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#and you know realistically i should be writing this stuff but will i actually get that far
goldentigerfestival · 4 months
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no but listen. i love. domestic fluri.
i am a simple person. i just need them to come home and say "i'm back" while the other is doing whatever their daily business is. i need yuri to have to teach flynn to cook like a normal person bc he can't keep coming home to monstrosities. i need them to talk about their day over dinner and laugh at each other's shenanigans. i need one of them to go to bed before the other some nights with a very comfortable and relaxed "i'm heading to bed now", "okay be there in a bit". i need them to talk briefly in bed before going to sleep on nights they go to bed at the same time or one hasn't fallen asleep yet, and then sleep very close to each other but not always cuddling because they're just perfectly comfortable being that close while still having their "own" space.
i need them to be able to sit in silence and do things around the house near each other without having to always acknowledge each other. i need them past their honeymoon phase where they're so used to each other being around all the time that they're relaxed and it's perfectly normal to just be in the house together. i need them to get to the point where they're like "well damn wait, we've always been this way together". i need them to realize how comfortable and at peace they are with each other's presence that being in the same space is just completely normal.
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moongreenlight · 8 months
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“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.
He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.
I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.
- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.
Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’
Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.
That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.
- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.
But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.
- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.
Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.
- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.
Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.
- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.
Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]
MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.
His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.
- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.
It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.
“Didn’t think you’d call.”
“Didn’t think I would either.”
He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.
- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.
So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.
Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.
Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.
- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.
Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.
- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.
He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)
He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.
Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.
LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.
- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.
GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.
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starzwithapen · 5 months
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⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑
JOHN DORY / READER ☆ DUET?
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。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
☆summary: Brozone happens to play on the radio, and JD's appalled to find out you're not a fan
☆content: reader is not a pop-troll, reader is gender neutral, lowkey crackfic lmao, established relationship
☆a/n: Silver wrote this one!! And okay we KNOW realistically JD would tell his partner about being in brozone but for the sake of the comedic factor in the fic he's hiding it shshsshshhsbshshsh
⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑
You'd been sitting in the driver's seat, driving Rhonda around [a rare occurrence, but JD indulged you just this once] while John Dory stirred his sugar into his mug, handing you yours with a kiss to your cheek. You nod at him gratefully, looking down at the buttons spread across in front of you, one of them particularly sticking out to you.
“Woah, wait, I didn't know Rhonda had a radio.”
John Dory leans against the back of your seat, arms wrapped around you from behind, “ehh, I don't use it often in case it scares off all the animals.”
He pokes your arm playfully, eyes glancing out the window, “we're pretty far out, though, should be fine to listen to some tunes.”
You insert a random channel number, turning the volume upwards. This one seems to be a host speaking about the weather, so you switch to the next- sounds like a cheesy pop song of some kind, probably a boy band. You snort at the lyrics- you didn't know anyone could fit that many synonyms of “girl” into one song.
You switch onto the next channel without catching John Dory's wide, shit-eating grin, and the immediate way his face practically crumples apart, “wuh- hey, what's wrong with that last song? It was really good.”
“Okay, I know you're a pop-troll,” you start, trying to find a channel with your preferred music, “but you have to remember I'm not. That stuff hurts my ears.”
John Dory leans backwards, arms crossing around his chest, “Okay, yeah, you don't like pop music, but why that song specifically? I was really jamming out to it, y'know.” He makes that smug smile of his that normally has your cheeks heating, “guy's a lyrical genius if you ask me.”
You stare at him, unimpressed, because he's got to be joking if he thinks that song has deep lyrics.
“JD, he just rhymed baby with baby. Three times in a row. Within the same chorus.”
“Hey, it's hard to think of rhymes that don't throw off the choreo, okay?” He points an accusing finger in your direction before pausing, forcing a nonchalant pose and pursing his lips, “Or- uh, or so I've heard.”
“Yeah, yeah, that's what you pop-trolls always say. I think that guy just needs to pick up a dictionary every once in a while.”
You don't actually care about the song that much, but seeing John Dory get this riled up over it is funny enough for you to go further,
“I bet you I could write a better song by the end of the week than that guy has his whole career.”
John Dory's grin turns wolfish, and oh boy, you should've known better than to try and challenge him, even jokingly,
“Oh you bet, do you? We'll see about that.”
—-------------------
This whole thing was going. Uh. Badly.
Your conversation had escalated into another one of your bets, which you surprisingly lose more often than not, most likely because you bite off more than you can chew. John Dory's unfortunately very aware of this, and throws you bait whenever he can. This time was no different. Winner gets one request for the loser.
You are not a song-writer by any means. You're a troll, yes, trolls sing and dance! But you don't write songs! The most experience you have with rhyming is a shitty poem you made as a teenager that never saw the light of day.
You'd started with listening to more of Brozone's music, and okay, you have to admit, some of their songs were actually really good okay. You'd caught yourself humming them more than once throughout the day, and John Dory always gives you that smug look from your peripherals before leaning in to kiss you senseless. He knew you were coming around to them and it was humiliating, and he was also concerningly elated by it.
