#writing is one of my favorite and most frustrating joys and i wish you had the chance to understand that

[gentil-minou]

why are you making such a big deal about people using ai to write fics lmao you act like its the end of the world. i do it and no ones caught on. there’s bigger things to cry about.

In a few years when you realize how much your "works" lack the intricacies and soul and depth of emotions that make us human, I hope you remember this and use it to grow.

I assure you, the person who is suffering the most from your use of an artifical generator to "write" and "create" is yourself.

I'm mourning the loss of someone who had the potential to use their real experiences and imagination to create something that touches others. I'm sad for you and the way you won't understand the struggle of creating art, and miss the most valuable lesson of all which is that the struggle is what makes art so incredible, so real, so human.

I'm sorry that you think a glorified search engine is a better writer than your own skills. I like to think I would have liked reading what you'd actually write. I think a lot of people who have appreciated that more. I'm sorry that you don't value your own skills enough, that you don't believe you're good enough to write on your own.

I'm sorry that you want so desperately to be liked and clicked on and praised that you are willing to lose what makes you you in favor of hollow attention that will undoubtedly fade away into nothing but empty words from an empty soul

I hope in ten years you realize what you lost by using a machine to regurgitate someone else's words for you. I hope that before then you create something that's all your own, that you share it the way art was meant to be created and shared. That you let yourself truly be heard.

[prolix-yuy]

Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

i’ve still been a little brooding about ted/rebecca (i guess this is my prolonged grieving era as i adjust to it all being over and what we got being what we got!), and for some reason today it’s been making me think a lot about jack/liz from 30 rock, which might be my favorite example of a male lead/female lead platonic relationship that i took great joy in shipping over the years that the show aired.

(some more rambling under the cut!)

just, like. they shared scenes in every episode! their relationship grew so much! they had fights, they made up, they were there for each other, they drove each other crazy, they loved each other’s company, their significant others were weirded out by their closeness! and while the show always stayed in platonic land, it really seemed to have fun flirting with the idea of jack/liz as a romantic pairing, in a way that was extremely silly but also didn’t seem cruel. like, it always felt like the show kinda had fun with the idea of shipping it too, even though it didn’t want to go down that path. maybe it’s that, unlike with ted and rebecca, the 30 rock writers weren’t scared that people might ship jack/liz and so they didn’t try to stop giving them material together?? 🤷‍♀️

i would have loved to get to see a ted and rebecca friendship that was even a fraction that complex and rich! the thing that makes me the saddest is just that i wish they’d had way more screentime together, and i wish their relationship had been explored in a way that was more thorough and more multifaceted and more fun.

oh!! i continue to just be so bummed that they wound up getting so little screentime and growth after season one. you can write a really great platonic love story between your male and female leads, but i don’t think this show did it! i am still not entirely sure what they did, honestly. i think they were like ... friendly work acquaintance unwitting soulmates who saw each other every few episodes, usually briefly, and also he made her biscuits almost every morning for three years and brought them to her in a little pink box but not in a romantic way?????? is that a thing?????? it is now. the ‘potential happy couple, wrong timing, soulmates who never knew it’ bittersweet read of their whole arc throughout the show makes the most sense to me in terms of what their whole thing is. but it still frustrates me on a purely ‘but i wanted to see them share more screentime together and matter more together after season one!’ level.

oh, me. oh, tedbecca nation.

what if i rewatched 30 rock even though i just rewatched 30 rock

[stuiie]

hi! *Waves a bit shyly* I just wanted to say I've really been enjoying your fic, the color of you!! I found it while scrolling yesterday and started it at some point and was barely able to put it down, only pausing for things I had to do XD I ended up staying up late after some events and reading it and before I knew it it was 5 am, I could hear the birds chirping and I could barely keep my eyes open hehe. Made it through chapter fourteen though, huzzah!

You're writing is truly a joy to read and I really love how you've crafted the story! I honestly have ended up seeing myself reflected in Ducky in ways I wasn't expecting and it's made me ponder on some things heh (/positive). I appreciate the patience and effort you put into the slow burn!! I truly enjoy build up to relationships and the wait has been truly worth the reward as I'm arriving to the part where Ducky is actually entering into the relationship! I really appreciate the thought and kindness and heart you've put into some pretty hefty topics as the story progresses, and really enjoyed how you portrayed it narrative wise (my main thoughts especially being on her working through her lack of attraction towards the guy/men and her frustration over it, something I've also been dealing with lately ahah, so it was actually really nice to read someone uh. Also upset over a lack of 'normal' feelings so to speak, and over similar things (though thankfully a much kinder situation in my case). And the other being how you handled Nat confessing! It made a lot of sense for her to be morally distraught over her attraction to her, and I love the grace in which you wrote those emotions and experience!)

I've also enjoyed the ability to project a little neurodiversity onto y/n, whether or not that was intended! Its always quite nice to feel kindred in that way in regards to y/n's and honestly some of my favorite fics have that element to them. Anyways uh! Wonderful story so far! Can't wait to read more but also dreading catching up bc then I'll have to wait and be patient tehe (/silly). Thank you so much for sharing it!!

~ @anactualwolverine

Hi there sweet anactualwolverine,

Aaah, my teeth hurt from how incredibly sweet you are. Your words hit me right where I needed it the most, and knowing you enjoy the story so much fills me with such warmth. All I wanted was to create a healing fic, one for all of us who just want to feel that comfort and kindness. But I do hope you got some well-deserved rest after reading so many chapters; I'm impressed you powered through to chapter 14 😍.

It really does something to me when I get messages where you and others can see yourselves in Ducky, and I hope it brings you some comfort to know you aren't alone. Ducky is special to me, and I have to admit I wish she were real so I could hug her. I love writing Natasha and Wanda caring for her.

And yes, Ducky's journey to self-discovery and attraction was a delicate process and something I struggled with a lot when I was younger. I wanted to shed light on the inner thoughts and feelings that can go through your head during that journey. Again, it makes me so happy that you share your thoughts on this, how you've experienced it, and can relate. It warms my heart.

Oh, and it pleases me so much that you highlight Natasha's confession and the struggles she had with her feelings for Ducky. It's something I had hoped would come through in a good way. So thank you truly for sharing your thoughts on it.

I wish you the best week, and thank you again for taking the time to send me this absolutely lovely message.

[hexxgirlthorn]

task #003: absence

fuck you.

i'm writing this instead of a new song for the band and i bet you fucking love that. i bet you're so happy that my pen is taking a break from scorching your ass in my music. i bet you love that i burn you and what we had over and over and over again with the songs i write. knowing you, you actually have the nerve to brag that there are songs out there written about you. you've always loved being the villain in my story. the one that stabbed lilith in the back.

when i was in rehab i was told this was a way to really get my frustration off my chest--a letter. i didn't want to write to you then. i don't really want to write to you now. but i can't seem to get out of this long spell of writers block without attempting so here i am. you'll never get this because i can't even try to send it to you if i wanted to, and honestly? good. fuck you. you never deserved my words. you still don't. every sentence, every word, is wasted on you and i can't seem to stop myself from writing this anyways. i hear your laughter, your anger, your joy, sadness, desperation, moans, and disgust as i write this. it's like i'm in your shitty ass apartment all over again, snorting whatever we could get our hands on while i'm ignoring calls from the girls. fucking and fighting and tearing each other down until you somehow gain the upper hand, i'm crying, and then in your arms yet again. the cycle just kept repeating, huh? you loved that. you loved building me up and breaking me down so many times that i lost who i was for a while. you loved the fact that you stranded me in your storm with no way out.

i'm fucking ruined because of you, but you already know that. you chanted it before, you sang how good it felt to fuck me up. the most fucked up part? i let it happen and i fucking loved it. every bruise, every emotional scar....i used to miss that shit. but you know what i missed the most? the drugs. the sex. the alcohol. the holy trinity of our relationship. i was clean before you. i had hardly drank before you. now i can't seem to cope with shit without having you follow me around still. i bled for you so much that now my blood is a part of you. i'll admit, the songs were fucking bangers. fucking batshit and some even fan favorites. i hate that. i hate that i have to play a song that i hate because they love it and they love you! the crowds fucking love you! no matter how fucked things got, no matter how honest i am in my music....they still fucking love you. you got your wish, you're immortal baby. i got scars on my body to prove it.

i used to love you. i think. i think you were the only thing i ever knew as love and that you were what made me think i could fall in love. now i know that love is just...not for me. you were my first love song. you were my only love song. how fucked is that? you fucking ruined my life. no matter where i go (which is fucking nowhere now) and no matter who i'm with...i have to be reminded that you fucking are still alive somewhere fucking some other young girl up who probably just wanted to share her music and her voice with the world too. someone who heard your scratchy ass voice at some cafe and got your number because you gave them that stupid drunk smile that could fucking ruin just about anyone. i have to remember that the only way i'm ever going to quit you is to start fucking over. i started over so many times and it always gets me back here. sneaking drinks, snorting a line or two when no one is around to get the creative juices flowing like you would say. losing my fucking mind because i can't seem to find my way back to myself. i really fucking hate you.

fuck you. this didn't make me feel better. this only reminded me that i am a product of you. that i am a bitch, i am closed off, and i will never connect with anyone outside of my sisters because of you. fuck you.

this is the last time i ever write about you.

-- sally

[rvnawaytrain]

👫 !!!

SEND 👫 FOR FOUR RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS | OPEN & ACCEPTING

*GRIPPING YOU SO TIGHTLY* Kit I love the sisterly bond Doe and Reese have, I can and will talk about them for hours, my babies, my daughters who are damned by the narrative!! I will bend so many rules so they know happiness on GOD!

Thank you so so much for the ask, I had so much fun writing this!

Doe gives, or rather gave Reese rides to school often! Either on the back of her bike or in the backseat of Doe's guardian's car! It's a little thing, but that's sort of the foundational pillar of the role Doe plays in Reese's life. She's maternal, but not a mom. Sisterly, but not her sister, unfortunately (though Reese really wishes she was). Doe is a babysitter and best friend, her wing man, confidant and maybe a bit of a role model (though Doe would be horrified to think of having THAT responsibility), she's not family but she's the family Reese needs, Reese deserves, and Reese WILL get.

