. Because I have always imagined scenarios and characters in my day dreams, I was creating alternate endings for the Three Musketeers at 13, but I didn't think anyone else was willing to read them. I thought fanfic was, well, smut. And she showed me that you can create worlds out of nearly nothing (please remember that 2014 League of Legends Lore was total shit), and do it Well, and write it well, and… ugh.

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

Ok, where's that meme. I think the main thing is… just do it. You've got stories, you write them. But know that it is work. Like every hobby, it takes time, it takes energy and effort. You need to Make that Time. Very few people can sit down and just have the words flow out of their fingers. For most, it's Work. Once you know that, and you make the conscious decision to do the work, you can get shit done.

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

I try to plot up to a certain level but I leave room for a lot of improv. Like especially for longer fics, I'll have a vague idea of where the characters end up and what needs to happen for the finale to… happen. The actual scenes aren't plotted though. I write better when I just let the scene take me where it wants to go. I've learned a lot from the Lock, the Key and the Sacrifice, in that it was my first Very Long multichaptered fic and it was Mostly Improvised. This meant that some character development got lost, and that I had to write myself out of some weird situations but also, some of the best scenes in that fic are complete bursts of random inspiration. Since then, I've gotten a bit more organized. I use OneNote to jot down 'spur of the moment' scenes to slot into stories later, and to make time lines and character profiles and all that. The actual fic is still me opening the Word doc and going 'ok, it's day six in this story, what should happen today'.

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

I don't think so? AO3 readers are very nice and disciplined, I think. Either that or I've been very lucky. All I've gotten were a few comments that left me flustered, mostly along the lines of 'when are you updating', when I keep a very tight schedule. That sort of thing. I just leave those be.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

See above: smut.

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

Currently, My Girlfriend is a Goddess?!, which is a fantasy exchange gift that ballooned into a very long, multichapter and possibly trilogy book type thing.

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

The Plan is to finish book one of My Girlfriend is a Goddess?! (the YamaYachi, aka the actual exchange gift), then take a break for some one-shots and whatnot, and then continue to book two (the DaiSuga one). So yes, I do try to stay somewhat disciplined. This isn't to say that inspiration can't strike like a vengeful god and I have to rearrange the whole thing. Chocolate Hearts happened while I was trying to work on the TenSuga, and it got written in like a month of furious typing. Shit just happens, man.

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

No. I have a very unstable work schedule, and sometimes I'm just tired. I try to get certain chapters finished on a weekly basis though. I learned with NaNo that when I try to write too much in one go, the output is also not that great. I need to write, and then do a whole bunch of editing, and then write again.

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

Things are certainly going smoother now than they did two years ago. It's a certain… confidence? I think? A rhythm you get into. I got wordier, too. Not sure if that's a good thing.

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

This is hard. That is a hard question. For the longest time, my fave story was Balance. But if I read it now, it does show its age. So I'm going to say The lock, the key and the sacrifice. I will always be super proud of that, because that's my first and currently only 'book' and I worked a year and a half on it. Not every part of it is amazing, but there's some Pretty Good Parts and I just felt such an immense relief and… satisfaction on finishing it.

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

One of the first things I published was an Iwaizumi smut short. It's… ok, but it has some issues that I would iron out if I were to write it again.

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

When I was little I had this Plan to write a bestseller and sell it to Hollywood and then buy a castle in Scotland and basically be JK Rowling, but I sincerely doubt that's going to happen. Goals, tho.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

Coming up with random shit that blossoms into big, huge ideas and worlds and complicated plot lines. Like… that happens without me trying.

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

The bit where you sit down to write through a part you've been struggling with. Those few paragraphs that you need to connect scene A and scene B, for it to make logical sense.

33. Why do you write?

Because I like it. Because I enjoy building worlds and scenes and characters, and sharing them. Because like all kinds of creative work, it has gained me relationships and connections to people I resonate with. Also, ngl, for the kudos and the comments. I get a lot of joy from seeing people enjoying my work.

 The tagging part. Um, I dunno if @skittidyne has done this one yet.  Also the usual suspects: @bsinoranges, @haruhi02 and @thekuroiookami   Consider it a subtle nudge if anyone else wants to do this.

