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supi-wupi · 1 month ago

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Babysitters - OT13

members: OT13, joshua is dating reader tho synopsis: 13 men. 1 (slightly injured) Nie. And no supervision. After a minor injury, you’re stuck at home on doctor’s orders. The members take turns “taking care of you” — but each one has a wildly different idea of what that means. Chaos (and cuddles) ensue. wc: 2.5k genre: fluff, comedy warnings: none <3 a/n: some fluff before i put out my angst fic i’ve been working on…

PROLOGUE

It started with one clumsy step and a triumphant, “I bet I can carry all the groceries in one trip!” It ended with a twisted ankle, three bruised egos (Jeonghan definitely laughed first), and doctor’s orders to stay home for a week.

You’d expected Joshua to take care of you — boyfriend privileges and all. But with SEVENTEEN on a semi-break before their comeback and Joshua insisting “You deserve rest, and I deserve revenge for that ‘falling mid falsetto’ comment,” the boys proposed a rotation system.

You agreed. You were wrong.

—

DAY ONE: The Incident It was a simple slip on the wet kitchen tiles. Nothing dramatic. No cinematic slow-motion fall. Just you, a mug of hot cocoa, gravity, and betrayal. The result? A sprained ankle and strict doctor’s orders: “No weight-bearing activities for two weeks.”

You hadn’t even texted the SEVENTEEN group chat before Joshua burst through the door with wide eyes and a plastic bag of your favorite snacks.

“Nie,” he said, scandalized. “You’re not allowed to get injured. That’s my thing.”

“Pretty sure it’s Jeonghan’s thing.”

“Exactly. This is throwing off the group dynamic.”

You were about to tell him he was being dramatic when he kissed your forehead, tucked a blanket around you like you were a human burrito, and whispered, “The others will be here soon.”

You blinked. “The what now?”

—

Case File 01: S.COUPS (Code Name: Commander Dad)

Objective: Establish order, ensure safety. Possibly overcorrect. Notes:

Y/N is not to move. At all.

Any and all movement must be approved by me or God.

Installed three baby gates. Unsure if necessary but effective deterrent.

Hid their phone to prevent “sneaky” late-night scrolling. (They found it in 12 minutes.)

Made them soup. No one mention I used too much garlic. We’re all fine.

—

“You’re treating me like I’m three years old,” you protested as Seungcheol carefully adjusted a cushion behind your back.

“Three-year-olds aren’t this stubborn,” he muttered, tucking the blanket around your feet again.

“You’re doing the blanket tuck for the third time.”

“Because you keep kicking it off like a rebellious teen. I saw your foot twitch.”

“...It was itchy.”

He sighed, lovingly exasperated, and handed you a spoon. “Eat your garlic bomb soup.”

—

Case File 02: JEONGHAN (Code Name: Chaos Nurse)

Objective: Provide emotional support (and chaos). Notes:

Told Y/N I’d take care of them. Immediately spilled juice on their shirt.

Brought tarot cards. “To spiritually cleanse your ankle.”

Replaced pain meds with jelly beans as a prank. Got scolded. Worth it.

Said, “Pain is temporary, being babied by thirteen men is forever.” May have accidentally started a war over who gets the next turn.

—

Jeonghan arrived with a velvet pouch and too much enthusiasm.

“We’re doing tarot.”

“I don’t need spiritual guidance,” you said. “I need an ice pack.”

“This is spiritual guidance,” he insisted, dramatically laying down a card. “The Fool. That’s you. For thinking you could walk unsupervised.”

You threw a pillow at him.

He caught it, placed it behind your head, and winked. “See? Still helping.”

—

Case File 03: JOSHUA (Code Name: Shuji, Ult Boyfriend, Certified Overthinker)

Objective: Provide attentive, balanced care. (Also low-key compete with the others for “Best Caregiver 2025.”) Notes:

Made a color-coded care schedule. Gave everyone laminated copies.

Y/N said “You’re being extra.” I said “You used to call this thoughtful.”

Played soft guitar songs to lull them to sleep. It worked. I cried.

Almost kissed their ankle better. Stopped. Questionable boundaries.

Jeonghan says I’m “doing the most.” He’s not wrong. I just love Nie.

—

Joshua tiptoed into the room with a tray of cut fruit shaped like stars and hearts.

“Breakfast in bed,” he said, placing it gently on your lap.

“Joshua,” you deadpanned. “You carved that apple into a rose.”

He sat beside you, beaming. “You deserve beauty even when you’re cranky.”

You stared at him. “Are you trying to win a boyfriend award?”

“Is it working?”

...Yeah. Kinda.

—

Case File 04: HOSHI (Code Name: 10:10, Tiger Carer Supreme)

Objective: Keep spirits up! Distract from pain using performance! Notes:

Performed a one-man musical titled “The Ankle Who Lived.”

Included backup dancers (DK and Dino). They didn’t agree to this.

Made a healing chant. Was told to “sit down” after two verses.

Reenacted “Romeo and Juliet” with sock puppets. Called it “Toe-meo and Ankle-et.”

Y/N smiled. Mission success.

—

You blinked as Hoshi burst into the room in a cape made of bath towels.

“Presenting: The Legend of the Brave Ankle!”

You covered your face. “Soonyoung, I will throw this pillow at you.”

“No one silences art!” he cried, launching into a song about ligaments.

By the time he finished, you were laughing so hard it hurt.

Worth it.

—

Case File 05: MINGYU (Code Name: Golden Retriever in a Lab Coat)

Objective: Cook. Clean. Care. (Try not to cry if Y/N calls me ‘sweet.’) Notes:

Made four different meals. Burnt the toast. Panicked. Apologized five times.

Did laundry. Folded their socks into perfect balls. Felt proud.

Almost cried when Y/N said “thank you” and patted my head.

Accidentally knocked over their crutches. Panicked again.

Tried to knit them a scarf. It turned into a pot holder. Still gave it to them.

—

Mingyu nervously peeked into the room. “Hey, I made soup… and also lasagna… and also gimbap… I didn’t know what you’d want.”

You blinked. “Gyu, are you stress-cooking again?”

He set the plates down sheepishly. “Nooo. Maybe. A little. I just want to be useful.”

You tugged on his sleeve. “You’re literally the most useful.”

He beamed so hard you were afraid his dimples would break the space-time continuum.

—

Case File 06: WOOZI (Code Name: Jihoon, Ankle Security Analyst)

Objective: Monitor Y/N’s recovery through sound-based methods. (Also protect their ears from Hoshi’s musicals.) Notes:

Created a playlist of healing frequencies and lo-fi beats.

Banned clumsy members from approaching the ankle within a 1-meter radius.

Accidentally made a sad ballad titled “Ligament Lament.” It slaps.

Y/N cried. I panicked. We’re okay now.

I’m not babysitting. I’m health-auditing. There’s a difference.

—

You were listening to one of Woozi’s playlists when he walked in holding a tablet.

“I’ve made adjustments to the sonic environment of your room.”

“…You mean you turned the bass down?”

“It’s optimized for tissue recovery,” he deadpanned.

“…You just didn’t want me to hear Hoshi’s toe-based musical again.”

He didn’t respond. But you saw the smallest smile twitch at the corner of his mouth.

—-

Case File 07: DK (Code Name: Dokyeom, Certified Sunshine™)

Objective: Infuse vitamin DK into recovery plan. Make Y/N laugh at all costs. Notes:

Sang every time I entered a room. Including “Hello.”

Brought my karaoke mic. Held mini concert. Setlist: “Can You Feel the Ankle Tonight.”

Made Y/N laugh-snort juice through nose. 10/10 victory.

Got too into character pretending to be a nurse. Gave myself a name badge: “Dr. Smile.”

Accidentally wore two different socks. Claimed it was “an ankle sympathy statement.”

—

DK poked his head in with a glittery mic. “Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior: healing?”

You groaned. “If you sing one more pun about ligaments—”

“🎵 LIGAMENT ME LOVE YOUUU 🎵” “SEOKMIN.”

You couldn’t help laughing, even as you flung a pillow at him. He caught it. Bowed. Took a dramatic exit. He came back five minutes later with a full lightstick setup. You gave up.

—

Case File 08: SEUNGKWAN (Code Name: Diva Caretaker, Chaos Concierge)

Objective: Keep Y/N emotionally regulated. Monitor hydration. Judge everyone else’s methods. Notes:

Took away their phone for 20 minutes so they’d nap. Y/N called me a tyrant.

Replied “You're welcome” when they said “You're annoying.”

Made them rate my babysitting on a scale of 1 to 17. Got a 15. Fuming.

Threatened to revoke my services unless I got a perfect score.

Y/N raised it to 16.8. Victory.

—

“Drink water,” Seungkwan ordered, placing a bottle on your chest.

You squinted. “You’re not the hydration police.”

“I am when you’re convalescing with the enthusiasm of a wilting fern.”

“Stop using SAT words on me.”

“You’re the one who said I was ‘overqualified to babysit.’”