It's like, it's best summed up by the Snowflake Ball in the Stranger Things verse. It was a real, foundational memory. Zoe, ever the romantic at heart, wanted to go so badly, two friends going together wouldn't be weird and they could dress up! It would be fun! Reese couldn't think of anything more miserable but Zoe's smile and her laugh, it seemed to bring sound into a world of silence. Reese wanted to make her happy and wanted to have fun with her, despite her nerves and the anxiety, and the knowledge of her mom and her presumed reaction to wanting to go to the dance. Day of, Reese was filled with nerves and dread, her mom didn't come through to help, but she never actually did. It was no surprise but it hurt, hurt BAD, not even Zoe's reassurance could dull the pang of 'the one time I wanted to do something, something SHE would have wanted me to do, and where is she?' running through her mind on repeat... then Doe came, Doe swept in rather like a whirlwind. ALL of her makeup, ALL of her (and Sally's!) hair stuff, accessories bundled in an old grocery bag and grin stretching into the sky. Doe was so ready, happy, excited to help the girls and doll them up for the occasion! She's been hoping for something like this! She'd even bought magazines for inspiration! The night went from anxiety and frustration, yet another ocassion ruined and one Reese was one foot out of the door from already: to one of fun and joy and stupid silly embarrassment at Doe's jubilation and the ridiculous lengths she went to make the night good. How the hell did she rope Tommy into this?! Was she blackmailing him? Reese laughed too loud at the sight of him in a paper faux chauffeur hat to question it. The night was saved, it was great, she felt loved and she quickly felt the pain from the rejection and worry move to the back, out of sight, out of mind.

That's sort of just how Doe's presence and joy shapes that space of pain and vacancy with Reese? Doe can't fix things, she can't save or stop Reese from being neglected by her mom, or singlehandedly end the rumor mill, but she cares for her without needing to be begged or thanked, it's an ease for her and the joy they have together doing that: caring for each other and being friends, it makes some of that pain float to the back of her mind.

Reese knows about Doe's preferred names in all verses, but especially verses where she hasn't lost her memory! (i.e Fear Street, FNAF, Stranger Things, The Lost Boys, etc.) and uses them thusly! However, after a particularly bad incident she learned about when Doe got 'caught' using one of her preferred names, Reese switched to using nickname work around in public settings! Like Snoopy! It's kind of how the nickname culture between them arose! Necessity born of compassion for Doe's situation (for the most part), turned to something funner and more loving that began being reciprocated! Doe is always trying a new nickname that starts with R with each conversation! Rockstar being Reese's least favorite, but something about the way Doe said it with the finger guns and big grin like she was so proud... dork!

There was a rumor for a while that Doe was so in cahoots and involved with Reese because she was actually after one of her brothers and trying to get to them through Reese. It uh, it was an obvious lie to anyone who knew them more personally. Doe never really paid much attention to Reese's other siblings except when giving them some of the 'care' Doe did for Reese (like leaving the food full of left overs that they could heat up later cause their mom didn't cook, or leaving their laundry folded in the basket too) I will say: Doe being closer in age to Tommy WOULD have opinions on him, but she never voices them, especially not around Reese. Does she sometimes think he's a bit of a shitty brother for leaving Reese in such a lurch and feeling more abandoned to face the rumours about him (stranger things, CFP too) and their parents neglect/unfair treatment? ABSOLUTELY. But Doe can recognize: she's not in the situation and she has her own hurt from being the left behind youngest child. It won't help to push that onto Reese, Tommy and Joey.

How did Doe and Reese meet? Though it changes in every verse, ofc, the uniting thread with all of them is Reese being left behind or getting into trouble. Falling on her face flat in the skatepark and scratching herself up bad with no adults around. Lost up in the branches of the tree, frozen in terror, shaking and completely disconnected with the outside world. Sitting on a bench kind of staring vacantly while the park around her is in celebration. Or waiting outside of the shitty school, no adults in sight while Doe is picking up her kid sister/Reese's low-key girlfriend. Reese is a kid left behind, but Doe is too, she can't justify leaving her to sink or swim and be another voice lost when people aren't willing to hear. Doe can hear, Doe is willing to hear, and happy to. Reese is a good kid, troubled but kind, it really hurts Doe to see just how little the world around her seems to care. The apathy and the ease of writing her off, it makes Doe angry, but it's a constructive anger. They won't see, they'll be willingly blind and deaf, but Doe will make sure Reese gets through. Reese will see a better day, and by the time the world starts to pay mind again: Reese will never look back at the audience that scorned her.

[setting-in-a-honeymoon]

Informally tagged by @earlgreytea68 when she did this game and encouraged people to steal it, so, here I am, being a little thief, to procrastinate :3

What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you've ever had?

Hmm maybe the idea that became Look at You and Smile. It's just soft and fluffy and fun, you know? Idk though, I've got a lot of fic ideas in my notes app/on my to-do list that might be strong contenders, like my Trojan War au and the conspiracy theorist radio fic.

What is your favorite part of being a writer? Which parts could you take or leave?

Um. Can I say writing for both?

I love the process of writing but also it is the bane of my existence, you know? When it goes as planned, awesome, but when it doesn't and I kind of want to tear my hair out, not awesome. And editing is fantastic, I highly recommend it, but it's also pain! Not gonna lie!

I will also say, I think it's frustrating when you try to get feedback from people and most of it amounts to they don't get your work. That might come off as pretentious, but I say this because last semester I was in a short story workshop, and some of the revision suggestions I got were really helpful, but some of the questions people had, especially about specific details I know I made clear in the story, made me want to roll my eyes and be like, "Did you even read it?"

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

Probably just creating the content that I want to see, and hoping other people will get as much joy out of it as I do. :)

What do you wish you knew when you first started out writing?

I don't really know? I think that any knowledge I have now, younger me wouldn't really know what to do with, you know? And uh. Thinking about that young adult Percy Jackson and the Olympians-esque novel I started writing in late elementary/early middle school. There's a lot of advice I could've given her. I would not know where to start. But I think it's probably better that I wrote the way I did and it's evolved into how I write now, so. Yeah, I don't know.

What is your favorite story you've written to completion? Link it if you'd like and can!

Right now, it's Look at You and Smile, mainly because the Tiny Dancer scene in that fic had been living in my head for so long, and I was so so happy when I typed it out and it came out exactly how I imagined it in my head. It made me feel like I'd been touched by the muses lmao. It was also really rewarding to finally write a fic I'd been tossing around in my head for (checks journals to make sure I have the date right) three years.

What is your favorite out of the box quote?

I'm gonna cheat a little bit and include two. First, from Don't Dare Stop:

But. They must’ve been working longer than Patrick thought, because it’s the beginning of golden hour, everything around them a little bit softer and fuzzier as the sun just barely starts to sink on the horizon. It’s enchanting the way a warm shower after a long day is, mundane and comforting. 

Patrick looks at Pete. Soft. Fuzzy. Enchanting.

And also, this one, from one of the later chapter in Guided to You:

“No, I mean it.” He takes Patrick’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend eternity with. If the afterlife weren’t real and reincarnation was what next, I’d want to be reborn with you every time.”

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

Probably Gerard in Head All Tangled Up, but that feels like a cop out, cause the way I wrote him is completely based on Dustin Hoffman's character in the movie that fic is based on, Stranger than Fiction (which I highly recommend, if you haven't seen it). Other than that, I don't think any of my characters have really had controversial mindsets.

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

Probably first, "Wow, no novels?" And then, "What? Fanfiction? About who? That band that wrote 'Alone Together?'"

I tag @revolvingresidency @carbonbased000 @ybcpatrick @inquisitiveheretic @shark-myths @pyrchance @realdreams @toorational

[inkskinned]

when i wrote this 2 years ago, i put in the tags the other thing that was happening: right before covid, i had changed my tune. instead of telling my students here is what you can't write, i asked them to please choose something that brought them joy. choose something beautiful. in college, i am not looking for a specific topic, there is no "winning" the essay, i am just making sure that you know how to format an essay and accurately cite your sources.

the world is pretty bleak right now, and many of my 19 year old kids are full of anger. my brother and i are teachers at the same time, but he is a professor in engineering. our colleges are owned by the same person. he calls me, frustrated, because he just got a student out of crisis, and now the financial aid office has sent the student right back into hell again. we talk about the administration being useless. we talk about feeling useless. we both say: i wish there was more i could do, but -

the world is pretty bleak right now, and i asked my kids to write about joy, because i couldn't stomach what is unsaid in the above post: kids were writing too much about gun violence. they were writing about blood smeared across the hallways of their middle schools. i would get essays about how they huddled under a desk while the bell rang around them, this strange and eerie tune. one of the only times i told my siblings out loud i love you was while we had an active shooter. i was locked in a friend's room up in a dorm while we all huddled around unwashed pastel dollar-store bowls. we called our families and loved ones. what else was there to do.

i couldn't read any more of those accounts. how cowardly.

i wish i could say i was braver, that i heard the weight of what they were handling and was able to bear it, but it adds up. i had 50 to 100 students. every semester, at least 3 of them would have visceral memories of a school shooting. their friends and neighbors and loved ones. their hands shaking around their phone as they type out this message might be my last one. i couldn't read that and stay calm. i had to call my mom. sob to my therapist - how the fuck do i resolve that. how do i help them? we both still have to go to school in the morning - me and my students. how am i supposed to just read that and then go on and teach them about prepositions? i can't even promise they won't ever have to experience that again. i feel like we're just waiting for trauma and instead i'm showing them how to keep their commas in the right place. how the fuck do either of us navigate that space?