While listening you've come to realise the lead singer sounds oddly similar to John Dory, just with a higher pitch and none of that raspiness. Like, freakishly similar. It's had you thinking John Dory's calling for you when he's just sound asleep, and the fact you misheard Brozone's “baby” or “honey” as JD is frankly embarrassing.
You groan and slump against the couch, the pen tumbling out your hand and clattering onto the ground below. Okay, you had to admit, this was really difficult. You were suddenly gaining so much more respect for boy bands.
You'd wanted to use this ridiculous bet as an opportunity to show off, or…even bring you and JD closer together- you know how important music is to him, so getting to write him a love song under the guise of a bet? It's a perfect chance handed to you on a silver platter!
But you just can't seem to think of the words- it's already been a week and so far you've written, what? 4 verses? And they all sucked. You wanted it to mean something- you wanted it to sound poetic and elegant and meaningful all at once, unlike those silly songs on the radio, but it just wouldn't work out!
You muffle a frustrated shout into your hands, pulling them away from your face when you hear footsteps, looking up to see John Dory towering over you.
“You give up yet?” His smile is adorable infuriating to look at, so you cast your gaze aside, huffing and grabbing your pen off the floor.
“No, ‘course not.”
He hums, patient for you to admit defeat, trying to take a peek at your notebook from up above, though you're not too worried since he can't read upside down [or at all, you've come to suspect].
“Okay, fine, I give up. You win.”
John Dory lets out a ‘whoop!’ and throws a fist upwards in celebration, smile so wide you're afraid he'll split his face apart.
You sigh, “Okay, hit me with it, I'm doing the dishes for a full week? Scrubbing Rhonda's windows?”
“Sing a duet with me.”
“This is so unfair, you know I hate doing the dishes- wait- huh?”
John Dory looks at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, holding his palm out for you to take, “Sing a duet with me. C'mon, don't think I haven't seen you swaying to my- uh, ahem, Brozone's music the past few days.”
He recovers quickly from his slip-up, tugging you upwards once you take his hand. He carefully starts up his record player, and you're surprised to find you recognise the song immediately, since it'd become a favourite of yours this past week.
“You know this one?” JD grins in your direction, one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm, “think I've heard you hum it a few too many times during breakfast.”
The song starts off slow, as does your dancing, the both of you simply swaying together- you don't exactly…dance often, so your movements are clumsy while his are self-assured.
The lyrics are cheesy, all about young teenage love, but…they make you feel giddy, your steps becoming lighter, your heart fluttering about. And, well, the song may not have deep mind-blowing lyrics, but you think that's the point of it. It's just meant to be fun, have your blood pumping and your heart soaring.
“We're grown adults, this song is for highschoolers.” You say, though your smile is fonder this time. John Dory chuckles and spins you around in his arms, making your head spin in more ways than one, your feet tripping up over his, “C’mon, live a little! Who says we can't be young and free in our mid-thirties?”
You stumble in place, trying to blink the dizziness out your eyes.
“JD, I'm gonna knock you out.” You try your best to grumble, but it only comes out flustered with how hot your cheeks are.
He smirks, twirling you around, “You've already knocked me-” his foot slides under yours, and you fall down into his arms with a yelp as he catches you in a perfect dip- “off my feet.”
Just before you can spew another insult at him for catching you off-gaurd like this, he leans in to kiss you, lips melding against yours sweetly. You melt into it, his arms secured around you so you don't fall, the music fading into background noise in your mind. You know your voice will be hoarse from singing and your muscles sore from dancing by the end of the night, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑
Would be superr cool if you left feedback if you enjoyed it's super helpful and much appreciated ! this guy is so cringefail I NEED HIM. -silver
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cowgurrrl · 2 months
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Sleeping on the Blacktop
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)
Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??
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Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks. 
It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones. 
When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her. 
"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.
"There's nothing to tell."
"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."
"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.
"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look. 
"Talking?"
"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."
"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.
"So you and Joel did talk." 
"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."
"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."
"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?" 
"Nothing that could actually turn into anything." 
"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."
"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.
"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden. 
"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane." 
"It's annoying, right?" 
"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."
"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care. 
"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan. 
"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."
"All the more reason to buy some." 
"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."
"He sounds like a keeper then."
"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."
"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.
"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh. 
"What if it doesn't?"
"What?"
"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"
"I just don't wanna get hurt."
"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.
She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that. 
"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."
"I'm really gonna miss you, too."
"I wish you could stay."
"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."
"I guess that's true."
"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence. 
"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.
"I love you, too." She says. 
It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles. 
You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.
The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks. 
Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.
You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back. 
Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home. 
And then.
Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it. 
Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.
You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.
Just talk?
It seems like he can't type fast enough.
What else would you wanna do?
I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.
I guess I did. 
Come over and I can do just that.
Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?
You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting. 
At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man. 
Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.
It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans. 
Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.
You like it?
It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.
It's perfect.
What do you like about it?
Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me. 
Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.
You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.
Like this one?
Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.
"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.
"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.
"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"
"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel." 
"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.
"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless. 
"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone. 
Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain. 
"Fuck, Joel-"
"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that? 
The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.
"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.
"Yeah?"
"Get the fuck over here now."
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Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week. 
He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.
"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.
"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine. 
"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.
"Yes. Just need you." You say. 
"Are you sure?" 
"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans. 
"Feisty." 
"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms. 
He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him. 
"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.
"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils. 
"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.
"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.
"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs. 
He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied. 
"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.
"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good." 
He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure. 
"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming. 
You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom. 
It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.
"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?" 
"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet. 
In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing. 
Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.
Just... not yet.
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01
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bitchesuntitled · 2 months
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Summary: What happens when your husband, Dieter, forgets who you are?
Warnings: 18+ minors get outta here! Cursing, fluff, smut, feel good, oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), probably not like realistic medical knowledge but it’s fiction 🤷‍♀️
A/N: Thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. @jay-zzle for the idea AND the mood board 😍❤️ I really liked writing this and had a lot of fun with it. Hope y’all like it! @schnarfer(it's here!)
Masterlist||AO3 Link
“Wait, who said we can’t have fruit bars anymore?” you ask, turning from the pantry to look at your seven year old daughter, Luna, sitting at the kitchen island.
“Daddy,” Luna states matter of factly, “He said that it’s fake food and we should only eat organic stuff.”
“Yeah, we need organic food,” your son Leo pipes in from the seat next to her. At three years old, he is currently in the copy everything big sister says or does phase.
“So, what do you want as a snack in your lunch box then?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
“Uhhh… banana?” Luna shrugs, “Daddy wasn’t very specific on what I should eat instead.”
“Okay but get your breakfast eaten before your cereal gets soggy,” you say, pointing at both before starting on the dishes.
Of course Dieter would be the one to tell the kids not to eat certain foods. The man scolds you every time he sees your Bluetooth headphones – droning on and on about the effects it’ll have on your brain waves and how it’s going to damage your mind. Your relationship with Dieter was a bit of a chaotic whirlwind, meeting randomly on the set of one of the movies he starred in, one your friend was working on the set of.
“Well, hello there,” Dieter had said, standing next to you by the craft table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“Excuse me?” you asked, looking around to see who he was actually talking to.
“Or should I walk by again?” he said with a smile.
“Is that how you get all the girls?” you asked, picking up a piece of cheese and pointing it at him, “Because that shit was pretty cheesy if you ask me.”
“No, trying something new,” Dieter said, cracking up into a giant fit of laughter. “Sorry, sorry. That– yeah, that was pretty good.”
“Bravo needed on set!” someone with a headset shouted in the distance, frantically waving at him.
“Guess that’s my cue,” he sighed, “Hope to see you ar– wait, what’s your name?”
You introduce yourself and he takes your hand, kissing the back of it.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, repeating your name and winking, “Hope to see you around.”
That was the conversation that started it all nearly eight years ago. Within the first year of knowing Dieter, you were married and pregnant – and no – it wasn’t a shotgun wedding, as much as the tabloids tried to pin it as one.
“Dieter Bravo and Mystery Woman Seen Leaving Las Vegas Wedding Chapel”
“Dieter Bravo Expecting First Child with New Wife – Shotgun Wedding?”
“How Long Before Dieter Bravo Gets His First Divorce?”
You both just knew you were meant to be together. With the birth of Luna, he had sobered up completely. These days he hardly even drinks beer. It’s weird in a way, that he’s changed so much from who you first met, but still the same Dieter in every other aspect. Wild, spontaneous, creative, romantic, chaotic at times, and so loving.
“Good morning, my babies,” Dieter says, waltzing into the kitchen, giving each of his kids a kiss on the top of their heads.
“Hi, Daddy,” Luna and Leo exclaim.
“Hello, my love,” Dieter smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist giving you a sloppy smooch on the cheek.
“Ew,” Luna shouts, making gagging noises.
“Yeah, what Luna said!” Leo says, copying his older sister with fake gagging.
“Stop with the fake gagging,” he replies, looking at them, “You’ll make mommy sick.”
“Hi, babe,” you laugh, “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”
“I want to start doing my own stunts like Tom Cruise,” Dieter explains excitedly, “And I think I’m going to crush it today! I’m supposed to scale a building, don’t worry, everything is going to be totally safe.”
“Seriously, Dieter?” you sigh, “You may say that it’s safe but I’m still going to worry – please be safe.”
Dieter gasps, putting his hand to his chest as if he were clutching a set of pearls. “Babies, I don’t think mommy trusts daddy!”
“Momma,” Leo laughs, perching up on the chair more, “Daddy be fine!”