You held the water like a white flag. “…Only because you’re secretly my mom.”

“Thank you. Now drink.”

You did. Begrudgingly.

—

Case File 09: VERNON (Code Name: Vernon, Ankle Philosopher)

Objective: Provide chill environment. Reflect on pain as a temporary construct. Notes:

Said “That sucks” when I heard what happened. Profound.

Brought snacks, all beige. Beige foods are comforting.

Played video games next to them. Said it’s “healing adjacent.”

Forgot their injury for 2 hours. Y/N had to remind me. Felt bad. Got them ice cream.

Said “Pain is part of the human condition.” They threw a grape at me. Fair.

—

Vernon slouched in a beanbag next to you. “Want to watch a documentary on time perception?”

“…What happened to cartoons?”

“I figured we could reflect on the impermanence of pain.”

“…Hansol.”

“Yes?”

“I have a sprained ankle. Not a midlife crisis.”

He nodded, completely unbothered. “Still applies.”

—

Case File 10: JUN (Code Name: Junhui, Caretaker of Vibes)

Objective: Provide holistic ankle healing through mystery, magic, and mild confusion. Notes:

Brought incense. Told Y/N it was ankle cleansing smoke.

Said I summoned the “Spirit of Bounce” for ligament flexibility. They told me to go home.

Slid in wearing a silk robe. Said it was for the “ritual.”

Fed them fruit by hand. Called each piece a “health gem.”

Y/N didn’t stop me. Possibly enjoying this.

—

Jun glided into the room, humming a nonsensical melody.

“Behold. The Ceremony of Recovery begins.”

You blinked at the bowl of grapes he held.

“…You just want to hand-feed me again.”

“I’m helping your healing energy flow. It’s very advanced.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even massaging my foot.”

“That’s phase four. We’re in phase two: fruit fusion.”

You popped a grape in your mouth. “Carry on.”

—

Case File 11: THE8 (Code Name: Minghao, Zen Guardian of Rest)

Objective: Maintain peace. No one disturbs Y/N unless spiritually justified. Notes:

Set up a meditation zone around the couch. Used salt lamps. Y/N approved.

Made tea. Wouldn’t let them drink it until they’d done 3 deep breaths.

Gave them a sketchbook. Said art helps pain leave the body.

Threatened to exile anyone who brought loud snacks. (Looking at you, Seungkwan.)

Whispered “Rest is sacred” before every nap. They started whispering it back.

—

You stretched on the couch under the softest blanket you’d ever felt.

Minghao approached, wordlessly handing you a warm mug of tea.

“Is it chamomile?” you asked.

“It’s balance,” he said, completely serious.

“…You made that up.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he placed a small sketchpad in your lap.

“Draw your feelings. And if you draw Seungkwan yelling, I won’t stop you.”

—

Case File 12: DINO (Code Name: Maknae on Babysitting Duty)

Objective: Prove responsibility. No injuries under my watch. Keep things cool. Chill. But Responsible. Notes:

Arrived with a clipboard. Felt powerful.

Told them I was “Head Babysitter.” They laughed. Slightly offended.

Played calm board games. Avoided Monopoly. Not safe.

Made a healing dance. Showed them. Got embarrassed. They clapped. Felt better.

Might’ve called my mom for babysitting tips. Confidential.

—

Dino plopped onto the armchair across from you, clipboard in hand.

“I have logged your water intake and screen time. You're doing great.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Chan… are you tracking me like a baby Sims character?”

“I’m just being thorough,” he said, proud. “Also… did you like the dance I showed you?”

“It was cute.”

He turned red. “I was going for cool.”

“Cute is cool.”

He looked away, smiling into his clipboard.

—

Case File 13: WONWOO (Code Name: Enigmatic Reader, Silent Protector)

Objective: Provide calm, bookish presence. Protect Y/N’s peace. Say little. Do much. Notes:

Brought three books: one for them, one for me, one “just in case.”

Sat beside them reading for two hours. Neither of us spoke. 10/10 hangout.

Made them tea. Didn’t ask if they wanted it. Knew.

Helped set up ankle pillow fortress without a word. Y/N said “thank you,” I said “mm.”

Y/N said I’m the “most relaxing babysitter.” Noted.

Didn’t realize they fell asleep leaning on me. Stayed still for 40 minutes. Didn’t mind.

—

When you opened your eyes, Wonwoo was exactly where you left him — beside you, book in hand, glasses perched on his nose, your head resting on his shoulder.

You blinked blearily. “How long was I out?”

“About forty minutes.” “You could’ve moved me, you know.” “You looked comfortable.” “…You’re really good at this.”

He glanced at you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Joshua said to take care of you. So I did.”

—

Case File 14: JOSHUA (Code Name: Shuji, Original Penpal, The Boyfriend™)

Objective: Leave Y/N alone for one week so they can rest. Enlist the members to help. Regret everything immediately.

Post-Mission Debrief:

Initial plan: Assign one member per day. Easy. Simple. Low-maintenance.

Reality:

Soonyoung tried to bubble wrap their entire apartment.

Jeonghan tricked them into taking medicine with a Bet You Can’t challenge.

Seungcheol turned it into an intensive recovery boot camp.

Jihoon brought a decibel meter.

Seungkwan accused someone of poisoning Y/N with over-seasoned soup.

Dino somehow… choreographed a “healing dance”?

Jun… who told Jun he was allowed to build a pillow kingdom and declare himself ruler?

The8 may or may not have reset their chi by smacking their knee with flower petals.

Vernon tried to explain Renaissance-era injury recovery theories??

Mingyu cooked a seven-course meal, shattered a plate, then cried.

Dokyeom sang to them like they were dying.

Wonwoo said six words all day. One of them was “tea.”

Conclusion: Y/N was cared for, coddled, fed, emotionally damaged, spiritually blessed, and possibly mildly concussed from the Dino “Trust Fall of Healing.”

Would I do this again? Absolutely not.

Did they look like the happiest human in the world when I picked them up and they handed me a folder titled “Seventeen’s Babysitting Adventures: Please Publish Posthumously”? Yes.

…Worth it.

—

You were curled up on the couch, blanket tucked around your legs, when Joshua finally sat beside you, a smug smile on his face as he slid a binder onto the table.

“Is this… a mission report?” you asked, eyeing the sticker-covered folder labeled ‘CASE FILE 17: COMPLETE’.

“Every operation needs closure,” he said with faux seriousness. “Also, Seungkwan tried to submit a formal complaint about Vernon’s healing playlist. This needed documenting.”

You flipped through pages filled with member notes, post-it stickers, and doodles. “Wonwoo literally just wrote ‘tea.’ That’s his whole entry.”

Joshua laughed. “Yeah, and it was the most effective one.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for mobilizing an entire group to take care of me. That’s probably not in your job description.”

He tilted his head down to kiss your temple. “You’ve taken care of me for twenty years, Nie. One week of chaos was the least I could offer.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “Next time, though…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe just… fewer flower petals. And less yelling. And no more anatomy lectures from Vernon.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

—

Epilogue Note (Handwritten by Joshua): If you’re reading this, Y/N has officially survived Operation: Babysit the Love of My Life. If they’re still alive, they deserve a prize. If they’re not, check under the couch — Mingyu probably dropped a lasagna tray.

Mission Success. Penpal safe. Heart full. End report.

masterlist ♪

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rei-ismyname · 7 months ago

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Yung Chuck goes for a stroll

Re-reading HoxPoX every so often is good for the soul. It's so beautiful. It's also fun to see this bozo find out how naive he is, though to his credit he learns a lesson from that (wildly overcorrecting.)

Love ya, Chuckles.

#x comics #house of x #charles xavier #hoxpox #x men #marvel #comics #krakoa #professor x #jonathan hickman #rb silva #pepe larraz #marte gracia

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glitterdustcyclops · 9 months ago

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i think those posts pointing out the unrealistic nature of the common rhetorical devices in modern fiction are hopelessly cinemasins pilled losers but also are reacting to a somewhat valid critique and doing the thing the internet does where it sands off all nuance in favor of easy dunkings

phrased like "his eyes darkened" or "he smelled of mountain air and sin" certainly could be annoying if they are overused or used incorrectly or not being used to actually communicate something valuable to the work and its themes. there *is* a lot of amateur prose out there (romantasy i'm looking directly at you) where authors have learned that "These are the things Good, Deep, Literary Writers use, so i'm going to use them too" without thinking about why those writers might be using such devices, and what effect they might be trying to achieve apart from "Sounds Deep" and that can absolutely lead to some buckwild incomprehensible tedious purple nonsense

but just because a tool can be used to annoying effect by amateurs does not mean the tool itself is inherently flawed, and the important point is not to wildly overcorrect into this idea that all prose must be logically structured and indefensible, written like a twitter thread being read by the most bad faith audience imaginable, because that writing style fucking sucks

#shut up chocolate #writer problems #also taste is unfortunately subjective #one man's florid ultraviolet nonsense is another man's delicious trash pile #different strokes and all that

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wowlooknothing · 1 month ago

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I'm always sad that people don't talk much about tactical breach wizards so I decided I'm just gonna share all my bullshit in the hopes that someone else cares so anyway here's my rion head cannons that vary wildly in depth and seriousness.