i forget it can be different. a few years ago, a series of roof tiles fell off our building and made a loud scattered popping noise when they met the ground. i remember the strange accidental culture shock: most of my students went quiet and flattened to the floor; i leapt up and & turned off the lights & shoved my desk against the door. there were three kids who hadn't been raised in america. i remember the look on their faces; shocked and confused, nervously laughing because they hadn't assumed a threat. the gentle hands of their american friends helping them get down; shushing in a way i can only describe as kind, sympathetic. one of my students whispered you get used to it.

how can i see how they are suffering and then still ask them such an incredibly selfish request: please just write something about love, about joy, about something that reminds you of passion.

i get novels in return. technically, i have a page limit, but i never enforce it. every semester, students are delighted by the prospect. i get essays about being a dog show judge and about the history of the throw rug and about how prismacolor chooses certain paints. about glitter controversies and about their favorite albums and their role models who helped them come out as gay. students came in with visuals and little movies they made. they would go above and beyond just to ask their heroes i have this assignment. will you tell me about what joy means to you? i have records of interviews from writers and tv producers and youtube stars. i hear stories about tracking down the recipe for their grandmother's soup and making bread with their uncle and learning about dance from other cultures. they put their whole heart into it.

i said: this is just for your freshman english class! you do not have to try this hard! i am just one teacher in a million!

my students looked up to me, coated in the viscera and insincerity of their lives; this harrowing space so slick with their own mortality, their childhoods never awarded to them. they do not have the same promise of future. they have never assumed they would live forever. love is not in an arrow-speared heart for them; it has always been too fleeting to tattoo. if they catch it, they release it back into the wild, horrified by how little territory it has left. they wish it well but do not keep it for long. they have always been aware of the cost of their own body.

and they said: it brings me joy, which means it's time well spent.

something about that. something about the fact they can find it anyway: i wish i could write each of them my own essay, and it will be full of all the words you're not supposed to use. ribs and teeth and middle fingers. i wish they related to that, that in their heart were only poems about falling asleep and soft blankets and galaxies. every rainbow peony cliche. i wish i could hold their hand and push the desk in front of the door and say: i got you now. it's gonna be okay.

i wasn't supposed to write about roses or blood or silver, about hearts or wings or galaxies; my teacher used to press her hands, firmly, to the top of our poetry stacks and beg us - love different. she was bored of it. i'd go home and write something with each of her off-limits words, emboldened by spite.

for a stint of time, i was a reader for a poetry magazine, shifting through thousands of submitted writings, each hopefully printed onto my tiny laptop screen for next-submission-viewing. one editor had a pile where we would put all the poems with parsnips or cauliflower, one pile for long-thin emergency rants that devolved into a blank scream, one pile for mentions of belladonna and chartreuse - for a whole year, i'd go to bed hearing chartreuse and silver and cities playing in my head in calligraphy. every three months, the beautiful public eye would become just-fascinated by pretty things. unusual, beautiful monstrosities. one winter, all about daises. the next, a fascination with posies. i watched the world spin from catching love in language to the same five phrases - help, it's ending, i'm alone, help, it's dark here, come home, help -

later, as an english teacher, i saw patterns. every semester, one million essays about four specific things. it wasn't pretty enough to be a teachable moment: the content they wanted to discuss was all extremely violent; a broken anthem of climate change and constantly being videoed is destroying us. i would wake up shaking, worried their visions were prophetic, soon-to-be-true. selfish, i couldn't handle the constant semester-to-semester panic they scribbled into six paragraphs, MLA-formatted text. read the world is ending fifty times every month; sob to your therapist i'm not doing enough, tell your students: please, no more violence, i don't have the right stomach.

each one seemed the same poem: we're dying, and nobody is coming to save us.

there are very few celebration poems these days. i want to rest my hand on a stack of poems about love in big red wings. love in a jacket, standing under an open galaxy. love written on the bicep, in an anatomically correct heart, with an arrow shot through the center so you can see the pink viscera of surviving a wound - so you know that even permanent tattoos are permeable. blood on the snout of a newborn lamb. silver rings around the pink scales of a pigeon's leg, and love with her hand around the ribs of a bird. i want to read boring essays about lunch. about which video games run the best graphics. about carnivals. about love in big cliche terms: standing in a garden of parsnips, clutching daises to her chest, eating raw meat over the body of a rich man.

i want to open the poetry magazine and have pages of sonnets about bluebells. about survival. about a mundane, beautiful spring. about sitting with your dog on a front porch, writing without spite, happily toying with the idea of ice cream.

my student sends me an email. i know you said to write about what brings you joy. but nothing really makes me happy these days. i don't know what i'm doing.

[dkehoe]

Math Professor, Catherine Lipton has a plan for everything but when she starts a new job and her identity disappears she doesn’t even know where to start to get her documentation put back into the system. She reluctantly accepts help from her frustratingly laid-back doorman Luca Morelli. With his help she finds herself breaking the rules, meeting mysterious strangers, and generally having a great time. As she unravels the truth behind her identity disappearance she realizes that she may have been missing for a lot longer than she realized. The publisher has described this book as being for readers who are fans of Sophie Cousens and Ashley Poston, and you know what? They were exactly right! I like both of those authors and I really enjoyed reading this novel about Catherine’s journey with the help of her very charismatic doorman Luca. Melissa Wiesner did a great job of showing Catherine’s growth from straight as an arrow professor to a more open to anything lady who is drawn to someone who seems to be her complete opposite. This novel had one of my favorite things that I usually only find in small town romances. A fun, quirky cast of characters. I think because a lot of the story involves the building that they live in that building became the small town and each of those residents were fun, funny, and just plain lovely. Of course, they were all geriatric, so no chance of a second book in the series about one of the other characters in the book, but they added such joy to the novel. It’s funny because in real life young people don’t seem to tolerate the aging generation but in the best romance novels some of those older folks become my favorite characters. There were quite a few in this book. The romance between Catherine and Luca wasn’t without its frustrations, but the story is what pulled this book together and gave it the gravitas needed to feel complete. The romance was just kind of a side note so please don’t think this is going to be a steamy novel. It’s not, but Catherine and Luca do provide enough sizzle to bring a romantic feel to the pages. That part of the story in my eyes isn’t the most important it was the sense of family and feeling like you belong that struck home for me. I liked this novel and hope this author will continue to write and give us a second book to look forward to! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I received a copy of this book through NetGalley for an honest review and it was honest! Click this link to purchase this book!* Wish I Were Here Copyright 2024 The Reading Chick All Rights Reserved *Amazon Associat- if you purchase this book through the above link I’ll receive a small stipend.

[cherrybomboyfriend]

prince of egypt prince of persia prince of paris, you’re the prince of serving me poison on the terrace

may 10th, 2024.

listening to my current favorite song while crying over a possibility of me being talentless. i hate asking other people for opinions on my art because it fucking wrecks me whenever i get criticized for it. i’ve always thought that i was some artistic genius so whenever people tell me that im not it slams cracks into the foundation of my entire body. my desire for expertise will tear me apart. a girl in sophomore year told me that my poetry was bad and it caused me to never write the same ever again. i used to be so innovative before she laughed at my work. now i can’t find myself anywhere near the amount of creativity at that point in my poetic journey. every time i go a little abstract i slide my tail between my legs and stare at the ground. what if i am nothing? i’ve been making music for around a year now and it’s been the funnest yet scariest experience ever. i really fucking like making music. i’ve had a lot of medical complications over the past two years so creating art has helped me immensely. i feel myself starting to fall in love with producing and making little melodies over my computer-born beats. despite this honeymoon phase i still have moments of frustration. i needed help to see which version of my second verse for this song sounded better so i asked my friend for help. she told me that it sounded weird and tried to tell me how to fix it (which annoyed me to the gods), so i sent her a song of reference (being the song that i mentioned at the top of this text) for her to get my point. she listened to the song then proceeded to say “that sounds good, but whatever you’re trying to do doesn’t. it won’t sound like that at all.” which made me burst into tears! i slammed my macbook shut and buried myself into the covers. i don’t want anyone to see me anymore. you don’t think my art has potential? fine! then maybe i should just go fucking kill myself! i’ll end my fucking life if that’s what you want! since the thing that brings me the most joy humiliates me then i deserve to swing from the ceiling by sweaters ive crocheted but never sold. play these awful fucking tunes at my funeral since i apparently suck at making them. read aloud the poetry i wrote when i was 15 for everyone to hear and coil up in disgust at! i don’t care! i wish that criticism of my art didn’t affect me so much i pretend that it doesn’t to seem well put together but it does. everything hurts me. i said that i was falling in love with the new song earlier but now i look at it like a lost child. you disgust me. you do nothing good. you’re going nowhere in life. get out of my garageband library. you’re not allowed to come back until you make a name for yourself. until you make me money. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. i love you. you’re my baby. you came out of my sweaty pointer fingers. i’ll never leave you. here, i’ll sing you my favorite song, the one that inspired you.

Prince of Egypt, prince of Persia, Prince of Paris

You’re the prince of champagne and sunning on the terrace

You’re the prince of bubble bath, the crush i have is terrifying

Suffer, but i bear it. i know love will tear us apart again

LOVE WILL NEVER TEAR ME AND MY MACBOOK APART AGAIN!!! ILL BURY MYSELF WITH THESE TUNES AND MY BAD POETRY.

[oh-great-authoress]

🌹🌹🌹tell me of your wips dear

@batmantaking-hobbits2gallifrey

Ohhhh, Elli, you do not know what you have asked for.

I now unleash Silmarillion-esque deep dives upon you!!!!

Three Roses, three WIPs…

So you will get information about three of my WIPs, and here we go!

I’m so happy to talk about these.

Benjamin Solo and the Shadow of Death

This is a Reylo and Gingerrose (Armitage Hux/Rose Tico) Grantchester/1950s AU where Ben and Armitage, formerly Kylo Ren and The General, the most feared enforcers of the Knights of Ren, are now Church of England priests after a St. Paul-esque come-to-Jesus moment.

However, their past is coming back to bite them in the ass, throwing a wrench, or rather, a spanner, into every aspect of their lives.

In this story, Rey is the vicarage’s industrious housekeeper, and Rose is the town mechanic’s daughter, a mechanic herself, while Ben is the Vicar and Armitage the Curate.