“Yeah, momma,” Dieter says with a grin, “Daddy be fine.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, snorting and shaking your head, looking at your watch you realize you’re going to be cutting it close in getting Luna to school on time. “Shit!”
“Mommy,” Luna scolds, “You shouldn’t say bad words like that!”
“Luna, hurry up with your cereal or else you’re going to be late for school again,” you say as you turn to Dieter who is rummaging in the fridge for his own breakfast. “What time do you have to be on set?”
“In about an hour, get her to school. My favorite son and I will be fine here at home. If need be, I’ll tell the director that I’m going to be late. Family first,” he says, “Not like they’d fire me at this point. I’m the entire reason people are going to want to see this movie.”
“I love you so much,” you say, giving him a kiss before ushering Luna out the door.
“Love you too, baby!” Dieter shouts.
“I’m back,” you announce from the front door.
“That didn’t take as long as I expected,” Dieter chuckles, “I gotta get headed to the studio though.” He scoops Leo up into a tight hug, “We'll play superhero when I get back home, okay?”
“Otay,” Leo says, pouting.
“Poor baby,” Dieter coos and glances up at you with a smirk, “You sure you don’t want another one?”
“Dieter,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, “We’ve talked about this. If it feels right, then maybe, but right now? No.”
“Fine,” Dieter groans, “But the moment you think it feels right, tell me?”
“Promise,” you smirk.
Dieter tells Leo goodbye with the promise of playing superheroes when he gets back home. Your mind begins to wander back to Dieter’s question about another baby as you go about your chores. You start smiling thinking back to when you first decided to start trying for a baby –  lying in bed together shortly after getting married.
“How many kids do you want?” Dieter asked, playing with the wedding band on your finger.
“I’d always imagined three honestly,” you smiled, “Why?”
“I want whatever you want,” he grinned, slotting himself between your legs again. “But if you wanted at least one I wouldn’t mind trying now.”
“D, we just got married a month ago,” you said, shaking your head, “Is that the only reason you married me? To have a baby?”
“Of course not, baby,” Dieter said, linking his fingers with yours and pinning them above your head, “I just know I really, really want them with you.”
“Oh yeah?” you whispered, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He moaned into your mouth, slowly grinding his stiffness against you.
“Yes,” he panted, breaking the kiss.
“Let’s do it then,” you said, nipping his bottom lip, “Fuck a baby into me, Dieter.”
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he groaned.
“Momma!” Leo shouts, pulling you from your thoughts, “Your phone.”
You had been so deep in the memory you didn’t even notice your phone ringing. It’s just Dieter, probably checking in to see how your day is going. He tends to do that while he’s on breaks at work.
“Well, hello, Tom Cruise,” you answer, giggling – except it isn’t Dieter on the other end. 
Instead, you hear his assistant, Andy, saying your name before, “Dieter’s been in an accident. I’m almost to your house, I’ll watch Leo so you can go to Cedars-Sinai medical,” quickly spills out of his mouth, “It’s not good.”
It’s been two weeks that you’ve sat beside his bed in this damn hospital, waiting for him to wake up. The doctors are all hopeful that he’ll wake up at any minute, but it’s been two days since he’s been off the ventilator, and nothing has happened yet. The kids keep asking where their dad is, and you don’t have any other answer than he’s sick. 
“Dieter,” you beg, holding onto his hand, “Babe, please wake up. We need you. Luna and Leo miss you – I miss you. Please just wake up.”
The nurse comes in to check Dieter’s vitals for the third time today. Since she’s keeping him company, you decide to head to the cafeteria to get some food, grabbing something simple before heading back to Dieter’s room. When you return, you notice a flurry of activity.
“Mr. Bravo, can you tell me what year it is?” a doctor asks, shining a small flashlight in his eyes.
“Of course I can, dumbass! It’s 2016,” Dieter snaps. “Now will you stop shining that light in my eye?”
“What’s going on?” you ask hesitantly.
“He woke up while you went to get food,” a nurse explains, “We’re trying to make sure mentally he’s with us.”
“Oh, for fuck sake!” Dieter cries out, “I’m fine, never felt better! There, she must be my new assistant.”
All eyes turn to you. This was a possibility the doctor had talked about before – temporary amnesia. Hopefully that’s all it is. The doctor motions you to follow him out of the room.
“He seems to have hit his head harder than we thought. In all honesty, I would try to play pretend with him for a little bit. Try thinking of things that might remind him of who he actually is today,” the doctor suggests. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Bravo.”
Dieter is having a conniption in the room while nurses are trying to calm him down. As you step back in, you see your husband frantically disconnecting and throwing the wires off of his body and onto the floor. 
“Where the fuck is my assistant?” Dieter yells.
“Dieter, D, baby – Mr. Bravo!” you shout and Dieter immediately freezes, eyes wide as saucers. “You need to calm down before you hurt yourself.”
“What happened?” Dieter asks, looking around at everyone.