He's allergic to chocolate (as a dog and as a human)

Contrary to that he's only color blind as a dog (bc I think it fits to make it so he can literally only see red when he's human (((and I like to think it's possible that the first time he ever saw the color red it was from his owners blood))))

His music taste is all girl pop like Chappell Roan and shit (this is also most of Jens music taste and she's BAFFLED when she finds this out)

He unlocked probably like 10ish years before the game takes place, most of that time he was working pretty closely with the druid mafia

Post cannon he actually keeps kind of in touch with banks but absolutely ghosts everyone else

He's gay and aromantic (but I don't think he knows what aromantic means or really gives a shit he thinks thats how everyone is)

He's had that collar since before he unlocked and by this point it would def be a vessel, but also he wouldn't ever give it to someone else so it's just kinda useless (also considering his craft is just to turn into a human, I have no idea what his vessel would do if he ever did give it away)

All of his outfits except for the default one and the wiztac one simply Are Not Cannon. He would NOT fucking wear that.

He knows how to do a bunch of ritual magic (like glyphs and shit) that he learned from the druids (and I think that the druids use a ton of weird magic shit and looking back it makes a lot of sense that they would be the ones working hardest to militarize mana because that's absolutely their vibe)

This isnt about rion but overall I think there's kind of a lot of magic that can be done in that world that isn't necessarily done through craft/unlocking, but the vast majority of it is done through complicated rituals and/or take really specific materials (like jens scrying spell in act 1). This is where a lot of the in-game abilities that aren't directly related to craft (like most of Zan and Rions abilities) come from, but they're really complicated to figure out, especially without the right resources and knowledge and it takes a lot of skill and practice, which is why stuff like mana is the more common option even though it's way fucking dumber

Anyway back to Rion

I think he's deeply bad at reading people regardless of what form he's in and when he's a dog, that leads to him being way too trusting but when he's human he just overcorrects into not trusting anyone because he still doesn't have a radar for who's gonna fuck him over

He and Jirin Wexler fucked

He regrets telling banks about how he unlocked but only because she stops giving him cigarettes as a dog after that :(

He's deeply deeply touch starved and when he's human he just gets over it but when he's a dog and around people he's comfortable with, he gets really clingy (which is super weird for people who don't know that he's literally just a dog)

This isn't a head cannons bc you can tell just by looking at him but hes constantly trying so hard to look cool and he fails pretty miserably a lot of the time

This is also literally cannon but I have to highlight the fact that he dyes his hair (and more importantly his fucking EYEBROWS) to match the way he looks as a dog, I think it's crazy that he puts in THAT much effort for something so stupid <3

If anyone else has any other head cannons (about rion or anyone else) I'd genuinely love to hear them, I'm always sad about how few people I see talking about these incredible characters

#tactical breach wizards #rion tactical breach wizards #rion ????#not a reblog #tactical breach wizards spoilers #i guess #I'll peobably reblog this later with other shit that i missed #sorry for just kinda ranting about the magic system for a while there #i will do it again

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threerattsinatrenchcoat · 6 months ago

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2024 Writing Challenge Wrap Up

This year I wanted to put out a piece of writing—either a complete piece or a chapter—every week. My main goal was to quit getting stuck in editing hell. This is what I learned:

Writing for output gets you faster but it really highlights your weaknesses as a writer. I found myself reusing a lot of genres, themes, characters, sentence structure, etc, as a crutch to make the process easier. The worst was when I would simply list everything that happened in a scene, like a micromanaging script writer—she did x, he did y, she did z—without taking the time to prune it to the story I wanted to tell. (Funny enough, a friend sent me this article today that perfectly highlights what I'm trying to describe here. This past year my consumption of visual media definitely increased). I'd finish a piece and the word count would seem impressive, but those words didn't actually say anything. Quantity was reducing my quality.

Compared to my earlier writing, I also slipped into using more obvious/dull similes and metaphors. Every character started to speak and act the same, and instead of writing endings, I found myself just writing characters who simply "won" the plot.

Writing short stories combatted almost all of the above. It forced me to remove parts that were hiring the story and remember that I rarely needed the text to describe everything. The dialogue, characters actions and values, my audience's own brains would fill in the gaps. I think people even enjoy a bit of vagueness, especially with jokes; explaining the punchline doesn't make it funny. Letting people have that moment of "aha!" is more effective.

Sometimes I overcorrected—I've read a few older pieces where I'm like, "wait what just happened," but at least I didn't find myself skipping parts of the story.

Applying the concepts of "but it went wrong" and "they would not say that" also helped the above. When I caught myself just writing a list of all the things my characters did to win the plot, I would combat that by either having them fail or fuck up or both. My stories were way more fun/interesting when I figured out the line a character would not cross and then made their victory beyond that line, so they either had to cross the line or avoid it entirely. Example: in The Gang Goes to the Underdark, Zarys will not leave the shipment, even if it means leaving part of her team behind and traveling a very dangerous route, so she goes to ridiculous lengths to deliver it, including capturing minotaurs and walking straight into a trap.

Refusing to have characters act out of character made for more interesting stories, I think. After all, there's a reason I like these characters. (Shout out to @graysparrowao3 whose toxic Aradin/Rugan fics encouraged me to let people be more awful, and to everyone who stans villains). Whenever I had to have a character break "they would not say that" I tried to figure out a good why. Why would this unempathetic character be nice to someone? Maybe because they really love them… or maybe because they think they can get something out of it.

Writing is time consuming. I joked a few times about how I need to step away from the keyboard, my family misses me, but I work full time, go to the gym, volunteer and aim for 7 hours of sleep a night…and then was writing 10+ hours a week. For my pieces, I tried to note down how long they took because I think people devalue free things, but every made thing has a cost.

I can write through (almost) anything. I originally thought I would fail at this goal. Technically I did—4 things I wrote were never posted (projects fell through), and I was without power/cell/internet/water for weeks after a hurricane and while I did write, posting wasn't on my agenda. I also was wildly burnt out/grieving after the hurricane and found myself mechanically getting pieces out there, using the challenge as a way to implement some normalcy. But I posted most weeks and wrote something for every single one. I learned how to barrel through writer's block and how to say "good enough" for a deadline.

Avoiding burnout is a proactive, not a reactive, activity. I fully planned to abandon this challenge if I thought it was ruining my relationship with writing. However, really prioritizing other parts of my life did a lot to protect my relationship with writing, especially prioritizing exercise and my family/friends. Towards the end of the year I started writing less and less, mostly to pick back up other hobbies (gaming especially).

I can write characters, ships, kinks and stories that I don't care about. I did several exchanges/challenges this year because coming up with so much to write is hard. These exchanges meant that I wrote a bunch of stuff where I started the fic not giving a single flying fuck about the characters. Three of a Four Course Meal is an example—I picked it up on a pinch hit mostly because "vampire dinner party" was too hilarious a prompt to let it not be written. I'm not into robots, most of the mages, or Cal/Geraldus (or most of the couples I write, sorry! Like 90% of them are from talking to people online and being like "I like this person, I want to make them something") but I wrote each with the mindset of "I don't need to be into this, I just need to figure out how to write it." I think this helps a lot with output and with pushing yourself to write better. The advice to kill your darlings is also a lot easier when the piece doesn't start out as darling.

Stats:

I debated not including this because all that ^^^ is the real victory, but fuck it, I want to link fics, haha.

I posted over 300,000 words in 2024 (I started to do the math to remove all the words in collab chapter fics I didn't write and gave up) across 48 fics and 105 chapters, which for me is a massive quantity. Every single fic was a rare pair. I cracked several new tags on AO3—I'm probably most infamous for Dammon/Strange Ox, but I also did others, like Vorgoth/Rook, Guex & Pandirna and a bunch of Salazon tags. I also contributed to so many Elturian Refugee and Zhent tags. I'm still a little confused how there are only 43 works with Alfira/Lakrissa, but 4 of them are mine and 3 of those have Alfira/Lakrissa as the main couple. I'm doing my part!

My most popular fic for hits was Wine, Iron and Other Damnables. This was also one of the first I posted, closest to the "height" of activity in the fandom. It was my longest at 44,047 words. I recently reread it and it's not as snappy as my stuff ended up in the end, but it does have a lot of fun plays on words I'd like to return to.

My most kudos'd fic was Where There's Smoke. It was posted pretty soon after Veilguard came out and got a shout out on tiktok, which quadrupled its kudos in 3 days. Really a testament to how much the "when" you post matters; it's pretty standard Ratt smut but so much more popular than my other stuff! The word count was 2,988, although you can pick your pronouns and stuff so the word count is actually higher.