This story started as an imagine I sent to @galacticidiots, but then I couldn’t shake the idea, and it percolated for nearly two years, until I decided that, like Gandhi said, I had to “Be the change [I] wish to see in the world”, and write the darn thing.

This was/is a passion project for me, and there were moments that I was so worried I’d end up abandoning this story, but luckily, I’m stubborn as all heck, so I plowed on through months of writer’s block.

But despite all the frustration this story gave and still gives me, this story has also given me so much joy, especially when the scene bits (both for Armitage, actually) which I was so proud of and came up with in the two years where the idea lay percolating, made it in the story, which literally made me do a little happy dance in my chair.

Those bits would be the scene where Armitage gets engine oil on his shirt, and Rose tells him to take it off so that she can soak it in her family’s secret formula of stain remover (*snort* yeah, I went here), in this chapter, and the scene where Armitage kicks the town drunk’s ass after he shoves Rose to the ground, in this chapter.

And while this story is still very PG-13, at the end, this is going to be the steamiest thing I have ever written, with use of very, very tasteful fade-to-blacks.

I actually have one of the two fade-to-blacks written (it’s so romantic), with the other one a problem-for-future-Nadia, though the idea is nebulously present in the electric meat.

I am personally so proud of my characterization in this story, and I think that this story was key to my growth as a writer.

It forced me to stretch both my research skills, with the 1950s setting, and my writing skills, as it made me write scenes which I never thought I would ever be able to pull off.

And it still is stretching my writing skills, because I have some very tricky scenes to work through in the upcoming chapters, which will have elements that I do not think are my specialty.

But when this is over, this will be, I think, one of my most favorite stories I’ve written.

I’d like to think that this story has everything, with romance, action, snappy dialogue (I think this story has some of the best dialogue I’ve ever written), comedy, and drama.

(Divider via @delishlydelightfuldividers)

Okay, let me preface the next two WIPs with saying that I never thought I’d end up writing them.

But honestly?

I probably should have seen it coming.

Almost two months ago, I watched “Top Gun: Maverick”, and I absolutely loved it.

And I tried not to devolve into a hyperfixation, but… I just couldn’t.

I mean, for me, the movie had everything; found family feels, dysfunctional father-son road trip vibes, Pathetic™ men ready to be Blorbo-fied, action, comedy, and impressive visuals.

(Am I counting the shirtless beach dogfight football scene as part of the impressive visuals?

I’ll leave that up to you.)

And with me already being an aviation enthusiast, or avgeek, this was bound to happen.

Anyway, this stupid plane movie (affectionate) has had a chokehold on me for the last nearly two months, and I managed to keep it mostly tamped down here on the hellsite, because I was a little ashamed of how easily my brain plunged into a hyperfixation—hypocritical, I know, on the hyperfixation site—but now, the dam has burst, and I’m just going to own it from here on out.

These stories will not make sense at all if you haven’t seen the movie, so here’s the link to the Wikipedia page, so you can get an idea of what I’m talking about.

I also highly recommend looking on YouTube for clips of the movie, because… okay, yeah, I’m trying to drag you down with me, I’ll be honest.

(Sharing is caring?)

So here we have two of my Top Gun: Maverick WIPs…

Prank War

This is the tentative synopsis: “It was getting a little bit chummy here at NAS North Island, so Jake had a genius idea.”

Basically, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, reformed jerk extraordinaire, has the genius idea to start a prank war between him and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, which does not go well at all.

One thing leads to another, and someone ends up strung up by the Naval Air Station’s flagpole, in a coup de grace.

This is pure crack, and even I burst into laughter when I read my own opening scene, because it’s just so hilarious, and, in my opinion, perfectly in character.

Here’s the opening scene:

(Warning: a little cursey)

“Fuck my life.

Fuck my fucking life,” Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson muttered to himself, as he stared at the report before him in despair.

“Become an Admiral, they said—it’ll be fun, they said,” he continued, aware he was sounding like he was a few screws short of an F-18.

But in his opinion, it was completely acceptable—he had to get it out somehow.

“You’ll just have to sign a few things here and there, but you’ll be able to have more time to yourself.

Meanwhile, I’m here, dealing with fucking infants when I could’ve been flying still, exactly like Maverick.

Well—maybe not exactly like Maverick, I have some sense of self-preservation—but anyway.

‘Best aviators the US Navy has to offer’, my ass—more like two-year-olds, all of them.”

From there, we flashback to all the pranks, until we end up back with Admiral Simpson.

I still, sadly, have to figure out how to properly end it, but I’m still waiting to finish my Grantchester/1950s AU to really work on this and the next story anyway, so I’m not rushing myself…

Finally, the piece I am most excited and embarrassed to talk about:

What Am I Doing

That’s literally the working title, because I was working on Benjamin Solo and the Shadow of Death, when this idea barged in like this:

So thusly the name.

I am actually actively trying to come up with an actual title for this that is not borne out of my frustration at myself for acquiring another WIP.

However, the subtitle, which is actually going to be put on the fic title or the synopsis, is: “It’s the Great Karmic Bitchslap, Jake Seresin!”

Which is a play on “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”.

I honestly have no idea how I ended up with this, but I think, to my knowledge, it was born out of a desire (as these things often are) to torture and torment Jake Seresin.

Because, other than Bradley, and Maverick, to some extent, we don’t know anything about the families of the other pilots of Dagger Squadron.

So I thought, what if Jake had a twin sister?

And what if she ends up falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw?

“Jake would absolutely hate that,” I thought. “I love it.”

But since I’m not entirely heartless, I give Jake his very own romance plot, with Natasha “Phoenix” Trace.

(Hannix shippers, this one’s for you)

So, here’s the plot.

In the middle of the night, Jake wakes up to a call from base gate security: it’s his older twin sister, Anastasia, and his nephew, Lucas.

They’re on the run from Anastasia’s ex-husband, whom she divorced and had her marriage annulled a year ago.

However, her ex is an A-grade crazy psycho, who stalks and follows her and her son no matter where they go.

So she goes to her brother, figuring that since he lives on base, she and her son would be safe.

Here, she meets Maverick and the rest of Dagger Squadron (now a permanent squadron based out of North Island, thanks to the success of the uranium mission), including one Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.

Circumstance then throws the two even further together when a regulation indicates that she and Lucas cannot stay with Jake.

(Hand wavey contrivance, I know)

So out of the goodness of his heart, Maverick offers to put up the mother and son at his large house behind his hangar (which is widely accepted fanon, since we did not see anything of the sort in the movie), which is sort of off the grid, where—wouldn’t you know it—Bradley is also living, so he and Mav can spend more time together; after all, they have fifteen years to make up for.

Bradley and Anastasia soon grow close, much to her brother’s chagrin, all while Natasha is laughing her head off, as she fills in as said brother’s voice of reason, because this is karmic justice for all the women Jake’s picked up in bars.

There’s a scene I wrote last week which I am already in LOVE with, and I—it’s just so sweet and romantic—it’s EVERYTHING.

I couldn’t even believe my luck when I remembered the PERFECT song for said scene—I mean, the lyrics are just EXACTLY what the scene needed, and the lyrics are just SPOT-ON.

I tell you, it felt/feels inspired.

And I am so grateful that I know/grew up listening to old songs, because this song would never have occurred to me otherwise.

Some background on this scene: it’s the day of the Navy Gala, and Anastasia is supposed to go as her brother’s plus one, she even bought a dress and everything.

But then, just before she was going to get ready, her son had an accident and broke his arm, which meant that she had to take him to the hospital, and she was unable to go.

(Which will end up being good for Jake and Natasha)

This scene takes place at the end of the night, after Bradley returns home.

(I have yet to decide if Mav and Bradley will go home at the same time.)

As a side note, Bradley will be wearing dress whites, not blues, because… well, just because, “cover” is the fancy military term for the uniform cap, and I see Anastasia, or, as Bradley calls her, Ana, as Leelee Sobieski in my head.

Here’s the scene:

(Warning: 100% fluff)

“How’s Lucas?” Bradley asked, setting his cover onto the kitchen island.

“He’s sleeping—they gave him the good stuff at the hospital.

Thanks for asking.”

He nodded. “That’s good.”

“How was the gala?”

He cringed slightly. “Ehh—the usual—lots of boring self-congratulatory speeches before we get to what people actually came for; the open bar and the free food.”

“Was it any good?”

“Yeah, it always is, though I think it’s pretty hard to screw up pasta.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ana smiled.

“Jake?”

“Me, actually, the first time I tried to cook spaghetti and meatballs.”

He frowned, “I don’t believe that, you’ve been spoiling Mav and me the whole time you’ve been here.”

“Believe it, Lieutenant.”

Something almost vaguely familiar briefly clouded his expression, before it cleared, and he continued, “Yeah, anyway, the food was good, though it wasn’t a patch on what you dish out, and… Jake missed you, said he was hoping the two of you could’ve had a night out.”

“Jake, huh?”

Bradley rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, he pissed Nat off enough to make her drag him to the dance floor herself.”

Ana looked down, her hair falling into her face, “To be honest, I was actually hoping to go tonight.

It’s been… a while since I went to a party.”

“Gala, actually—the Navy’s quite particular about not calling it a party.

Got to be respectable and all that,” he grinned.

“Oh, sorry—gala,” she laughed. “Anyway, it would’ve been nice to dress up, and—” she sighed, “this is going to sound so stupid.”

“Tell me anyway?” he earnestly asked.

“I… I’m feeling bad that I wasted all that money on a dress I didn’t even end up wearing, and—God—I wanted to dance.”

Ana looked down embarrassedly, running a hand through her hair.

“That’s not stupid.

That’s normal.”

She looked up at him, a little startled.

Bradley worried his lower lip between his teeth before she saw an idea literally occur to him, the only thing missing, the lightbulb over his head. “It doesn’t have to be wasted.

Go put that dress on, and meet me down here.”

“What are you planning, Bradley?” Ana shook her head.