“We’ll give you guys some space,” a nurse says quietly while ushering the others out of the room. You grab the chair next to his bed and sit down, reaching for his hand but stopping yourself as you notice your ring. Right now, this isn’t your husband. This is Dieter Bravo who believes it’s the year 2016.
“You were in an accident, you hit your head pretty good,” you start explaining to him, “You’ve been in a coma for two weeks now.”
“So, who are you?” he asks, looking you up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I knew my team wanted to hire me a new assistant since things didn’t work out with the last one – didn’t realize they’d pick someone so hot. Would you wanna have sex with me?”
“Dieter, I don’t think you’re cleared for those types of activities,” you chuckle, “I’m here for whatever you might need though.”
“Can you get me my phone?” he asks with those puppy-dog eyes he does best.
“Sure,” you reach for your purse digging around and find his phone, handing it over to him. “The passcode is 332016”
“The fuck? Why would I change it from the classic 42069?” he asks, looking at you with confusion.
“It’s uh… an important day to you,” you say, looking away, not wanting him to see the tears forming in your eyes. The day you met. 
“So, did I have an accident on set?”
“Yeah, you were scaling a building and the cable holding you snapped. You fell a good distance and smacked your head on the ground.”
“Wait,” Dieter says looking at his phone calendar, pointing it towards you, “Why does this say it’s 2024?”
“Because it’s not 2016,” you shrug, “It’s 2024.”
“How long have I been in a fucking coma?” Dieter asks, starting to panic again, frantically searching through the contacts in his phone, “Why can’t I find my dealer's number? I need coke. Wait, you’re my fucking assistant – go get me coke!”
“You’ve only been in a coma for two weeks and the only coke I’ll get you is Coca Cola,” you say crossing your arms, “I won’t let you have drugs in m– the house, Dieter.”
“Wait, my assistant lives with me?” he gasps, “You’re just supposed to come when I call you.”
“Different kind of assistant here.”
“Wait, I can’t have you in my house! I see that ring on your finger – I don’t want to get in between a marriage,” Dieter says, pointing at your left hand.
“It’s– it’s complicated right now,” you shrug.
“Fine, stay in my house, but stay out of my way,” Dieter sighs in frustration.
This is going to be a lot harder than you thought. He doesn’t remember who you are to him. He doesn’t remember getting clean when he married you. He doesn’t remember anything. Going home that night doesn’t help either because Luna wants to know what’s going on with her dad.
“Andy said that daddy woke up!” Luna says vibrating with excitement, “How come he’s not home?
“I had to leave him at the hospital because he’s still sick, honey.” You sit down on the plush couch in the living room, “Come here. I wanna talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” Luna hesitantly says, coming to sit next to you.
“Daddy is still sick. He looks fine but his brain is sick right now.”
“What’s that mean?” she questions, looking at you with the same eyes as her father.
“He doesn’t remember some stuff about his life right now,” you continue, “But we are gonna try to help him get it back. We have to think of the best memories we have with daddy so that maybe he’ll remember better.”
“So, we have to fix daddy?” she asks with tears in her eyes as you grab her into a hug, stroking her hair.
“Yeah, sweet girl, we have to fix daddy,” you say, trying not to cry yourself.
What was supposed to only be a few days turned into a week at the hospital. A week of playing Dieter’s assistant and having him boss you around. He was still adamant on getting drugs, but you put your foot down on that one. You weren’t going to let him ruin his seven years of sobriety just because he lost his memory.
“Alright Mr. Bravo looks like you’re all set to leave. Just need you to sign a couple of papers here and then you can be on your way,” the doctor says, handing him the papers.
“Fucking finally,” Dieter groans, “Not that this isn’t a wonderful hospital, but I’d much rather be home.”
“Of course,” the doctor says.
“Will you go ahead and bring the car around? I’d rather not walk too much considering my condition,” Dieter asks, looking at you.
“Of course, D– Mr. Bravo,” you grit through your teeth with the most customer service smile you can muster. That was a new development, Dieter wanting you only to refer to him as Mr. Bravo. You rush out of the room so that it doesn’t blow up into another argument. He’s already tried to fire you twice because of the no drugs thing. You had to make up some story of how you’re in a five-year contract that cannot be broken and tell him three times before he finally bought the story.
Pulling the car around to the front of the hospital, you see him being wheeled out.
“Thank you again so much for taking care of me,” he says, winking at the nurse, “Best care I’ve ever received!”
“No problem at all, Dieter,” she giggles. 
“Could I possibly get your number?” Dieter asks, looking expectantly at the nurse after getting settled into the passenger seat of the car. She shakes her head violently.
“No, sorry,” she says before running off wheeling the wheelchair back into the building.
“Well, that was fucking weird,” Dieter says, looking at you. “Did I do something wrong? Most women don’t literally run from me like that.”
“No, Mr. Bravo, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you growl, “Nothing at all.”