My least popular fic for hits is The Curse of a Promise. It's a rair pair, is WLW, it's SFW—basically everything people say won't get hits haha. But it's my little fic (878 words) and I love it. Least popular for kudos is Popper's Bag of Popping at 700 words, which I was a little surprised by. Maybe it's an issue with the tone not matching the subject? Either way, I'm glad it's no longer one of my Wyll fics.

My shortest fic was Perception at 141 words, and I'm honestly very fond of it!

What's next?

I plan to keep writing, but definitely not at the same output. I would really like to return to some of the creativity and wordplay I had in my original stuff, and I can't do that and put out as much material. I also really want to prioritize longer pieces again.

I'll probably step back from exchanges. It was pretty disheartening to work hard on something for someone and have the receiver comment "can't wait to read it" and then nothing. Or, you know, get literally nothing, not even a kudos. It's kind of soured my feelings toward exchanges. However, shout out to @commander-krios and @lolliputian for running several solid collabs/exchanges and the Zhentil keep for their round robins.

I would like to do a bit more art this year. I know practice generally makes improvement, and seeing how much other artists like @littleplasticrat and @redroomroaving have improved has made me want to get back at it. I cannot do a piece a week, though, haha. Maybe one a month, we'll see. I haven't decided.

Overall, though, I would like to spend less time online. I miss my family, I miss DnD, gaming, reading and hiking. There were things I delayed last year to meet this goal that no longer exist. I'm tired. Happy I did this, but tired.

Additional thoughts that didn't really fit anywhere:

I never expected to make friends during the challenge but I did. I made a lot of friends, and they're all driven, creative, ridiculous, intelligent, hilarious, honest, silly and so valuable to me. I really missed making things with people. I'm just so grateful to everyone I met.

I'm also grateful to all the people who tagged me in their end of the year posts, thank you so much. You're all very lovely

#ratt rambling

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heygerald · 1 year ago

Text

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 2

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Colt Seavers' sister, Parker, finds the professional asshole in a vulnerable moment, she decides to sideline the attitude to help. Is an asshole still an asshole if no one is around?

read the story here: prev / next

The movie was finished, and, apparently, a whole lot of people were happy and drunk over that little fact. The wrap party was currently being hosted by Gail—producer extraordinaire—and it was quite literally the nicest house that Parker had ever seen in person. White leather couches that cost more than her car dotted the living room floor, decorated with Williams Sonoma pillows, and a Versace rug that spelled the brand name out in big, bold letters. Art hung on every available space, while odd statues were placed at random throughout the living room. There was even a pair of perfectly groomed Afghan Hounds doing tricks near the conversation pit.

The opulence of it all was counteracted by half-drunken executives milling around the pool, very drunk equipment techies playing a game involving dice, a quarter, and a banana in the kitchen, and one particular Colt Seavers miserably attempting a handstand on the back patio.

"It's harder than it looks, you know," he told the crowd of onlookers as he teetered left and right. Venti swatted his shoe when it knocked into the back of her head, while Jody tried to act impressed with some half-hearted clapping. "I did this once—two hours. Could barely talk afterwards."

"Two hours?" she echoed; half doubt, half amusement. "That sounds almost impossible."

"Heh, well, nothing is impossible if you believe hard enough. You're the only one who gets to decide what you will be remembered for."

"Is that written on a poster somewhere?"

"Uh, not exactly—"

Colt's peacocking was cut short when an unfortunately timed sneezed caused the stuntman to lose his balance. He swung his legs wildly in an overcorrection that ended up knocking a full glass of Chardonnay right onto Parker's lap.

She responded in true sisterly fashion: by promptly shoving him as hard as she could on the hip with the toe of her shoe. And though his literal job was to know how to take a fall, the entire patio got to watch as he went ass over face into a nearby potted plant.

Alcohol, a nice sunny evening, good music, and better food made the fiasco a spectacle, and everyone keeled forward at the waist in laughter. Jody, bless her, did her best to muffle her giggles behind her hat while Colt awkwardly floundered on the ground. Parker didn't have such restrictions.

"It was a Taylor Swift quote, actually," she told the camerawoman. It wasn't as funny when she noticed the damage to her pants, and with a sigh she attempted to blot the wet spot with Venti's crumpled napkin. "These are brand new jeans, you ass."

Colt popped back onto his feet with a flushed face. A pair of executives raised their eyebrows at him curiously, and in response he offered his typical awkward smile and wave combo. "What did I tell you about being cool?" he hissed at his sister.

"You're the one attempting cheap Cirque-de-Solei acts on Gail's back deck," she tutted.

"You're not even supposed to be here," he whined while plopping himself down beside Jody. She pretended to sympathize by offering a pat on the back. "How are you even here? You didn't even work on the movie!"

Parker shrugged. "Dan brought me as his plus-one."

"His—? I didn't even get a plus-one!"

"Maybe because you do stupid stuff like a handstand in the middle of a crowded party," she sniped. Colt didn't rise to the bait, however, and instead slumped onto Jody's lap with a long-suffering sigh.

"S'not fair," he muttered into her leg, words half smothered by the denim. "This is my first big party, and you just happen to be invited as well. Oh, the misery."

Parker blew a raspberry.

Colt batted his eyes at Jody and she conceded with an easygoing smile. "I didn't get a plus-one either, babe. But you know what? If I did, I would haven't wanted to bring anyone but you," she cooed while tapping him on the nose.

And—god, it actually worked.

Colt's entire face broke out into a starry-eyed smile.

Parker, still wet and now grossed out, decided that was as fine a time as any to excuse herself. "Well that's officially disgusting. I'm going to try to find a hair dryer and see if I can't dry this before it stains or I throw up."

"There's a loo by the kitchen," Jody pointed.

Colt popped up out of her lap, his tantrum already forgotten about. "Oh, hey! Will you get me another beer? Something cold, domestic maybe. A bud light if they have it. If not, I'm cool with whatever is on tap."

She blinked at her brother. Once, twice, three times.

"Yeah," she shook her head at him. "And I'm the embarrassing one."

"What'd I say?"

Both women promptly ignored that as she asked if Jody wanted something, but the camerawoman was still working on her very much un-spilled glass of wine and therefore didn't need anything. Venti made a general request for some snacks, which Dan quickly seconded.

Parker gave them a thumbs-up before heading inside. The mansion was no less shocking the second time she traipsed through it, but it was certainly more daunting to brave without her date, brother, or Jody and with a giant wine stain near her crotch.

No one seemed to notice her discomfort, however. There were plenty other things to occupy their attention. Between the caterers walking around with trays of fancy finger foods and freshly made mojitos there wasn't any reason to take note of the unfamiliar face in the crowd. She wound her way past whatever game was happening on the kitchen island towards where Jody had said the bathroom was. Unfortunately, the free food and alcohol did seem to have a penance; the line was seven women long.

"Wine?" a waiter offered on a silver tray.

"No thanks, I'm still wearing my last glass off," she joked with a dry smile. The kid followed her line of sight to the large wet spot on her pants and went bright pink.

Still, it couldn't have been the worst thing she had seen before, and with a modicum of professionalism that impressed Parker, she pulled forward a second tray with a variety of fun colored drinks. The one closest smelled of coconut and had a cute umbrella sticking out of it.

"Piña colada?" she asked.

"...yup."

Parker grabbed a glass and didn't hesitate to take a large gulp. And—damn.

Thank you Gail Meyer.

The waitress then leaned closer, glancing pointedly at the bathroom and then Parker's jeans, before saying, "there's two more bathrooms upstairs that are open for guests."

Channeling Jody, Parker grinned. "Brills," she chirped.

She felt a little bad that she didn't have any money to tip the kid, but before she could try to work something out, the redhead was already drifting off through the crowd to offer the other guests her variety of drinks.

"Brills indeed," she said again, even more pleased.

Following suit, she wound through the crowds of people until she reached a large staircase. From there, the crowds seemed to thin out considerably.

A few people sat in conversation at the foyer at the top; a beautiful blonde woman that was the lead actress in the film was chatting with some friends. She was utterly gorgeous, with pearly skin and silken hair, and without even looking where she was going Parker covered her pants with her hand and darted to the hallway on her right.

The first door revealed a linen room with a washer/dryer set that she half considered smuggling out when she left later that night. The second a yoga studio. The third was locked.

The fourth door was tucked all the way on the end of the hallway, hidden between a glass statue of a pelican and a snake plant that was taller than her. It wasn't locked—in fact, whoever had previously been inside had left the door ajar.

Parker stuck her head inside, and was ecstatic to realize it was a bathroom.

A nice one, she thought while stepping inside.

There was a marble counter with a large white sink, a mirror with LED lights, a beautiful tile floor, a clawfoot tub next to a large window that overlooked the back yard, edited photos of Gail on every wall, plants hanging from the ceiling, candles propped across floating shelves, a stunning white rug of questionable descent, and—

Tom Ryder. Hunched over a toilet. Puking.

"Shit."

The sound of her voice echoed in the nearly silent bathroom. Tom jerked upwards, all red flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, and though it took him a moment to realize just who had walked in on him, he didn't manage so much as a glare before he was retching into the toilet bowl.