“Since you couldn’t go to the Navy Gala, the Navy Gala comes to you.”

An incredulous gasp escaped her. “You going to ask me to dance, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” she asked, a stupid smile on her lips, tears in her eyes.

“Well, I am still in uniform, and… yeah, I am.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go—I’ll be waiting,” he nodded encouragingly.

She couldn’t keep the smile from widening to a grin as she went upstairs, pulling the box from the dresser.

She quickly washed her face, before putting on mascara and lipstick, and slipping into the dress.

When she looked in the mirror, even though she wasn’t wearing anything close to the full makeup look she had planned to if she’d gotten to go to the gala, she felt beautiful in a way she hadn’t in a very long time, and tears threatened, but she ruthlessly pushed them back, as she gathered her hair into a loose bun, and stepped into her well-worn black heels.

She crept out of her room and made her way downstairs, where, true to his word, Bradley was waiting, at the foot of the stairs, cover tucked under his right arm, looking every inch the dashing naval aviator and officer he was, in his dress whites.

He looked up at the sound of her heels on the stairs, and an awed expression came over his face.

“Wow,” he breathed when she was a step away from him. “You look amazing.”

Ana sheepishly smoothed the deep green silk with her palms, as she stepped down the final step. “The makeup and hair’s not what I was planning for tonight if I got to go, but I didn’t want to keep you waiting too long.”

“I’d have waited if you wanted to do all that.”

Ana’s jaw slacked a bit, and he continued, “But you—you look stunning.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

Bradley offered his arm, with a “Shall we?”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, and they moved out to the backyard, Bradley even bothering to wear his cover for the short walk to the pergola a ways from the back door.

“I’m going to be the envy of everyone at the gala,” he proudly murmured as they walked.

“It’s only the two of us,” Ana shook her head.

“Still,” he breathed, with an honesty she hadn’t heard from a man in years.

Once they were under the string lights, he stepped away from her to place his cover on the patio table which had been pushed to the side, along with the chairs, to create a makeshift dance floor.

Bradley pulled his phone out from his pocket and fiddled with it for a beat, looking for something.

Eventually, he found what he was searching for, and with a final tap, he set the device down beside his cover.

The strains of Orleans’ “Dance With Me” filled the air, and Ana smiled for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

He turned to her, hand extended. “Will you do me the honor of this dance, Miss Seresin?”

“I will, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

She placed her hand in his, and he took her in his arms, as they began to sway slowly on the floor.

I still have to write basically 98% of this story, but this scene, and a couple of other bits and pieces, including the opening scene, and Bradley’s first glimpse of Anastasia, are written out.

However, while I always tend to give myself room to change things, I am absolutely certain that this dance scene is going to make its way into the final product hook or by crook, darn it.

It’s just… GAH, I love this scene so much.

I was grinning like an idiot while I wrote it, and I still do, when I read it.

I’m truly sorry if that comes off as narcissistic, I just—AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the look into my WIP folder, and all the word-vomit, Elli!!!

Thank you and God bless you if you managed to read all this, truly—I know it’s a LOT!!!

[undertale-data]

[Image Description: an Undertale chat box with the name "PAPYRUS", in all caps and Papyrus font, in its center. On its left is a talksprite of Papyrus sweating anxiously, and on its right is a talksprite of Papyrus wearing sunglasses. End I.D.]

The Great Papyrus is the most popular Undertale character among the fans surveyed here. 19.6% of responders chose him as their favorite. That’s a total of 519 fans! (Wowie!!)

Not all Papyrus fans are unified on his characterization, however. The most obvious divide was between fans who call him a “cinnamon roll” or “precious baby,” and those who find these takes infantilizing. A lot of people like the friendliness and optimism of this character, while others recognize this but highlight his maturity too. Fans who worry about his infantilization seem most concerned with how he can be portrayed as naive or dumb by the fandom. A portion of fans specifically mentioned this naivety as a point in his favor, though the marginally more popular take seems to be that he is not naive, regardless of how he first appears. This fandom divide seems to relate to Papyrus’s autistic or ADHD coding. Many fans relate to him as ADHD and autistic themselves.

Fans also related to him in his desire for friends. Many responders think of him as a friend and a comfort character, so at least in one way his wish has been fulfilled.

The phone calls were a major reason that fans said they felt connected to Papyrus. Thanks to these calls, he has the most dialogue of any character in the game. His humor and dialogue were often highlighted as favorite qualities.

While fans may disagree on some aspects of Papyrus’s personality, it is clear that his fans all value his optimism and kindness. His fans do not see his kindness as weakness. Many talked about the complexity of his character and the strength it took for him to show mercy to the player character, even when the player doesn’t show it in return. He believes in himself, and he believes in you! This kindness and trust has inspired his fans to be kinder themselves.

Papyrus fans were also drawn to his mysteriousness. Several responses pointed out that he is a more mysterious character than Sans, who is also often loved for his mystery. As shown in the phone calls, Papyrus will put on fronts depending on who he is around, making it even more difficult for fans to uncover his secrets. Some people in other sections of the survey found this frustrating, but Papyrus fans tend to see it as another point in his favor.

Among the greatest proportion of responses were from fans who couldn’t choose a favorite trait, or who just love everything about Papyrus. While these responses may be less lengthy, they are still as full of love as the essay-length answers. These responses tended to say phrases like “cool dude” or “Papyrus my beloved” or “THE GREAT PAPYRUS.”

(You were overcome by writing about such a handsome skeleton. He understands.)

Highlights: (under the cut)

Honestly Papyrus just feels like joy. Funny, incredibly kind, with a few mysteries/weird quirks about him that are fun to ponder over. I especially love how he often acts proud and self aggrandizing without putting others down, and in fact sometimes uses that to lift his friends up alongside him. You don't see this take on proud characters often.

Papyrus is strong. Strong in body, but also morally strong. He knows what is right, what it means to be merciful and kind, even in the face of danger or death. Some think him naive. And yet, even facing death and seeing the dust of those he knew, he did not falter or turn from his ideals of mercy and change for the better.

BECAUSE HE IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS

His optimism and his overall personality is endearing! You're always having fun with him :D

He's meeting all of my standards.

Papyrus is very under appreciated, and overlooked, and it's very frustrating to me—he's a complex character but people treat him like he's a baby!!! I like him because he's kind of goofy with how he talks and he's just very charming and kind.

He's weirder than Sans, and it wasn't acknowledged for years because he acts oblivious and dumb, even when he's clearly not. Quite frankly, I find it iconic. Also, his entire personality helps a lot.

I'm ND, trans, and projecting!

OK SO he's just a friendly guy!! A dude who likes cooking for his friends!! We love a hype man!! Also smart as hell and I feel like fanon majorly overlooks this. Making good, fun puzzles is HARD and setting up a flamethrower to go off wirelessly is complicated. Like even if that bridge puzzle didn't go off the components were complicated. Love that cool dude!!!!

I heavily relate to Papyrus as a character and consider him my favorite fictional character of all time. He is a very well-written and thought out character with several quirks and layers in his personality. It is headcanoned by some (myself included) that Papyrus may possibly be on the Autism Spectrum due to his nature, his interactions with others, and overall how he displays himself to the world we see.

I could talk about Papyrus forever, and you have made a grave mistake in allowing me to do so. He is a charming, strong spirited, well intentioned, complex character that is often wildly misinterpreted, and I think originally this is why I was drawn to him. He is presented as one thing and in fact acts as one thing (though not the same way as presented by fandom), and in reality when you look closer than you are meant to he is not, in fact, any of these things. It was intriguing to me. Secondly, and rather contradictorily, another thing that drew me to him is that he is very true to himself, when it comes to idiosyncrasies and moral values. It's true that he does not offer much in the way of personal backstory and feelings, but he offers very much indeed in the way of personality. What a guy! He wears silly crop tops and bright colors, he speaks in a manner specific to him that sometimes doesn't make sense, he cares about something or someone and goes whole hog with it -- he's passionate, damn it! I love him and his weirdo, goofy self with all my heart. He cares about other people to a fault, too. He would sacrifice everything to help someone, and his belief in the potential of both others and himself is indomitable. When faced with the responsibility of a kingdom, his friends gone, his brother lying to him, and himself all alone without a reliable support system, he recognized what he was facing and still bucked up and became determined to get through it. When faced with a murderous, over powerful enemy, someone who had killed many of his friends and fellow monsters, someone who had repeatedly been rude and borderline aggressive and showed no signs of stopping, he saw that they were having difficulty and offered to help and to care for them, and didn't regret his decision or change his opinion on what they needed and their potential for change, even when quite literally killed by them a moment after. Even in death, even directly after a betrayal like that, he never stops believing that they can get better, that anyone can be a good person if they want to be. That's important, I think; that concept of giving people the chances they need to grow and to change. I have a tattoo of that moment on my thigh, it's that important to me. I guess I really like Papyrus because even though he is fictional, watching him out there makes it easy to believe in people, in our inherent goodness and desire to love each other. He makes it easy to see that we can change, that no matter what you've done in the past or who you currently are, no one is inherently a bad person, and no one is incapable of learning how to be a good one. It is just a step by step process that we have to take day by day.

[Image Description: A wordcloud shaped like Papyrus. His gloves, boots, and cape are red; his Battle Body is blue, yellow, and white; and his bones are white. Some of the most visible words are: Kind, Love, Good, Cool, Relate, Funny, Friend, Mystery, and Papyrus. These are the words that responders mentioned most in their essays about him. End I.D.]

Read the full list of responses shared with permission by clicking this link! (The document is 25 pages long, so you may want to make a copy to prevent lagging.)

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 12 & 13 | March 14th – March 27th

Welcome to weeks 12 & 13 of my recommendations, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #VelvetCardiganBucky, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.

Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.

✨Page breaks are made @firefly-graphics✨

«Last Week

Week 14»

My Masterlist

My Fic Rec List of Mafia/Mob Bucky/Sebastian & Steve/Chris/Andy

Stuff I Posted This Week:

Steve + Bey = 4Ever » Steve Rogers and Bey carved places in each other’s hearts, that no one else could ever replace.