You begin to play a song you hope might bring back some sort of memory of you. With all the hope you can muster you hit play and hear Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz, one of the songs you guys would listen to while you got high together. Dieter starts to chuckle listening to the song.
“What?” you snap at him.
“It’s just this song,” Dieter said grinning, “It reminds me of someone.”
“Oh?” you ask, trying not to pry too much hoping he’ll just continue talking.
“Yeah, I can’t remember what her name is, though. Good lay, that’s for damn sure,” he says, laughing a little, “All I remember is she wasn’t even in the business, she’d call me out on all my shit, and we would smoke weed together listening to this song a lot. I think that’s why I liked her. Wonder what she’s up to these days?”
“Oh um… who knows, maybe she’s still in town?” Your heart swells realizing he’s talking about you, that he remembers some remnants of you. 
“No way!” Dieter says and sighs, “Way too fucking good for someone like me anyways. Probably found some nice guy, got married, has kids, the whole white picket fence shit and everything. She was way out of my league.”
Pulling up to the house you don’t even know what to say to him. He looks almost defeated in a way and then looks confused when he sees the front door opening.
“Oh no,” you whisper, watching Luna run to the car, “Dieter, wait here. Do not move!”
“Why the fuck are there children at my house?” he asks while you’re getting out, but you shut the door behind you, ignoring him.
“Luna, baby, I need you to go back into the house. Daddy’s sick, remember?” you say, trying to usher her back up the driveway.
“Mommy!” Leo shrieks, running to you.
“Fuck – I mean fudge,” Andy says, frantically running out to the driveway, “I was in the bathroom. She must’ve heard the car, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“The hell is going on here?” Dieter’s voice booms while getting out of the car, “I asked you why there are kids in my house.”
“Da–” Luna starts, but you cut her off.
“You two, inside. Now,” you say, ushering them towards Andy. Once they’re inside you whip around to look at Dieter standing by the car.
“You,” you snarl, walking towards him, “Screw what the doctor said. I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m not your fucking assistant so stop bossing me around. I’m your wife – those two are our children!”
“Wha–” Dieter stares at you with wide eyes, “D– DNA Test, I want a fucking DNA test!”
“Dieter, there isn’t a need for a DNA test because they’re your kids. I mean, did you even look at them?”
“Those are not my kids, they look Latino,” he argues.
“Dieter!” you yell, “You are Latino.”
“Oh, yeah,” he whispers, looking down. “So, you’re my wife?”
“Yes, Dieter, I’m your wife. I’m the girl that would get high with you listening to Clint Eastwood.”
“Wild,” he says looking at the house, the ground below him, the yard, anywhere but you “Wild.”
It’s been a week at home now, but Dieter is trying his hardest to regain his memory after you lay everything out on the table for him. You show him pictures of your Las Vegas wedding, your pregnancy photos, the kids’ births – he finally relents to the truth when you show him their birth certificates with his name listed under Father. Luna has been trying to show him drawings that she’s done for him, but nothing is working. Poor Leo just wants to play superheroes, but at just three years old, he doesn’t understand what’s going on at all.
One night, after you put the kids to bed, Dieter comes to your bedroom.
“What if we had sex?” he suggests.
“Dieter, I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” you groan, flopping onto the bed rubbing your eyes.
“I’m just saying, what if we did?” he shrugs, “Was just a suggestion, but I get it.”
“Come here,” you say, patting the spot next to you in bed. He reluctantly sits down next to you as you open your arms as an invitation. “How about we cuddle?”
He nods, setting his head on your chest. You can tell he didn’t know what to do with his hands because he’s so tense. You grab one of them and push it around your back, hoping he’ll understand your silent suggestion. 
“Like this?” he whispers, carefully adjusting both arms to wrap around you.
“Just like that,” you hum, stroking the curls at the base of his neck, breathing his scent in for the first time in weeks. Clean laundry, a hint of eucalyptus, and something that’s so specifically Dieter.
“I like this,” Dieter purs, rubbing his head against your chest, “I wish so badly I could just remember everything.”
“I know D, I know,” you sigh, continuing to gently stroke his head, “We’ll get there.”
Dieter moves so his head is in the crook of your neck. You feel his lips begin to place soft kisses against your skin.
“Dieter,” you gasp, turning your head to look at him, “What are you doing?”
“I wanna make you feel better,” he says, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can never refuse. “You’ve had to deal with a lot and this is the only way I know how to try and make things right.”
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding your head. As much as you’ve avoided intimacy with Dieter while his memory was gone, he’s still your Dieter and you miss him. 
He starts nipping along your jaw and down your neck. One of his hands moves to your breast gently kneading it. His lips move down your throat to your chest, making his way down to your stomach and pushing your shirt up. He places several kisses around your navel down to the top of your underwear, looking up at you again for confirmation. “It’s okay,” you nod, giving him the go ahead. He peels them off your hips and down your legs, throwing them to the floor.
Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your seam. Working his tongue against your clit and back down to your entrance. Up and down, up and down.