"Uh, fuck, um—do you—I can totally come back. Sorry. Sorry!" she said, panicked, backtracking towards the door before she not so smoothly slipped on said rug. Parker hit the ground with a squeak, and her piña colada only added to the wet spot on her pants. "Fuck!"

The hurling stopped for a moment as he took in a large, calming breath. And the sudden awkwardness of it all had her freezing in place on the ground, staring.

Always fucking staring when it came to Tom Ryder. Never able to look away.

The white button down he had arrived wearing was discarded haphazardly near the rug. His ripped jeans were bunched on the calves, shoes nowhere to be found, while sweat-dampened tufts of hair were plastered to his forehead.

He looked... well, awful.

Which was a far cry from the first time she had ever seen him on the set, and the three or four times after that in which the pair had equally unfortunate run-ins with one another. Every single one had been filled with witty barbs and well-placed insults. Mostly on her part. Tom seemed to prefer the approach of generally being an asshole in everything he said, did, and thought. It came natural to him, really, and just like their introduction it always ended with Colt playing referee to keep the two from drawing blood.

Well. Colt was nowhere to be seen, and Tom was already down.

Suffice to say Parker certainly had the upper hand if they were going to fight.

But—well, fuck. The dude was lying on the bathroom floor at his producer's house during a party that was practically being thrown in his honor.

Alone. Sick. And looking a little too close to death for comfort.

"Ah, fuck," Parker seconded under her breath. She set aside the cup to shake ice cubes and an orange slice off her shirt. Of course the towels were all white. Wincing, she started to pat dry her, well, everything with a side-eye in his direction. "Are you... okay?"

He scowled. Sorta. It was hard to tell when his face was half hidden in a porcelain bowl. "What the fuck do you think?"

"I don't know. That's kind of the purpose of asking."

"Fine."

"You sure don't look fine."

He glanced at her, eyes darting over the wet spot on her pants to the newly wet spot on her shirt. Somehow, he wasn't too sick to roll his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the cold porcelain. "You're supposed to drink it, not wear it."

"Says the guys vomiting his drinks right back—"

The mention of the word vomit had his face turning a shade of green, and not a moment later Tom pitched forward to throw up once more.

Parker winced. She didn't have a strong stomach, and the sound alone was already threatening her own health. "...er, sorry."

"Can you go bother someone else?"

The vomiting subsided. Parker looked at her pretty pineapple glass with a despondent sigh before she filled it up with cold tap water. He didn't accept it when she offered it, however, and with a defeated sigh she set it onto the sink counter.

"I'm trying to be nice, asshole."

"Hm. Since when are you nice?"

"Well I'm pretty sure if you choke on your own vomit and die, I'll be liable as the last person to see you alive. So," she fluttered her hands at him, unsure of what to do or where to touch, and eventually Parker settled for planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Just—chill out for a moment, okay. I'm going to call Colt and have him find Gail."

"No, no, don't—don't tell Gail."

"Are you kidding? I think you might actually die, dude."

"Just don't," he snapped in a tone that left little room for argument. Of course, it was plenty easy for her sidestep the argument considering he was down for the count on the bathroom floor, but after a moment of a silent stare down, his shoulders deflated with a sigh. "I... she's going to flip. Alright? I'm fine."

"Fine?"

Tom attempted a shrug. "Bad reaction to shrimp."

Parker heard alarm bells ringing. When she spotted a nickel sized baggie on the counter those bells turned into sirens. She pinched it between two fingers while arching a brow at him pointedly. "I know giant shrimp are a thing, but I didn't know microscopic shrimp had started to gain traction."

His lack of a retort was more concerning than the vomiting.

"I think I should get you some help."

"It's not—" he started before stopping when he took too deep a breath. Something darkened in his features; mouth flattening, downcast eyes, furrowed brows. Was that guilt she saw? Or shame? "Just... relax. I took some Xanax and it... well, you know, fucked with the alcohol."

Parker couldn't withhold a snort. "Xanax? Seriously. Are you secretly an unhappy soccer mom or something?"

Whatever look had been curling his eyebrows vanished in seconds, replaced full force by a glare. "Fuck off, alright. I take them sometimes for anxiety."

"What in the hell do you have to be anxious about?" she asked.

There was a long pause. Music thrummed from outside, laughter, chatter, and shouting echoing happily in the summer evening air. The bathroom itself was cold.

Even colder when he said, "you know you can be a real asshole sometimes too."

And—yeah.

That single sentence fucked with Parker. Because upon closer introspection she realized that, shit, he was right. The guy was on the ground, throwing up, in a vulnerable state surrounded by some very powerful people that could easily ruin his career if they found him and here she was kicking him when he was down. Literally.

Pot, meet kettle. You two have a lot more in common than you think.

Disgruntled at being called out—by Tom fucking Ryder of all people—it was Parker's turn to flush red in shame. She tucked the pill baggie into the pocket of her jeans so someone else wouldn't stumble upon it and his piss poor excuse, before sticking her head out into the hallway. Whatever was going on in the landing seemed to be keeping everyone occupied, and the noise wafting from downstairs made it clear that the party would continue with or without her.

Satisfied, she firmly pulled the door shut. Paused. Then locked it for good measure.

The bathroom was surprisingly empty despite all of the decorations. Thanks Kim, now even Gail is part of the minimalist movement. The mirror cabinet was completely empty over then some Q-tips and an extra bar of soap, and there was no space under the sink for storage. Tutting, Parker pulled the hand towel free and stuck it under the tap.

Then, she lowered herself to his level. Physically.

Tom seemed surprised that she hadn't left. Even more so when Parker offered the cup for a second time.

"What?" he asked, a bit dumbly. Fair though, given the circumstances.

"You should drink some water."

"Can't you just piss off?"

She sighed through her nose and gently shoved the cup into his hand. "Drink some fucking water, Tom."

They stared at each other for a long moment before he accepted the cup. He shifted so that his back was now pressed into the shower so he could drink without choking. Parker took advantage to close the toilet lid, flush it, turn on the overhead fan, and crack open a nearby window.

Immediately, it felt easier to breathe.

Tom took two, small sips before setting aside the cup. Patronizing, even when he wasn't trying to be.

"Do you want me to go find one of your friends?" she asked; almost entirely because she couldn't stand not talking.

He shot her a deadpan look. "No."

"O-kay. How about some food?"

He grimaced.

"Right," she clicked her tongue. "Some soda? Ginger-ale might help with the nausea. I don't think you should take any ibuprofen right now or else I would offer some."

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

He gestured vaguely to her, to the room they were in, and then to himself. She could tell by the way that his face paled even that small use of energy was taxing, and Parker shoved the glass of water back into his palm.

"I'm just trying to help."

He harrumphed, but chanced another sip of water. "Why?"

"Because you were... right," she muttered through clenched teeth. He blinked at her through hazy eyes, and she tried not to notice the sweat dripping down his bare chest. "I was, well... being an asshole. And you need help. So."

He still said nothing. Parker tried not to feel super awkward.

After a moment of indecisive staring Tom took another sip of water before letting his head hit the wall with a soft thud. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"How on Earth is me hanging out in a bathroom with you a trick?" she scoffed.

"I don't know," he shrugged, sipped the water, and took a long, hard swallow that made her wonder if he was biting back another round of bile. Subtly, Parker propped the toilet lid open again. "Blackmail, or whatever."

What a fucking asshole, she thought.

"Just because everyone else is dying to get a picture of Tom Ryder doesn't mean that I am," she said. Her attitude did little to convince him of her good intentions if the wary look he shot her was anything to go by. Rolling her eyes, she plucked her phone from her back pocket, waved it dramatically around in the air, before turning it off. When the screen was good and black she half-heartedly tossed it aside. "Happy?"

He grumbled.

Parker huffed. Don't be an asshole, she had to remind herself while clambering to her feet. The hand towel was properly wet and cold by now. She switched off the tap and took a moment to wring out as much water as she could. Then she promptly slapped the wet towel onto his forehead with a thwap.

"What is—?"

"Just shut up and leave it be, okay? The cold water should help with the flush. Once your skin starts returning to a normal temperature, the nausea should be more manageable. I don't know anything about downers, but... it's the best I can do without getting help or using my phone," she said; adding a pointed glared at the mention of her discarded device.

He grumbled a bit louder, but didn't remove the towel. In fact, she watched his eyes flutter contentedly as he smoothed it out along his hairline. "Are you a doctor now or something?"

"On the side. I'm at A-list parties all the time. You're hardly the first celebrity I've found on a bathroom floor with an empty pill baggie."

"...seriously?"

"No. Not seriously, Tom. That was a joke."

He blinked at her. "Oh," he said awkwardly. Then, added, "wasn't that funny."

It was her turn to bang her head onto the cabinet behind her. "Well, sorry for trying to lighten the mood. I'm still a little worried I'm going to get sued or something for this."