I Hear A Symphony » Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader — Reader plays an important song to her for Bucky.

—Formerly The Winter Soldier » “I’m no longer the winter soldier, my name is James Bucky Barnes & you're part of my effort to make amends.”

Lee Bodecker

(Mini) Series:

*Give In by @not-a-great-writer » soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x shy!Reader — She didn’t think she was anything special. So when the intimidating Sheriff takes an interest in her, she can’t help but feel a little unsettled. Her boring life is about to get a little interesting. | This story has to be one of my all time series I’ve ever read, and I know I will weep when it’s over. The chapters are decently sized, you have angst, fluff and smut. I couldn’t ask for more, it’s simply a masterpiece.

Deadbeat Pt. 9 by @the-witty-pen-name » Lee Bodecker x F!Reader — You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room. | Cole thank you for feeding my current Lee Bodecker obsession after I watched The Devil All The Time, for the time. This story is good and I love soft!Lee, and one where no one dies. At least I hope no one dies...

SamBucky

One-Shots:

Loving You Is Cherry Pie by @river-soul » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — When Sam Wilson, one of your regulars at the cafe finally asks you out, you’re ecstatic until he tells you he wants his friend to join. When you meet Bucky, you decide it might be worth your while after all. [Allusions to stalking, exhibitionism and explicit sex, 18+] | There is just not enough SamBuck stories out there and we have @river-soul to thank for feeding our love for the boys and giving us some good smut, especially to tide us over till Friday.

Nothing Good Happens After 2 AM by @callmeluna » Sam Wilson x Reader x Bucky Barnes — You are admittedly a handful when you’ve had a few drinks in you. Luckily, your partners Sam and Bucky are more than up for the challenge… maybe. | If you are looking for something to make you laugh, might I suggest reading this? The whole time as I read this I couldn’t get the huge smile off my face, it was that good.

Bucky Barnes

Drabbles:

Matching by @heli0s-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Reader and Bucky are “matchy matchy,” with their belly button rings. | This is adorable as well as very funny.

One-Shots:

Smooth Criminal by @bestofbucky » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Based on a dream @velvetcardiganbucky had. You’re parents told you to never give rides to strangers, but when you notice Bucky Barnes trying to break into your car, you know some strangers aren’t so bad. | Jenny did my dream justice! I honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.

Don’t Over Do It by @whisperlullaby » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your boyfriend is an asshole. Bucky reminds you that you are perfect the way you are. | I can’t describe this anyway other than perfect, that I wish I had a Bucky like this there for me. Trust me you’ll love the ending.

Coming Home to You by @angrythingstarlight » Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your Biker boyfriend is finally home and he’s going to show you how much he missed you. With every inch he has. And you’re going to remember how much he loves you. | It’s not very often you read something that has an alternate ending and when you do you find yourself loving both endings. Both endings are hot, the smut is great, again who couldn’t love Biker!Bucky?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that. | Thank you so much for entering my writing challenge, it means so much. This one-shot is so good, it hit me right the feels and left me falling in love with Kori and Bucky.

Show Me How To Ride by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You’ve been keeping a secret from your biker boyfriend. He is going to get the information out of you one way or the other. | It’s hot and it makes you realize just how much you realize just how much you love Biker!Bucky.

Bubble Baths by @floatingpetals » Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU) — Even your boyfriend Bucky, needs to wind down at the end of a stressful with a bubble bath, but he doesn’t want to do it alone. | Okay, so my summary of this sucks but let me just say this is fluffy and smutty all at once. I wish I had Bucky to take a bubbly bath with.

Bad Boy!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader by @gagmebucky — in which there’s nowhere to sit and bucky offers his lap—then, subsequently, his cock. (bad boy!bucky x shy!reader, dirty talk, exhibitionism and voyeurism, cockwarming, unprotected sex.) | *chugs water* yeah is it a little hot in here? I probably would have failed class if Bucky had been in my class along with Steve, I wouldn’t have known who to stare at, forget learning the material.

**Greater Good by @fuel-joy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — There is a cure for the zombie outbreak but is it worth the cost. | Grab your tissues, because you are going to need them. Thanks darling for entering my writing challenge and making me feel so many feels with this one.

(Mini) Series:

A Tender Heart ♥️ Pt. 2 by @river-soul » Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader — You’ve been sweet on Bucky since you started working at the compound six months ago. Normally quiet and mild mannered, an unexpired fight with a coworker brings Bucky into your orbit. [A/B/O dynamics, brief mention of bullying and fluff] | If anyone can pull at your heartstrings it’s @river-soul making the beginning of this series look so promising and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

Run To You 🪙 Pt. 10 🪙 Pt. 11 🪙 Pt. 12 by @bestofbucky » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Bodyguard!Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. | Jenny left me at the edge of my seat, making this such an amazing story, I always look forward to her updates, and so sad that there is only 1 chapter left.

Better than Working sequel to This by @angrythingstarlight » Beefy Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Beefy Biker Bucky shows you all the benefits of working from home. In fact what he has for you is so much better than work. | Sometimes you just need to read something hot to lift your spirits, let this do that.

Stucky

One-Shots:

*Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again. | This is so hot that I highly recommend not reading this anywhere out in public. The smut in this is just *chefs kiss*

(Mini) Series:

Miracle Pt. 2 🥀 Pt. 1 by @heavenhatesme » Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader; Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When infertility threatens mankind with extinction and there hasn’t been a baby for almost 18 years, what happens when two certain super soldiers fall for the same woman and accidentally impregnate her? | It’s not tagged as dark, sorry to the writer I tagged it that please forgive me? But I just want to tell everyone heed the tags. I do look forward to reading what happens next. The smut in this is great!

Invisible Ink by @navybrat817 » Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers — The owners of the Howling Commandos Tattoo Parlor want to make you their best girl. | I love the idea of tattoo’d Bucky and Steve, but that's because I have a weakness for tattoo’s. So this series is just right up my alley, and the start of it is so good that I know it’s good to be a great one!

Steve Rogers

Drabbles:

Chocolate Milk & Dino Nuggets by @nony-bear » Steve Rogers x Reader — Daddy Steve helps make his little girl feel better after a long week. DDLG THEMES | Had me wishing I had a Steve to make me Dino nuggets after a long day at work. It’s precious folks.

Prompt 4K Drabble Challenge by @sweeterthanthis » Steve Rogers x Reader — “Show me how deep you can take it.” | You’re going to need an ice cold bath after this one.

One-Shots:

A Cruel Tide by @writerwrites » Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader — A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word? | Sometimes you want to wrap the reader and Steve in a blanket and protect them while enjoying the smut. This gave me that and more.

Untitled Request by @navybrat817 » Steve Rogers x Reader — Sending Steve a naughty photo while he’s in a meeting leads to punishment that will remind you to never do it again, right? | Hi, I’m just going to drench myself in ice cold water. ✌🏻

(Mini) Series:

*Control Pt. 3 🔐 Pt. 1 🔐 Pt. 2 by @river-soul » dark!Steve Rogers x Reader — When a probationary agent asks you out on a date you learn Steve’s intentions for you have evolved. He doesn’t take kindly to someone touching what’s his. [Noncon, physical violence (biting), grooming behavior and explicit sex, 18+] | Definitely one of my favorite series to read on Tumblr so far, you know it’s dark, and the smut is great. I always look forward to the updates on this one.

*Lipstick and Crayons 🖍 Ch. 4 by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob. | This story always gets my heart a racing and leaves you with questions as to what is going to happen next. I truly love it and Soft!Dad while being Angry!Mob boss Steve all at the same time, this story just has it all for me.

This Is My Unbecoming by @river-soul » Werewolf!Steve Rogers x Witch!Reader — When the Hydra pack graduates from turning humans to swell their ranks to kidnapping and murdering witches to consolidate power, Steve knows he needs to strike. He makes a deal with a powerful coven leader for a witch of his own in exchange for destroying the rogue pack. [Magical realism, biting, blood, slightly dubious consent and explicit sex, 18+] | Okay this is so good and I would like to thank the teenage mind of @river-soul for creating this! Like seriously thank you. I look forward to reading more!

It’s been a long, long time ☕️ Ch.1 by @mostly-marvel-musings » Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers – a man who has lost too much finds himself blending into the crowd in attempts to forget his past but revisits familiar places and spends days sketching his heart out. A rainy evening leads him to find shelter in your coffee shop. Is having meaningful conversations over endless cups of coffee with a stranger the key to unlocking a heart that’s lost the will to love? | The prologue tore my heart out, it truly did but the first chapter just puts the pieces back together. I really love this and I’m honestly looking forward to reading what happens next. I can’t thank you enough for entering my writing challenge!

*Not A Team Part: 1 by @shedobewritingalittle » Steve Rogers x Reader — The Reader tries to live a normal life, but her memories won’t leave her alone. Rhodey comes to visit the reader with a proposition. | There aren't a lot of stories out there that have walk on parts with Rhodey in it and I didn’t know how much I missed out on having him in stories till I read this. This was just so well written and the characterization of Rhodey was perfect, how Peyton got the emotions written across, it’s perfect. Read this and have some tissues on hand. I will always love it.

Andy Barber

One-Shots:

Closing Arguments by @river-soul » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy and you are going out for the first time since your daughter’s birth. Anxious about leaving her behind Andy does his best to make you feel better. [Fluff with explicit sex (f recieving), 18+] | So fluffy and sweet!

Keep the Heat by @ozarkthedog » Andy Barber x Reader — Andy fucks you in the coat. | Semi-Short and the smut is oh so good.

(Mini) Series:

Homebound 🏡 Ch. 1 by @fuel-joy » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — You witness your neighbor kill his wife. You try to gather evidence all from the comfort of your home. | Prepare to be at the edge of your seat with this one, it’s just that good.

One Night by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor » Dark!Andy Barber x Reader — One night changes your entire life. | This is dark and exciting, with tons of angst in it. I love a real good dark!Andy fic and this is it.