[ponypositivity]

@ This one anon who asked how to make moodboard due to their lack of notes on their posts your ask got eaten sadly !! But I am posting it here as an answer!

It is a long one so I am putting a Read More. I hope this help in some way other mods feel free to add on if you wish!

Its not rude at all!  Im going into a lot of depth with this so im putting a read more. If other mods want to add on feel free to!

i personally try to color coordinate my moodboards ! Meaning I try to find very similar colors that match the character along with certain objects, scenery, features (hair, clothes, eye color, etc), and/or quotes that fit the character!

For recent example: When asked to make a trixie moodboard I first find a picture of trixie that I like. I usually search in google: “[character name]” , “[character name] screencap”, “[character name] screenshot], or “[character name] vector”

So putting that into context, in google I would search: “trixie lulamoon”, “trixie mlp” , “trixie screencap”, “trixie screenshot” , “trixie vector”

Once I find the image I like I usually crop it to fit into a 300x300 image and make sure all the other images are that same height & width. I use “Preview” on Macbook laptops. You can use Photoshop to do this or search on google a 300x300 image and copy the image you want and past it onto the google image. That way it will be that size.

For the other images I once again search on tumblr or on pinterest. I use key words like: “pastel blue”, “purple witch”, “pastel tarot cards”, etc. Once I find the image I save it and once again size that image. Occasionally I do edit the colors of the images to fit the color scheme better. I do that using Preview and under “Tools” I go to the “Adjust Color” option and mess around with the different options like shadows, lightness + darkness, etc. till I am satisfied with the result.

If you want to add personal text or even have a specific color background or fine colors you want to use I suggest using this website.  Here I make many of the images that have quotes or sayings on them. I use the eyedropper tool to find colors that I want for the words & background.

When it comes to tag I dont use specific tags except for ones on this blog. I do suggest tagging with things that relate to the image. Example with the trixie moodboard I would of tagged it was: “mlp”, “trixie”, “moodboard”, “trixie lulamoon”, “aesthetic”.

Tags very from who makes what. Some people tag it as “my edit” or other types of stuff.

As for notes sometimes its all about timing and luck. Sometimes a popular blog can reblog the image and it get more notes or a new episode of something comes out and people see the moodboard and then more notes happen. But its just hard to tell.

No matter how many notes you get moodboards are fun to do and should be an enjoyable thing! I love making them because it oddly calms me because I love color coordinating things and seeing the final product! So have lots of fun! I hope this helps in some way !

-Mod Luna

[frankensteined]

RULES: 1. Answer the new questions given by the previous person 2. Write 11 new questions 3. Tag 11 people

tagged by @sharkodactyl AND @shkodrans like two days ago but i suck at memes so here we are

NATALIE’S QUESTIONS:

1. if you had the ability to control your dreams, what would you dream about?

i would literally just hang out with my favourite fictional characters all the time. “you know what would make this thing better? me.” 

2. what’s your favorite myth or fairy tale?

the lady of shalott doesn’t really count, cuz the whole plot of it is from a ballad poem thing, but it’s based off of an arthurian legend, so i’m taking it. gal wants friends, goes outside, becomes the center of attention and dies? #relatable. 

3. what’s a song you love right now?

i. don’t know?? i’ve just been listening to instrumental soundtracks lately! i need song recommendations!

4. if you could suddenly gain the ability to EITHER bake breads & pastries perfectly OR be able to dance with perfect rhythm, which would you choose?

baking perfectly, because terrible dancing while baking is endearing, while terrible baking while dancing is weird and frowned upon. also: pastries.

5. what’s your favorite painting?

HA. since i already brought her up, any of waterhouse’s lady of shalott paintings! good theme for today: “i am half-sick of shadows”

6. if you were a pokemon trainer, what would your team be? if you don’t know anything about pokemon, make up six pokemon you would want. no, you can’t pick pikachu, put some effort in

oh no oh no limiting myself to 6…do i do a team of I Love Them, Forget Team Balance or a team of Destroy Everything???

okay whatever i’ll just go with ones that i’d wanna travel with places:

flareon

skiddo (eventually GOGOAT. stop me from nicknaming her “go-go the gogoat”)

altaria 

houndoom

dwebble 

spheal

BUT i’m waffling on the dwebble due to my fondness for nidoran♀ and alolan rattata. but look at dwebble! 