"For spilling on Gail's mink rug?"

"That's mink?!" she shrieked, jerking around to give the rug a better glance over. No wonder it was fabulously soft. "Who the fuck keeps a mink rug in the bathroom? Shit! Do you think she'll charge me to clean it? I can barely afford eggs!"

There was a noise half between a grumble and cough, and when she glanced towards Tom he was sporting a crooked smile under the towel. "That was a joke."

"O—oh," she said. Parker glanced at the rug once more. "Well, it wasn't that funny."

"You don't know how to clean mink fur?"

With the panic subsiding from her suddenly too-tight chest, Parker returned to her seat on the ground, and glared. "I guess I skipped over that chapter in my cleaning manual."

"Is that where you learned the thing about wet rags?" he asked, subtly fixing said wet rag with a sigh. His shoulders relaxed as he settled against the shower glass, and in turn Parker tried to relax as well.

"No. I read that in an old textbook once. A physiology manual from, like, the 1930s. So, I actually have no idea if it's outdated information or not. Guess we'll find out, huh?"

"Why the hell are you reading a physics manual?"

"Physiology."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. Like... a lot," she deadpanned. He responded with a blank, empty, no lights-on-behind-the-curtains look. Parker pinched the bridge of her nose before decidedly moving on. "I read a lot."

"Don't you work?"

"Says the guy who reads bad scripts for a living," she retorted. His cheeks had been slowly returning to their normal color, but quickly blushed an irritable red as he scowled at her.

"My movie scripts are not bad," he shot back with just as much heat. "They're million dollar enterprises, that make quite a lot of people rich and famous. Like people here, at this party. What have you ever done?"

"Not have my face plastered on a billboard."

"Exactly."

"Yeah, and thank god for that."

"There's not a chance in hell you would ever."

"Good!"

It took them both a moment to realize that they weren't actually agreeing on anything. Parker thought having her face plastered on a billboard was a horrific nightmare that she would not be able to endure, while Tom clearly took pride in his advertisements spread all over the Hollywood acres. Somehow, though, in their attempt to insult the other, they had missed the mark entirely.

The pair shared mutual glares.

Stopped short when he turned green in the face, pitched forward, and vomited a third and final time.

"Oh, shit," she said, hands waving around and not knowing what to do other than to snatch the wet washcloth from where it had fallen into his lap. Awkwardly, Parker patted him on the back. Once, twice. "Um... better out than in, right?"

"Did you read that in a book too?" his voice echoed hoarsely from the toilet bowl.

And, well, it was such a ridiculous question to be asked while he was hurling into a toilet worth more than her car, that Parker didn't have a response other than to huff.

Which turned into a giggle. Then an actual laugh.

In an even more surprising turn of events, Tom laughed too. "S'not funny."

"No, no, actually," she corrected him to gently lay the cold towel across the back of his neck. "I think that's the funniest thing you've ever said, Ryder."

Some time passed as he focused on taking deep breaths before the nausea passed for good. As he returned to his former position against the wall, hand towel now dripping a trail down his chest, Parker flushed the toilet a second time, and folded her legs into a pretzel so she could lean an elbow on her knee. "I read a lot for work. Out of boredom, mostly," she admitted.

"Bad scripts?" he echoed her earlier sentiments.

"Bad biographies, mostly," she corrected him. He gave her an odd look, to which she shrugged. "I work at a bookstore. Er—own—a bookstore, I mean. I just read whatever I happen to find that day."

Parker wondered if Tom Ryder had ever stepped foot in a bookstore before or if he got too distracted by his reflection in the window outside.

"I don't think I've ever been to a bookstore," he said, almost as if he could hear her. The reason why remained inconclusive. "But I thought the idea was to sell books, not read them."

"Generally, yeah," she conceded with a sigh. It wasn't so funny now and she frowned at the thought of her dilapidated store with shoddy lighting and a half-functional air conditioner. "It's not exactly... well, successful. Not like your movies, anyway. I can't throw giant wrap parties for my employees because, well, I don't have any. I don't get a lot of customers so I read."

"Movies are better than books," he said.

He must have caught the irritated curl of her mouth because he made an amendment to his statement before she could argue.

"I mean," he added in the raw sort of voice one got from throwing up five times in an hour, "they make more money. It's all anyone cares about in LA."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should get a billboard."

Tom snorted. "You wish."

Parker wanted to glare, but... it was a little on the nose. The idea of shelling out money to plaster her face—or even her bookstore's name—on highway billboards went against what she believed in. She liked the idea of having a small, hole in the wall shop where lonely wanderers like herself could take solace in. That's what the shop had been in the decades before she bought it. Then again, her old boss had been all too eager to hand it off to her, and how bill days she suspected he knew that it was a dying market without a hope or a dream.

Only—LA was supposably the land of dreams... right?

"You ever read sci-fi?" he asked.

Thrown by the question, Parker had to shake the static out of her brain before it fully comprehended. "Uh, sure. Loads. There's tons of source material from the 70's and 80's that is pretty fun. They're all considered kind of hokey nowadays though so they don't sell that well."

Tom shifted the towel back to his forehead with a thoughtful tut.

He didn't seem so sickly pale anymore, and his breathing had evened out. Even his chest had dried up a bit.

How didn't he die of lack of service if he was never wearing a shirt when she saw him?

"There's this role that I want to go for, a big sci-fi thing. Gail said that I'm not right for it, though."

"Not right for it?" she echoed, scrunching her nose. "Seriously?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug. "Too pretty, she said. Which—duh—that's a given," he added. Parker responded with an over the top eyeroll, but she refrained from faking a gag. She was a little too worried that they weren't out of the woods yet, and that the sound (fake or not) would provoke Tom to start hurling again. "But it's a smart role. Intense. A great script. I think I'd be perfect for it."

"Can't you audition anyway?"

"I don't know, I—she—Gail tends to know what roles I'm good for, you know. She doesn't think I can pull off a smart, sci-fi type."

Parker snorted. "Why not? All Chris Pine has going for him is blonde hair and blue eyes and he got three movies out of Star Trek. Pretty sure you got that covered. You know, box dye notwithstanding."

Tom shot her a cross look. "I would never use box dye on my hair."

"Even better," she waved a hand at him flippantly. "Audition then."

Something weird happened then. Something so out of character and bizarre that by the next day Parker would convince herself it hadn't really happened; that it was provoked by the bathroom fumes of Febreze and vomit.

But Tom Ryder, A-lister, looked... unsure.

"Yeah, I... I don't know. She's probably right."

Sounded it, too.

Parker didn't even know how to react to that. The guy had been a grade A tool since the moment she met him, and in the several run-ins they had since, he hadn't disproven the label. He basically worshipped himself. Once, she had even caught him admiring a paparazzi photo taken of him wearing low riding swim trunks in a cheap magazine.

Seriously!

The guy loved himself, talked about himself, and never let people forget who he was! What could ever provoke a moment of self-depreciation like this?

Oh, duh. Drugs.

"Jesus, how much Xanax did you take? You don't even sound like yourself."

The question pulled him from whatever pensive moment he had been having, and Tom's response was to promptly chuck the wet towel at Parker. It landed atop her head with a smack.

She plucked it off with a grimace. Wet pants, wet shirt, now wet hair. She would have to go home after this to save herself the sheer embarrassment of being an utter disaster at her first mansion party. And by the time she glanced back over at him he was back to his normal mode of self-importance as he started to run a hand through his damp hair, singular moment of weakness already forgotten.

"Is my hair okay?"

Parker sighed.

It was nice while it lasted, she thought.

"Yeah, Ryder," she deadpanned while ambling onto her feet. She fixed her own hair in the mirror while he finished the last of his water. He actually looked close to normal—because, of fucking course he looks fine after coming down from a bad drug cocktail—and she avoided the mink rug entirely to pick his shirt up off the ground. "Your hair looks fine, Chris Pine. Your shirt is probably all wrinkled though."

"Fuck. That's Dolce & Gabbana."

"I thought it was linen," she snarked.

There was some groaning and whining as he teetered onto his own feet, and while Parker was half afraid that he might just keel over and die on her, he seemed more scandalized by the fact that she was touching his designer clothes.

Snatching the shirt out of her hands, Tom huffed, "do you even know what linen is? I thought all you knew how to wear is that polyester crap you seem to like so much."

Wow. What a fucking asshole.

It was her turn to take a deep, calming breath as he ambled towards the mirror. He didn't seem sick anymore, his breathing was normal, shoulders relaxed, and he was able to stand on his own. Somehow, even his skin had bounced back with a lively, bright sheen.

Fuck, even his back was beautiful. How did—?

A wrinkled Dolce & Gabbana shirt was slung over his back, effectively cutting off her gazing. Parker ran a hand through her hair a second time. When she glanced in the mirror, however, she found Tom smirking at her.

"Staring ain't free you know. The pap pay a lot for this," he said.

For fuck's sake! she thought as her mouth curled sourly.