Chris Evans

One-Shots:

Mirrors by @cherrychris » Chris Evans x Reader — “wanna know what i see? me owning you and this sweet little pussy” | Sometimes you read things that just blow your mind and this was one of those things.

*Work Party by @harrylovex » Chris Evans x Reader — you get drunk at a work party and chris looks after you… | This is really adorable and probably one of my favorite fluffy Chris Evans one-shots I’ve ever read.

Misc.

One-Shots:

An Act of Kindness by @stargazingfangirl18 » Jake Jensen x Female!Reader — A simple act of kindness seals your fate. | I would like to simply start of by saying that this was my first Jake Jensen fanfiction in years, or maybe my first one, and all I could was where have I been hiding from him? So good and glad I read this and so will you!

*Come Back Safe by @celestialbarnes » Sam Wilson x Reader — based on tfatws, you find out sam’s leaving for a mission, afraid to lose the man you love, you confront him, and he promises you to come back. | So fluffy you’ll want to cuddle it under a blanket fort and wish under a thousand starry night skies for it to come true.

(Mini) Series:

Fiery Friends Pt. 3 🔥 Pt. 4 by @wanderinglunarnights » Johnny Storm x OFC!Sophia Jones — Johnny invites his best friend Sophia to stay with him in his penthouse during quarantine. | I really like this story, because I find myself mentally rooting for Sophia and Johnny, also going you go girl. Looking forward to what is next for this duo.

Ensnared Pt. 2 🔗 Pt. 1 by @stargazingfangirl18 » Ransom Drysdale x Female!Reader; minor Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Reader — Robert preps you for the handoff to the smooth talking stranger who bought you, but before he lets you go, he wants to have a little fun first. | So good and hot. Honestly I look forward to hopefully finding out what happens between the reader and Ransom.

Made With Love by @ayybtch » Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader + Friends to Lovers — Wanda is an excellent cook but a terrible baker. A rough day leads her to the bakery in the Avengers compound where she meets you, the lead baker. After a dismal attempt at making chocolate chip cookies, you volunteer to help Wanda learn how to bake. Your friendship grows stronger with each successful recipe until the two of you stumble into something even sweeter than baked goods. | This story will constantly have you smiling, sure it’s only 3 chapters so far, but I started off reading it in a bad mood but by the 3rd chapter I was just so sappy and happy. I can’t wait for more!

Without Me by CuttingMyFingersOff » Legolas x OFC!Braigeth — Braigeth was an elf who has nothing but memories of Legolas to help her survive being imprisoned in the walls of Orthanc. That is, until she is able to escape and reunite with him. | I’ve been invested in this since my friend came forward to me with the idea for this story and now that it’s being written, I couldn’t be more excited to read it. I need more Lord of the Rings in my life if I’m being honest.

Forever and Ever More by @syntheticavenger » Dark Alpha!Ransom Drysdale x Omega!Reader — Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha but he has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not. | Prepared to go on a Hawaiian EMOTIONAL roller coaster with this story, there are so many times in this story you find yourself picking your jaw up off the floor. I’ve linked you to chapter 9, which has all the previous chapters, listed.

Is A Shout Out To My...

@bluemusickid in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a Holi Celebration Writing Challenge, that is due April 30th, but extension can be given. Any Marvel or MCU characters can be used in addition to Chris Evans and his characters. The theme is Holi and its colors, for better explanation visit the link provided.

@whisperlullaby in celebration of 700 followers is hosting a 700 Followers Challenge, your entries will be due May 5th. The theme is kinks, no RPF, DDLG/MMLG, bathroom related , incest, or under age kinks. This is MCU characters, Sebastian Stan, and Chris Evans characters x OFC or Reader. For more information visit the link provided. Congrats Becca on the 700 followers you deserve it hun!

@stargazingfangirl18 in celebration of 5K followers is hosting a Soft Dark Writing Challenge, which is due May 31st. Don’t let the name fool you, your writing can be soft, dark, or soft!dark, or headcanons about any Chris character. 500 word minimum with no max, but new or be read as a stand alone piece. For more information visit the link provided and be sure to congratulate Siri on her 5K milestone!

@cloudystevie in celebration of 4K followers is hosting a Mob!AU Writing Challenge, that is due on May 30th. You can use Chris Evans and any of his characters he’s played before, as well as make it NSFW or SFW. To learn more about it please visit the link below. Also congratulations Jasmeen on the 4K followers! 💗

[collecting-stories]

She’s Kinda Hot - Sarah Cameron

Request: omg i really wish i could write but, can you do one with sarah and kind of like kie reader(rich but hang out with the pogues)where they are enemies and are stuck together for a project and the reader keeps annoying sarah to make her mad and the reader tells sarah she’s hot when she’s mad and then they end up getting together or something. sorry this is really long this is also my first time requesting so i’m kinda new lo

A/N: I really freaking love Sarah Cameron. That is all. Enjoy the fic. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Sarah was pretty sure that there was one of those personal rain clouds hanging directly over her head as she sat in math class with you. Who even assigned school projects in math class? Wasn’t that kind of thing reserved for english or science? But no, her math teacher...your math teacher...decided that a project to highlight Women in Math was a brilliant idea for Women’s History Month and, in an even greater stroke of genius, she stuck Sarah and you together as partners. It was all your fault really, that was all Sarah kept thinking as she stared across the classroom at the side of your head. That if you hadn’t walked into class late, in the middle of assignments, Sarah would’ve ended up with the next person alphabetically behind Cameron. Instead, she was stuck with you. 

“Why don’t we just split the assignment into parts and then put it together at the end?” Sarah suggested, after the bell rang and she managed to chase you down the hall of the kook academy to your locker.  

“Why not just work together?” You replied, shrugging a shoulder as if it shouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen to Sarah to be paired together for the project.

“I’d rather not.”

“Cause you broke up with me-”  

Sarah hushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her hand and looking back and forth down the crowded hallway. “You know what happened!”  

You pushed Sarah’s hand away and rolled your eyes, “well too bad princess, I need this grade so you’re gonna have to deal with seeing me.” You said, “everyday. After school.”  

“That’s bullshit,” Sarah snapped, following after you when you shut your locker and started down the hallway to your next class, “you do not need that fucking grade! You’re at like, the top of the class.”  

“Are you the teacher?” you asked, looking back at her. “Don’t worry Sarah, I promise I’ll stay six feet away and I won’t try to tempt you. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out you’re into girls.” You said, whispering the last part so only she could hear it.  

Sarah stopped in her tracks, watching you walk the rest of the way to your class. She wanted to scream after you, that wasn’t the reason. That wasn’t why she’d totally annexed you from her life. It wasn’t just that she knew this project was going to get her in deep shit, it was that she was one hundred percent positive that she would not be able to work with you without letting her feelings get the better of her.  

It wasn’t like the kook academy was a big place, there wasn’t exactly room to avoid you completely, but Sarah had done a pretty decent job so far. Even when the two of you crossed paths in class, and it happened more than Sarah would’ve preferred, she managed to keep herself away from you. At least until now, she was stuck with you as her partner for some ridiculous math project. She’d been banking on you wanting as little to do with her as she tried to have with you but instead you seemed totally fine. Unbothered by everything that went down between the two of you.  

She thought about asking Kiara what she would do but Sarah could already hear her best friend telling her that she wasn’t going to take sides. Kiara was friends with both of you and the most advice she would ever offer was “I don’t get what happened between you two anyway”.  

No, asking Kiara wouldn’t work. Sarah would have to resign herself to this project. She could this. It was just a three-week project. She could survive three weeks with you.  

“Hey, if I get lunch, what’d’ya want?” You asked, hanging your head off of Sarah’s bed and holding your phone out so you could tap through your doordash app.  

Sarah wanted to scream, it was still half-way through the first week and you had been to her house three times in as many days, spending your after-school hours driving her crazy. She was pretty sure that you were doing this on purpose.  

“It’s almost 5:30,” Sarah replied, not looking up from her laptop, “I think lunch is over.”

“Dinner then.” You said.  

“No. I don’t want dinner.” She snapped, “and I don’t want lunch or whatever else...I just want to finish this project.”

“We’ve got like, two weeks left Sarah,” you pointed out, rolling over onto your stomach and looking at her across the room, “just chill out.”  

You knew you were pushing Sarah’s buttons but you couldn’t help it. When things between the two of you had gone bad, when she’d told you that it was over and, worse than that, it was a mistake, you had been heartbroken. There wasn’t a better word for it. You hated how upset you’d been after Sarah broke it off with you but when things settled, you couldn’t deny that there was still something there. Little looks, fleeting in the hallway, moments you caught her staring and you knew she caught you too. It felt like boiling tension, the same way it had before, when you’d gotten together.  

“Chill out?” She huffed, “you’ve been at my house all week driving me fucking nuts and now you tell me to ‘chill out’. No, you need to help me with this fucking project!”  

You sat up on the bed, unable to contain the smile as you looked over at Sarah, “god, I totally forgot how insanely hot you are when you’re pissed off.”  

Sarah tossed her pencil across the room at you, “will you knock it off. You always pull this shit with me.”

“What shit?” You almost laughed, “you’re the one who told me that dating was an ‘accident’ and you were ‘confused about your feelings’. What am I doing, exactly, to pull shit with you? If anything, Sarah, you leading me on was pretty much exactly that.”  

“I wasn’t leading you on.” She groaned, flicking her hair over her shoulder the way she always did when she was pissed with something someone said to her. “What was I supposed to do anyway?” She said, voice dropping lower so no one would hear her. You might’ve been in her closed bedroom but if there was one thing you’d learned about Tanny Hill it was that someone was always listening. “Do you know what my family would do if they found out?”

“Found out that you were dating...basically a pogue? Or dating a girl?” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at her in question. You knew what the answer was. Sarah had been trying to live up to every expectation that Ward set for her from the moment she was born. She was always trying to make up for Rafe or Wheezie doing something to upset him by making sure she never did. And while other people dating whoever they wanted was totally fine with him, his favorite daughter, his pride and joy, dating a girl...maybe if it’d been Wheezie a few years down the line. But not Sarah, who was supposed to date a rich kook and go to UNC and marry the same rich kook and they could have a couple kids and buy a big house near his. He’d been planning it all out for her since before she was born and you had thrown a wrench in that plan.  