7. do you wear socks when you go to sleep?

only sometimes in winter, because Canada is Cold. but even then i usually kick them off in my sleep because, subconsciously, i hate it. 

8. how fast a walker are you?

according to people, i am a speedy walker, but that’s because my legs are short and i’ve got something to prove. and that thing is: out of my way, tall people.

9. what is your next meal going to be?

lunch-supper hybrid maybe? or maybe just a smoothie so i can skip the chewing part of eating. 

10. what’s your favorite part of your own blog?

the part where 90% of any post is in the tags because i can never shut up in them ever

11. if you could suddenly create – without having to sit down and write/draw/etc. – one beautiful piece of fanwork (fic, art, etc.), what would it be?

“adventures in offscreensville”, that joke!au where all the characters and plots that ob has absolutely dropped without mention over the years have come together into one neighbourhood to live out the rest of their lives. it’s the real place that helena went off to for most of s4 (she was staying with mark and gracie). it’s where vic bumped into tony and tony winked at him when he did a double take. it’s where angie is off investigating the murder of amelia. shay’s got a holistic something or other business there. 

jason kellerman is not there.

it’s a good au. 

JAMES’ QUESTIONS:

1. what’s ur favorite meme

i’m a sucker for the good ol’ fashioned “applicable text post photoshopped over appropriate picture of fictional character” meme. that’s a good time every time.

2. what show/movie/album are u most looking forward to this year, you can answer all three of these things or just two or only just one whichever u prefer

i’d say “literally only orphan black”, but i’m also looking forward to wynonna earp’s return too, but ob is still #1 for me always

3. what conspiracy theory are u most intrigued by

THIS ONE because i googled “conspiracy theories” and this was right at the top of the page and it’s amazing. 

4. are you drinking enough water today? i only ask bc i care

…okay….no, BUT. i will. and i did yesterday! so. soon??

5. what is ur go-to song to play loudly and scream along to as a form of catharsis

…the first thing to pop into my head was “you stupid bitch” from crazy ex-girlfriend, but i do not regularly jam out to self loathing power ballads, i promise. 

6. when the aliens finally reach out to us (provided they’re the friendly sort) and the world needs to assemble a group of people to represent the best of humanity and it was somehow up to you to choose this group, who would you choose, i promise in this fictional scenario the aliens will not kill any of these people

dwayne “the rock” johnson, mark hamill, lupita nyong’o, lin manuel miranda, cher, laverne cox, george takei, and amal clooney 

also andy samberg, cuz i wanna see the brooklyn nine-nine episode about this

7. what is ur dream cast of actors in whichever type of film you want? you also have access to a time machine so you could, say, have 80′s harrison ford with modern day folk, if that’s what you want. or if a certain actor is just dead present day bc sometimes it be like that

i can’t personally think of anyone, but i’d bring gene kelly back for my best friend’s sake. and then i’d let her cast the rest of this movie, too, cuz it’d be all her own show after he showed up. 

8. i can’t think of eleven questions but you did great answering the rest of these, good job

thank u friend thank u :’)

OKAY NOW MY QUESTIONS FOR PEOPLE:

you get to ride one animal into battle, regardless of size or where it lives. what animal do you choose?

if you could be historically infamous for one thing what would it be?

what is your favourite curse word?

what's your favourite cryptid?

what's scarier: clowns or ventriloquist dummies?

what's the one tv show or movie from your childhood that you think best shaped you? (doesn't need to necessarily have been something made for kids! just the one that you look back on and can go "ah. yeah, that's where that trait/interest/aesthetic came from")

if you could be drawn in any popular cartoon style, which style would you pick?

do you love the colour of the sky is there a popular tumblr post that you just can’t stand?

forget the zombie apocalypse: if you could pick a fictional character to escape a haunted house with, who would you choose?

what is the one ridiculous rom-com cliche that you secretly (or not-so secretly) would be down for happening to you?

what is the one type of food or specific dish that you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t yet?

tagging: @gwendolinechristie, @bhavvyyy, @epiphanygreaves @batsonthebrain, @andocado, @willwriteforruns, @mercurygray, @milkteaaa, @labratslabcoat, @professionaltimetraveler, @wanderingdame

and anyone else who might want to answer!