Shaking herself of both her stupor and kind hearted feelings, Parker snatched her phone off of the ground. She didn't miss the way that he was ogling her back side in the mirror, and she flushed a bright shade of pink without meaning to. That only incensed his smirk further.

"Yeah, um, Tom? I did lie," she admitted, pausing in the doorway to bat her eyelashes at him as dramatically as she could. She wasn't an actress, but she was pretty sure the point got across when she cooed, "your hair looks awful."

She watched his jaw slacken in the mirror with a sharp smile, before Parker swung the bathroom door open, and made her way back to the party.

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

And the love/hate continues.

#plot bunny #the fall guy #the fall guy imagine #tom ryder #tom ryder x ofc #original female character #tom ryder imagine

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wyrmguardsecrets · 2 months ago

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Prognosis from an old vet returning. Unironically, bring back wild west MG. Division has made mutual blacklists common, communities that were once the red string that made the world feel alive are now the seedbed of drama and division. The server leadership has overcorrected in the medium's lack of moderation to put inclusion on the backburner, leading to weaponized virtue signaling and grudges that are wildly at a standstill after literally half the lifetimes of some of the participants. Wild.

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fiachrastudios · 1 year ago

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*Bernie Sanders voice* I am once again experimenting wildly with my style.

A little something for the personal project I've been working on recently. I tried going a little looser with the flatting instead of the lineart, which is definitely an interesting effect. I don't think I'll do it going forward (just because I try to work under the assumption I might print any of my pieces eventually, and don't want to have to worry about misalignment), but I like how it came out here. I'm also trying out big eyes, usually I try to draw them more realistically but they always turn out way too small, so hopefully I can train myself by overcorrecting for a bit.

#bg3 #bg3 fanart #tav #aelar melianme #my art #fiachra studios #procreate #digital art #dnd #drow #baldur's gate 3

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the-casual-cheesecake · 2 years ago

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WHAT A GREAT QUESTION, ANON! I have been wildly (and uncharacteristically for me, an ex omegaverse hater) obsessed with omegaverse Exos since I got into Exo, and my thoughts on them recently changed drastically, so what good timing you have!

I’ll first start with saying that I don’t like betas, and never include them in any thoughts about omegaverse. I just think they’re boring– though I do have friends who have managed to make them VERY interesting; I just think I don’t have anything insightful or interesting to say about them myself.

And for a second note, I think it’s important to describe what I think omegaverse is for really: because it has many meanings that change based on who’s writing in it. For me, omegaverse makes most sense as a formalization of power dynamics. One could make the argument that it’s inherently kinky (and in fact, I do). It’s less about inherent sexuality OR gender, and more about inherent power structures and how someone could play with them. This is not to say that interesting discussions can’t happen in omegaverse about sexuality or gender– because they absolutely can and do, but I think mostly, it’s about biological power, in a way that our actual society thinks exists and tries to enforce (violently and forcefully), that is actually made real via omegaverse.

For the Fandom Olds among us, this interpretation would not come as a surprise, considering omegaverse took the place of BDSM AUs in fandom!

A third note, all of my omegaverse content always and forever will be poly! Poly packs 5eva!!!

ANYWAY, EXOS!

[vibrates] they are pack, your honor…

Pack alpha: Minseok

Alphas: Junmyeon, Jongdae, Chanyeol, Kyungsoo

Omegas: Yixing, Baekhyun, Jongin, Sehunnie

Minseok:

As the oldest, and from the fact that Minseok in canon refused to be Exo-M’s leader, it just makes so much sense for him to be the pack alpha but not the band leader. He has the character of a supervisor dom. He’s not involved with everyone in the band and entangled with them– because, frankly, they are too loud and too messy, and he has no energy to deal with so many people needing his attention and involvement. But he is a steady presence that they can all depend on. He listens to their problems and pets them about them. He scruffs the alphas into place when necessary (and reassures them that even if they fuck up, he’ll be there to help), and spends time with the omegas when they need him, and makes sure that their needs are taken care of and that they don’t feel too lost in the pack.

I’m pretty sure that even in omegaverse, Minseok is queer, and he probably prefers alphas to omegas; less mess, and more satisfaction in bringing them to heel.

Naturally, the person he’s closest to in the pack is Jongdae, this is canon in any and all universes. They’re the gossip husbands, drinking late at night and talking about the rest of the band like two intensely invested aunties, but being steady and gentle with the others the rest of the time. They probably sleep together, but they’re definitely not monogamous, and as in canon, probably are both aware that Jongdae would actually like to settle down with a mate at some point.

Minseok spends the omegas’ heats with them if they want him to, as do all the alphas– because the Exos are all very very busy and alternate being with the omegas depending on their schedules. His favorite is probably Sehunnie though, because Sehun is whiny but pliant and obedient in heat; the rest are complicated (will get to them!)

Junmyeon:

I imagine him to be as neurotic in omegaverse as he is in canon. He’s a sadist and is terrified of this fact. He takes his job as leader so seriously that it fucks with his head and makes him make very strange personal decisions. He’s an alpha and a dom, but the fact that he’s so scared of his sadism makes him show his belly to his pack and try so hard to be gentle and soft that the overcorrection makes him seem awkward instead.

I think, if I were to transplant canon onto omegaverse, that Junmyeon did not overcorrect so hard until a while after debut; because at first he would punish the Exos for mistakes as harshly as a supervisor, and oooof that probably gave him such a headrush that it turned into kink for him IMMEDIATELY.

Junmeon is Like This in canon really, so what makes omegaverse so much worse for him is that it formalizes all the power dynamics in head in a way that makes it so easy to take advantage of. And he is so convinced the sadism makes him a bad person, that having omegas begging for him in heat, crying and in pain without him even having to do a single thing to them except be there, simply would take him to pieces. Just imagine canon Junmyeon with the power to bite someone and claim them biologically forever… the man wrote the Exos’ names on his damn body, he would lose his fucking mind!!!

Anyway, I think therefore, that Junmyeon is terrified MOST of Baekhyun and Yixing, the resident omega masochists in the band– and to an extent, Chanyeol, who is a masochist but not omega. So, I would imagine him being SO WEIRD with all three of them. Too strict and mean to Chanyeol, and so wary as to almost be avoidant of Yixing, and strangely both overprotective and overconfident in Baekhyun.

Hilariously, he and Sehun click very comfortably, because Sehun isn’t a masochist or a sub. He’s just very into being indulged and having things done for him and to him, and it makes him vibe enough like a sub that it’s hot, but not enough to terrify Junmyeon or cause him to have intense sadistic emotion about Sehun. This also means they’re not super compatible actually lmao, they’re just comfortable enough that they stick together.

I think Junmyeon and Minseok have an interesting relationship, where Minseok would like to be hyung and head alpha for Junmyeon but Junmyeon is too weird about being perceived to be submitting to anyone that whenever Minseok tries to support him, Junymeon just pretends to be Fine™ harder.

Generally though, Junmyeon is a good leader. He’s incredibly competent when it comes to the band’s relationships with management, and he’s incredibly protective and invested in the wellbeing of his pack members. All of his weirdness sort of impacts him internally, but it works to present him the way he desires his image to be externally.

Yixing:

[vibrates] He… the baby…

He’s an omega and a sub. He came into the band with much Trauma™ (familial, as in canon D: ), which made him need so much affection and love that it makes him seem hungry. He pushes himself so hard that it makes him ill often, and it makes it difficult to care about him, because to do so means people have to constantly love him and see him be hurt. He doesn’t have the instincts that lets him trust people to catch him if he falls, so he simply always feels that he’s on his own, even if he isn’t.

In omegaverse, he probably has very difficult heats. Trauma and hormone fuckery do not go well together in any universe, so his heats probably fuck with his emotions massively. And the fact that most of his injuries are spine-related, means that his pelvic floor is just fucked, and would mean his heats actually physically hurt!!!!

The emotional part means that during his heats, he clings so hard to the people next to him to make sure they don’t leave, that he leaves bruises and scratch marks. He probably cries and howls if any of the alphas get up to get him food because he’s scared they’re not coming back and that he’ll be abandoned. He probably wants to be mated and sobs when he isn’t, even though outside of heat he would know it would be a bad idea to mate.

The physical part means he’s in miserable (very unusual) pain throughout.

This makes it a large ordeal to deal with for the pack. Especially considering they are all so tired and so busy and barely have time to rest anyway. And the fact that they have a rotational system for alphas spending time with the in-heat omegas so they don’t miss schedules, which in Yixing’s case simply doesn’t work.

They do love him, but he’s difficult to help. It stresses everyone out and makes the alphas feels horrible and bad at their jobs.

Yixing probably gets on suppressants at some point and simply never comes off them, especially when he starts spending more time in China without any pack around :(

Outside of heat, he smells sweet and is comforting to be around. He’s so skin hungry that he’ll always want to cling to a pack member when they’re home, which they are only happy to do. And he’s good at being hyung to the younger members. He’s also massively good at his job as an artist, it just, you know, kills his body oops… TT

Being away from the pack does make everything worse for him, though. It’s a sore subject for Junmyeon and Minseok especially, that they let one of their pack omegas run off that way where they can’t help him at all. It makes everyone sad.