“It’s a delicate subject.”

“No,” you laughed and shook your head, “your dad’s a total homophobe. What’s he got against two super-hot girls dating each other?”

“When one of them is his daughter, I don’t think it’s at the top of his approved list.” She replied. “We should be working on this project anyway...I want a good grade and so do you.”

“Sarah-”

“No. Cause you’ll say something that you know I wanna hear and then you’ll do the stupid slow walk over to my chair and put your hands on the arm rests and I’ll be totally defenseless and then I’ll do something I totally regret...like kissing you.” Sarah said, “or letting you kiss me.”

“You’d totally regret it if we kissed?” You asked. “Positive?”

“Yes I’m positive.”

“We could test it out? Just to make sure?”

“No.”  

You shrugged, grabbing your math text off the bed and setting it on your lap again, “okay, I guess we should get back to work then.”

“What?” Sarah almost sounded shocked and really she shouldn’t have been. She should’ve known when the teacher put the two of you together for the project that this was exactly where she would end up at some point within the three weeks. Though really, she’d held out a lot longer than she ever thought she would be able to. “That’s it? You’re just going back to the project?”

“You said that’s what you wanted to do.”

She groaned and tugged at the roots of her hair for a second before looking at you, “you are the most frustrating, annoying, dense person in the entire world and I cannot believe that we-”

While she reamed you out, you had put your book aside and gotten up, going over to her and doing exactly what she said you would. You put your hands on the armrests of her desk chair and you leaned in and kissed her mid-sentence. “Is that what I was supposed to do?” You asked, pulling away just enough to see her face.  

Sarah wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you toward her and forcing you to stabilize yourself with a knee on the side of her leg, practically sitting on her lap. “Something like that.” She finally said, “though I would’ve appreciated a little warning.”

“Oh, sorry, you seemed stressed,” you replied, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to help you relax.”

“Is stressed the word?” She joked, tension melting as she brushed her nose against yours. She leaned forward so your foreheads were touching, her eyelashes just ghosting a touch on your cheeks when she closed her eyes for a split second.  

“Extremely hot? Sexy...a major turn on.” You joked, kissing her again. “God, imagine if you’d been paired with like...Topper for this? You’d be kissing him right now.”

“Stop trying to ruin the moment and kiss me.” Sarah laughed.

[akumaalert]

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review , ch 119 -120

“ Of all ppl, why me? “..The author starts the climax with this question.

it sums up kyo’s perspective of himself when it comes to being loved by tohru. Why me? The guy who hurt your mom & caused you to be orphaned which led to you being tossed between ur relatives till you slept in a tent.. me? the one whose mom couldn’t even bare to live with him? me? whose dad outright wish him death? me? who watched as you desperately tried to link everyday’s events to ur deceased mom... 

it also summed how Isuzu felt, “Why him? is it pity” ? How the sohma felt knowing tohru is in love with kyo” oh no, He’s the cat & will be locked soon ” . There’s a sweeping feeling of “poor tohru”.

It sums up how the audience felt seeing his flashback & knowing how much he loved kyoko, how much the kid kyo truly wanted to protect tohru, how awfully the teenage kyo is tormented by guilt. As audience we understood how much kyo is depressed & although we rooted for this couple the most of any show even, it’s irony that tohru would fall in love with the one who was involved in her mom’s past.

-Brilliant writing that takes a melodramatic plot twist & writes it in a realistic gut-retching way. Kyo’s question is so true to his view of himself. The sohma’s question is so true to their view of him, the audience questions is so true to their fear that kyo might not do what he hope he does!

--Part of setting the climax is not surprising the audience with unforeseen plot twists that shocks them. NO. On the contrary, you gotta set up the dread, the fear of the worst case scenario, this will keep the audience /readers glued to ur story!

-The Suffocating Love:

Se01, ep 24, kyo describe living with tohru as “ lukewarm water” he felt “ suffocated”. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. Master Kazuma understood what kyo meant. When you feel you should be rejected, being accepted hurt. When think you should be hated, being loved hurts. When you believe you should be punished, being forgiven hurts like hell! weird, right?

Nope. That’s so relatable. ppl aren’t computers where you can program them & then deprogram again. To be accepted, loved, forgiven is wonderful & liberating! but it needs time to wash away the rejection, hate & desire for punishment. Kyo’s problem is that the one who eventually gave him all these, is the one who he think he hurt the most. That’s why every time tohru loves him, he feels so much joy, but the knife of reality stabs him hard! Every time she opens her heart, complains & become vulnerable with him, he’s overwhelmed with happiness to see her genuinely relieved but the guilt comes & strangles him with “ YOU CAUSED THIS”. He didn’t. But alas he’ll never know as kyoko died with the true meaning of her words with her & kyo would need to grow despite this pain & learn to let go of guilt.

---I’ve never read a love story where being together is the ultimate joy as well as  the ultimate pain. both weaved in realistic display of emotions & logical reaction of years of trauma & pain! forever my favorite love story!

-Logical Reaction & Realistic Assessment of self:

The anime made me appreciate kyo’s inner monologues the most in furuba! It only happened in big moments & revealed deep painful thoughts! Tohru was the narrator of se01, she commented to the audience abt everything & yuki was the narrator of se02 & commented on all characters feelings. Buy kyo was shrouded with silence to keep the “ suspenseful plot hidden”. He had way more inner monologues in the manga! I was delighted! But let’s focus on what he says here:

1. loneliness.   2. shame.     3. frustration.

Kyo explain why he felt each of those & what reaction it caused him: sulking. He then commented on his reaction back then: “ I was a brat” !

Age gives us wisdom even if he didn’t think which is good. so, child kyo is different from teenage kyo, is different from 18 years kyo. Age is coupled with experience brought by daily encounters. You live more, you learn more. Mostly, you look back at yourself & assess it, which is good. We all do. Most of the time, we berate our young self. We lament the stupid choices we did. We look back at our mistakes back then & see them with magnifying lens!! which is BAD!. Kyo being in this state of mind where he feels trapped by tohru’s love that he is forced to “ confess” his “ sin” of knowing her mom, looks back at his young self & althou gives a successful assessment, ends up with a harsh judgement! Kyo doesnt want tohru to forgive him cuz he is not forgiving his younger self. He wants the current self to be punished severely. So, the future self won’t exist at all. He is committing emotional suicide.

Punish the brat.

The brat who, few years earlier, saw his mom throw herself at a train...

The brat is still listening to his dad wishing him death & fuming hate... 

The brat who will grow up few years older & once again see a loving soul bleed to death on the street knowing that he had 50% chance of helping & hearing her say “ I’ll never forgive you” ...

If kyo was looking for forgiveness before, it’s long gone after kyoko’s dying words~~

So, yeah kyo. You are right. You were a brat, still is now with your hate of yuki. But that brat existed to preserve your soul from doing what your mom did. You know that, too, right? that’s why it’s been long since you really hated yuki. It actually stopped completely after beach trip. The hate is directed to you. It always was. but hid behind yuki’s image for awhile. but now. it is unleashed. His heart can’t take it anymore.

Buy kyo.... You said your part. Explained yourself.... unleashed your hidden pain.. Go ahead, Judge & Punish yourself.

Now it’s Tohru turn to say her part, explain herself... Logic? deliberate Choice? reason? It all doesn’t change how I feel! I’m not a button that can be pressed to change a channel. three whole years of love I carried in my heart for you, only you, can’t be erased just like that. Goddammit kyo that’s not how ppl work! You resisted loving me?  I’m resisting hating you! Now, I’m the one unleashing my anger!

Side Notes:

I don’t like so many things in se03 & how rushed it was. But ep 8 is my favorite in this entire season!! I’m so thankful it only covered two chapters!!!!! It gave space for kyo’s pain to sink & impact the audience! How silly would it be for a character that was locked away emotionally & expressively during all 3 seasons to be rushed in one ep? How horrible would it be for the the hidden plot of kyo seeing kyoko’s death which was teased since se01 (grave visit ep) & to be mixed with Akito & tohru bonding under the rain? I’m so happy ep 8 ending wasnt tohru falling off cliff, but tohru left by kyo while akito approaches. This way the emphasis is on the pain kyo caused not the harm akito caused.

Another thing I’m thankful for in se03, ep8 is kyo’s animation. Looking at the manga panels, I see kyo’s pain so clear, so well-drawn!! Looking at the anime & my God the pain is well-drawn too & coupled with marvelous voice acting from both Jerry Jewel & Yuma Ushida! The animators didn’t care for pretty style of drawing & focused on realistic facial emotions, hence, the picture matched the voice!

As I said previously, the only thing I hated in ep 8 was not showing tohru’s face when she confessed her love for kyo, the emphasis was on yuki’s face...... weird choice!!!!!!! but meh~ the anime never cared for tohru when it comes to realist emotions, so not seeing her face will equal seeing it with weird tears or whatever they do with her, plus yuki was coming on to the picture & within frame, so it was expected they will only focus on him.

I’ll complete my analysis of ch120 next post along with the following chapters cuz this was getting long!

It is so rare for anime to make a character look at their self, assess the past & not come back triumphant with self knowledge, or enlightened on what to do!!! I’m loving how kyo’s look back on himself was both good & bad given his emotional state & depression! one of the best writing element in the story!!! It’s also one of the few moments where I didn’t feel Takaya-san was giving us a direct lesson about life or urging us to “learn” something on the spot.

I enjoyed these two chapters so much!!! They contain cut content as well, but I believe the soul of the c2 hapters was beautifully preserved in the anime ep8. so I’m satisfied.

It took me a whole month to start reading furuba again!!! Man... life was tough~ oh well, hopefully, it gets better now that the holidays are approaching <3

Hope all of you guys are doing well<3