[trigger-happy-psycho-blog]

HELP PLEASE

I put this under as many tags that have to do with mental illness as possible so that I may have the highest probability of finding/attracting someone who can help me get an idea of what is wrong with me. Let me just start by saying I absolutely hate self-diagnoses. Unfortunately, asking my parents to take my to a mental health professional is out of the picture (my dad wouldn't take me seriously/treat me like an animal, my mom would pretend she could take care of it/not care.) So I'm turning to the therapists/psychologists/psychiatrists of tumblr to help AT LEAST give a ballpark of what I might have because this has bothered me all my life to the point where I can't stop thinking about it ever. And hey, maybe I'm just neurotypical, which would be freaking AWESOME. But I can't help thinking that I'm a freak or something until I get assurance from someone who knows what they are doing. So here are some things about me that may help: - I'm kinda unemotional. I mean I have emotions but I basically don't show them. - I'm very socially awkward. I was selectively mute until I was 12 or 13 and I am still very shy. Even when I do talk to people, my speech is weird (unless I know them really well.) - I often have obsessions with different subjects. Like for a while it was ferrets, then it was personality types, random theories, etc. Mental illness is the biggest one though. Also, when I start on something, I don't stop until I'm done. It's like tunnel vision. - I have this weird thing where I always need to know the time even when I like JUST checked the time I still need to check it for some weird reason it's kind of annoying. - I get intrusive thoughts like all the time. - I get like weird feelings that make me tense up and make weird faces. Like I HAVE too move my face/body part in a certain way to get rid of it. It makes me make weird faces and stuff - I have trouble making friends. Everyone thinks I'm weird and I've had like.... 4 friends in the past 15 years. - I HARDCORE believe in dragons. No sarcasm. I'm starting to doubt it but a few years ago I was 100% sure they were real and everyone was stupid for thinking they were fake. I also believe that demons can speak through my mother and that I am LITERALLY cursed with having no friends. The thing is, I KNOW these are weird things to belive and I STILL believe them.... - I pick the skin around my fingers EXCESSIVELY. - I often feel as if people are talking about me or laughing at me or just dont like me in general even if there is literally no reason at all for me to believe so. - I'm very smart. As a freshman, I took Calculus. That's just an example. - Sometimes this thing happens where I start thinking and it's like a train is going through my train and I can't stop it and it feels like I'm drowning in thoughts and I can't breathe or see or stand and I start shaking it's horrible but addictive. - I get these days where I just feel like my whole being is a weight and I don't want to do anything. - I've cut myself before. The weird thing? I didn't it because I found it fun and I liked the blood. I felt the pain but like there was more comfort in it than anything else. - I have panic attacks/Anxiety attacks. - I'm uncoordinated. - I'm VERY conscious about my surroundings and stuff. - Sometimes I just... shut down. Like. I'll just stop doing everything and I'll jusr stand there. For no reason. Like I will forget how to move and speak. - Sometimes I hear my name when no one is calling me and I'll see shadows out of the corner of my eye??? And sometimes things will appear darker than they were like a moment before. - I'm not lazy. I'm pretty hard working actually. But I'm not exactly organized lol. - There are words/things HATE using/HAVE to use in writing for no reason. Like I have to use "probability" instead of "chance." I had to use quotations around both of those words. Etc. - I LOVE routine. This post is an example. Every bullet point has to have "-" and then a space and the first word has to be capitalized. In the car, I always have to sit on the middle seat in the back. If I leave at 3:00 the first day, I will have to leave at 3:00 p.m. the next day. If I accidentally leave earlier, I will go back until 3:00 p.m. and then leave. Etc. - I am TERRIFIED of the dark. I have very vivid nightmares. - I'm able to predict some things that happen through dreams sometimes and sometimes I'm able to like predict what song will be next on the radio. This is not just a coincidence like it's happened SEVERAL times on accident. That's all I can think of for now. Feel free to ask questions or to ask me to elaborate. Also, please repost if you can think of other tags that can attract people. This is a VERY distressing matter to me. You have NO idea. This like took over my life and I'm trying to get it back. Thank you so much if you read the whole thing. ~Lex~