“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed this,” you cry out, running your fingers through his hair, “Feels so fucking good!”
Dieter starts humming, loving the praise you were giving him. His tongue continues circling your bundle of nerves, hoping to hear more words of praise.
“Taste so fucking good,” he says breaking away, “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”
You grip his hair tightly and shove his face back to your core. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you can feel your orgasm approaching.
“Please don’t stop,” you moan, “I’m so fucking close!”
Dieter doubles down his efforts after hearing those words. He’s determined to get you off now. One of his hands makes its way to your center, teasing your entrance before plunging two of his thick fingers inside, curling them up to hit that spot only he’s ever been able to reach.
“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, back arching, “Y– yes, just like that!”
He starts grunting, rutting into the mattress, so badly needing to make you come. He knows you’re close, listening to your breathing and hearing the pitch of your moans. 
“D,” you moan, while he grabs your thighs, pulling you unbelievably closer to his face to completely devour you before sliding his fingers back into you. “I’m gonna come!”
“Give it to me, baby, come on,” he says, pulling away panting before diving back in for more, “I need it”. He feels the way your legs begin to shake, your walls fluttering around his fingers.
“Fuck,” you hiss, head thrown back against the pillow closing your eyes, “I– I’m gonna… god.”
Dieter feels your walls constrict around his fingers and hums, collecting your release slowly. He takes his time licking you clean before you push him away, feeling overly sensitive. When you finally open your eyes to look at him, you notice his smile and a glint in his eyes. He crawls back up the length of your body and you grab his face, kissing him deeply tasting yourself on his tongue.
“I can’t believe you married me,” he says, breaking the kiss and wrapping his arms around you again, “Love me forever?”
“Dieter, I’m pretty sure I’ve already proven that I’ll love you forever,” you softly chuckle, beginning to stroke his back.
The doctor keeps saying to just be patient, that it’s going to take time for Dieter’s memory to return. But it feels like it’s been forever as another week passes. Everyone is getting frustrated, especially Leo.
“Why is daddy broke?” Leo screams at the top of his lungs, “He no play with me!”
“Leo, Daddy just doesn’t feel good,” you try to explain.
“He no like me!” Leo wails, “He only likes Luna.”
“Leo, daddy does too like you,” you try telling him, “He loves you very much.” 
“No,” Leo cries as you scoop him up as he buries his face into your shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” you soothe.
It wasn’t that Dieter wasn’t trying with the kids, he just didn’t know how. His dad instincts hadn’t been brought back full-force. He was great with Luna –  engaged in conversation with her, drew pictures with her, watched her put on fashion shows. With Leo though, he didn’t know how to interact with a toddler. Leo would get upset and Dieter didn’t know what to do besides call you for help. Before Dieter’s accident Leo was his little buddy, followed him everywhere, would play with him for hours being superheroes or whatever Leo decided on that day.
You were able to get Leo to calm down and because of his tantrum he wound up falling asleep. After putting him in his bed for a nap you went to search for Dieter.
“Hey,” you sigh, seeing him standing by the window looking into the backyard.
“Hey,” he says sniffling, wiping his sleeve against his nose, “I’m so sorry.”
“Dieter, I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to. Leo misses you! I know that you’re trying, I do, but I need you to try harder for him,” you sigh, “I can’t pretend that I even know what you’re going through, but our baby boy is hurting because he misses his dad!”
“I know,” Dieter says turning around, you could now see the tears falling down his face, “It’s just… he scares me! It’s easier with Luna because I can understand every word she says, she can show me things, she doesn’t throw a tantrum every five minutes.”
“Dieter, he’s your son! Not some little monster to be scared of! He’s three and doesn’t know any better,” you scold him, “Like I said, I just need you to try.”
“Okay,” Dieter agrees, wiping the tears off his face, “When he wakes up from his nap, I’ll try.”
Dieter could hear Leo awake in his room as he slowly made his way there.
“Dad-Bomb an’ dude-bomb! To rescue!” Leo says, jumping off his bed with a cape around his shoulders. Dieter stands in the doorway observing him. Why did that sound so familiar? Dad-Bomb.
“Hey Leo,” Dieter says cautiously, “What are you playing?”
“Superhero,” Leo smiles, “Want to play with me?”
“Can I?” Dieter exclaims, “I’ve always wanted to be a superhero!”
“Yeah!” Leo shouts, running to his closet to grab something. He comes back out with a big purple cape with D-B on the back, handing it to Dieter. “Put on your cape.”
Dieter pulls the cape around his neck, tying it so it wouldn’t fall off. He notices Leo’s little green cape he was wearing also had D-B on the back.
“Do we have names, Leo?” Dieter asks, “I can’t help but see we have stuff on the back of our super-awesome capes!”
“I’m Dude-Bomb, you’re Dad-Bomb!” Leo gleefully exclaims 
“Dad-Bomb?”
“Yeah, like ‘da-bomb’ –  means super cool,” Leo giggles.This was starting to feel extremely familiar to Dieter. 