[Cake lies down on the floor] Yeah… Yixing…

Baekhyun:

He’s an omega, a sub, and a sadist (masochist too, fun combo!) Baekhyun is highly invested in being important to everyone. He wants to be loved so much that he wants to own all the Exos and be owned by all of them, but he’s very aware of how this sounds so he’s just privately insane about this, but publicly all jokey and fun, rather than deeply intense.

The fact that he’s a sadist makes him a strange omega for alphas. So, I bet Baekhyun enjoys being with the omegas most often– bet it almost makes him think he’s like Minseok, and likes omegas more than alphas; but that’s not true. What he really needs is an alpha who would put a hand on his neck and put him in his place but also lets him bite and scratch and be mean to them as well. He needs to sub for his health and well being, but he also needs to feel that it’s safe to sub by being allowed to do horrible things to his alpha/dom and feel like he has power in the relationship. Subbing is so so vulnerable for Baekhyun, it makes him terrified to his bones, but he also wants it really badly.

Anyway, as in canon lmao, Minseok finds Baekhyun too messy and difficult to deal with, so he just flirts and toys with him a little, and probably sleeps with Baekhyun during heats if he’s needed, but doesn’t really let Baekhyun in his bed outside of heat.

Chanyeol is too vulnerable to deal with Baekhyun’s barbed wire words and pointy claws, he takes it too personally, and Baekhyun has to be careful around him. Though when Baekhyun is careful, they’re good friends, and Baekhyun does enjoy sleeping with him and toying with him a little.

Sehunnie is probably Baekyun’s go-to for sex outside of heats (points to the unreal amounts of Baekhyun biting Sehun photos in canon.)

Junmyeon and and Baekhyun are insanely compatible but they have no idea. Junmyeon is terrified of being too much and hurting people but if he actually does hurt Baekhyun (sexy), Baekhyun would lose his goddamn mind. Because Baekhyun needs intensity most of all, he needs to feel like his partner is obsessed with him: and Junmyeon is the most intense person in this band.

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun probably have good sex, but Kyungsoo has absolutely no tollerance for Baekhyun trying to exercise power– which is hot! But you know, it doesn’t let Baekhyun relax entirely with him. It’s the same with Jongdae probably, except Jongdae is nicer about it.

Chanyeol:

He’s an alpha but he’s not interested in holding power over people, it makes him deeply uncomfortable. He’s not a dom, and not a sub, but he does enjoy power games when they’re meant to bring people closer together and build trust.

He frequently goes through periods of being super insecure about how he presents as an alpha, and trying to be more masc and domineering, but it only ever ends up making him feel worse. And during those periods, he often feels like going to the other alphas for help and support is a weakness and tries to do everything himself, including figuring out his own mental blocks– this almost never works.

He clashes with Junmyeon a lot, because he both wants Junmyeon’s attention and admiration and praise, and wants Junmyeon’s to see him as an alpha and respect his authority, and Junmyeon is, as stated before, WEIRD about power things!!!

Though Minseok knows how to be good to Chanyeol and often compensates where Junmyeon fails. So does Jongdae, though he spent a while not really understanding why Chanyeol is the way he is and why he struggles with the things he struggles with.

Kyungsoo’s steadiness and assuredness in himself makes him a good friend to Chanyeol. It helps to look to Kyungsoo when Chanyeol is in flux and feels like nothing is static enough to hold onto.

Sechan are like canon Sechan, naturally. They are weird about power dynamics together in a way that helps both of them. It makes Chanyeol feel at ease that he’s not holding any power via the fact that he’s alpha or hyung over Sehun, and it makes Sehun happy to feel like he holds Chanyeol’s leash and can make him do whatever he wants. What Sehun often wants Chanyeol to do though, is to take care of things for him: take care of food and buying things, and making sure Sehun is comfortable, to fuck Sehun well and not make Sehun do things, and to praise Sehun in front of other people and let Sehun bask in the fact that he’s getting everything he wants. All of this makes Chanyeol feel good and useful and like a good alpha! It’s great!

Jongdae:

He’s one of the people I hesitated for a very long time before assigning an omegaverse dynamic to. I eventually settled on alpha because he’s a caretaker and – although subtle– is actually a little bit of a control freak. He also finds too much contentment in, for example, calming Baekhyun down and making him behave, for him not to be some sort of flavor of dom.

He and Minseok fit well together because they both respect hierarchies a lot, and they respect inner pack workings. They also have the same casual but firm way that they approach their own internal moral compasses. They’re both stubborn and hard to convince to change, which makes them both comfortable, considering they are also both very influential and find it easy to change other people just by being around. They make each other feel safe to exercise the full breadth of their inherent power without the threat that this would affect the other in any way.

The fact that they are both doms, however, makes them incompatible long-term as sexual and romantic partners, even though they adore each other and probably do sleep together often. It’s a fact they are both aware of– though I am unsure if they both feel the axact same way about it. I change my mind often about this. Is Minseok sadder than Jongdae about this? Are they both just Fine? Don’t know. I’m not a Xiuchenist for real, but I do believe in them! So, I find myself thinking about this often.

Jongdae, like Minseok, finds Baekhyun too much to deal with. But he finds Junmyeon funny and gets less stressed out about the fact that Junmyeon won’t let him help than Minseok does. Because Jongdae isn’t the pack leader and he’s younger, he finds it easier to insert himself into Junmyeon’s business and meddle sometimes, without stepping to hard on Junmyeon’s toes.

He is soft with Yixing, and is sad for him, but Jongdae is very strict with himself about things which he cannot change, so he doesn’t let himself dwell on this often.

It took him a few years to understand Chanyeol’s little neuroses but he did eventually, so now he knows how to care for Chanyeol and that satisfies him greatly.

He’s generally very gentle and full of advice and pets for all younger and older pack members.

He has a stroke of sadism in him, but it’s not consuming like Junmyeon’s is, and he’s Normal about it. It’s very to do with sex for him, rather than his personality.

Kyungsoo:

He’s an alpha, and he’s possessive as fuck. He’s also a very sensible person, and has decided very early on that he will not be getting romantically involved with any of his members because they’re all insane and they’ll drive him out of his mind if he wants to go full possessive alpha on them!

He does think Jongin is incredibly hot and is very soft with him. He’s also known to be soft with Sehun, though he’d never admit to it.

He’s a neutral party in the pack, though he has a deep sense of justice and will stand with whoever he thinks is wronged in an argument.

I don’t have many Ksoo thoughts, he gives me a headache, his personality is impenetrable! Sorry 🙈

Jongin:

You might have noticed I’ve not spoken much about him with the other members, and that’s because I firmly believe that, while he is a part of this pack, he’s bonded to Taemin. Taemin is his alpha, and they are each other’s persons. Jongin only spends heats with the pack when Taemin is unavailable.

In the Exo pack, Nini is soft and baby. He lounges over the alphas and scents the other omegas and takes care of them. But he’s also stubborn and strong, and because he’s been mated for such a long time, thinks that all the others and their weird relationship problems are so tiring and silly!

That’s why he gets on with Kyungsoo a lot. Kyungsoo does not have weird relationship problems, because he simply has no messy relationships in the band XD They get to make fun of the others from their little cocoon.

Nini knows how to depend on the others to help him, and he’s very good at being a stabalizing and sensible influence in the pack.

Him and Taemin make each other so much better, and take care of each other’s needs so well that Nini effectively doesn’t need a pack. They just add to his life and he adores them. It makes him a very steady presence.

Sehun:

He effectively takes the role of a pack omega but not because he needs it, because the pack does. It’s good for them to have someone they can spoil and love this way. He gives them the opportunity of all feeling like they get to take care of him and be good for the pack by doing so; and by doing so, he gets to comfort them and take care of them without them feeling like they’re asking for care.

Sehun has large emotions about the pack, he needs all of them, and feels like they all need each other. He’s mostly quiet about it, though, he’s not a words person. He just flops in someone’s lap when he’s having emotions.

As in canon, he’s been in love with Chanyeol for years, but it takes them an insanely long time to work out what they are to each other. This lands Sehun in Junmyeon and Baekhyun’s beds often.

He’s an omega, but not a sub or a dom. Like Chanyeol, he enjoys toying with power dynamics broadcast trust. Though he would melt into the center of the earth if Chanyeol bit him and mated him. And he would die if Chanyeol had a collar on and let himself be ordered around by Sehun. It’s all very deeply unusual and not standard bdsm XD

I feel like I talked about Sehun’s relationships with the other members throughout the answer above, so I won’t repeat them here!

Anyway… wow that was long. Anon, I am so sorry if this is way more than you expected!!! I hope you enjoy it regardless!!!!!!!! I have many thoughts about this, clearly! XD

#cake answers #exo meta #wow that was so fucking long #I have many exo emotions!

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