Leo scampers off to his closet again, rummaging through it trying to find something. He comes back holding a piece of paper and hands it to Dieter. Dieter holds it up, staring at it. His drawing of Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb, fighting crime together, and it all comes rushing back.
“Oh my god, Leo,” Dieter yells.
He picks Leo up, swinging him around. Hearing the commotion, you start running towards Leo’s room fearing the worst. Rounding the corner into the room, you saw Dieter crying, hugging Leo tightly and swinging him back and forth.
“Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb!” Dieter exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah, that’s you an’ me!” Leo announces proudly.
“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, looking at both of them.
“Yeah. March 3, 2016 – that’s the day I met you,” Dieter says, tears rolling down his face.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “Baby.”
“Yeah, baby. It’s all back,” he says, setting Leo back down and rushing to grab you in a tight embrace, “I’m back.”
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olderthannetfic · 19 days
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I always see people who have never been antis, talking about/questioning how some antis even ARE antis when you look at their taste in media - ie the ever famous joke of "Hannigram is #problematique" "but it's a show where he eats people" or whatever.
I thought I'd weigh in as someone who could, hypothetically, be called an ex-anti (which, thankfully, nothing ever really came out of it - it was just very 2014 keyboardwarrior-esque behavior of me being a chronically online young adult who would share posts in a group chat making fun of certain shippers, or reblog posts about how 50shades is The Most Problematic Media Ever to exist -- basically I was an anti with anti-lines of thoughts, but i never, like, a ran a Shipping Discourse Blog or whatever)
For me, personally, it was a few different things. I can now see how it's incredibly hypocritical that teenaged me shipped Light/L, while still thinking that Dramione was Bad And Abusive. It ultimately boiled down to a) being pretentious, and b) just not understanding media or what proshippers REALLY believed, with a side of c) not realizing that nuance exists. like i was pretty late to join tumblr, I think I immigrated here during PEAK "yourfaveisproblematic" era which definitely did have an impact on my opinions and my tastes.
to elaborate, a.) being pretentious. i mean this one just kinda goes without saying. "I engage in media in a way more intellectual way than you do, don't you know that? You're a filthy and disgusting person who writes Snape/Hermione because you're an actually disgusting pedophile IRL who would probably date your own student that you're abusing if you could. Meanwhile, I'm a very smart, good, and pure person. When I read Uncle Vernon/Harry, I'm doing it in a G-d honoring whump way that clearly condemns abuse, incest, and rape. Unlike YOU who only writes harmful stuff as a way to get people off :/"
(as an aside, i think this line of thinking will ALWAYS be present in fandom and popculture in some way, sadly. ie the recent trend of people hating on booktok bc the books are 'trashy' and how these porn addicts should read real classic literature instead.)
as for b.), not understanding media - i cannot emphasize enough that i was GENUINELY stupid and disconnected enough to think that proshippers REALLY WERE pro-All Of The Degenerate Dead Doves That They Wrote.
why did i feel this way? why did i understand that Lolita clearly isnt pro-pedophilia, but for some reason i thought that someone shipping weecest was? well, first of all, i think that fanfiction is (generally) seen as Less Serious than classic literature, and fandom is a fun place, so i guess i somehow thought that every fanfic/fanartist who wrote Problematic Things, especially Problematic Things that they portrayed as Sexy, really DID enjoy the thought of that Actually Happening To Real People.
and i think THIS is the bulk of why antis ARE antis. i'm not calling them all stupid - i do think BEING an anti is stupid, but at the same time, there are people who are truly smart and good-intended people who just have some really off color opinions about, like, homestuck ships or whatever. Lawlight is okay because notebooks that kill people don't exist so it's IMPOSSIBLE for the Harmful Aspects of Light/L to be romanticized! but schoolyard prejudiced bullies DO exist and are a REAL problem so Drarry is BAD (*truly completely unaware of the fact that there's 'realistic' aspects of the Light/L dynamic and 'unrealistic' aspects of Drarry - such as, for example, Hogwarts arguably being even MORE of a fantasy setting than DN is.*) I know that media literacy is the hot buzzword of the year to throw around in 2024, but, like, i really did not have media literacy.
as for c.), not realizing nuance exists - ok "nuance" might not be the best word here, but i dont know how else to describe it. like, each time ive typed the word "problematic" out in this ask, i've done so in a very tongue in cheek/ironic/retroactive way, but, like, those posts about how Everything Is Problematic, Including Your Fave ARE true. and i didn't like the fact that my favorite media or favorite person might've Made A Mistake! i need to Talk About Its Issues Because I'm So Betrayed That My Dear Sweet Comfort Media Would Do This To Me. I Need To Prove I Clearly Condemn It.
like, i legit morally could not justify reblogging a twilight post without adding in the tags '#this is my guilty pleasure it sucks that the books were so racist though' or whatever. Most people were lucky enough to avoid that line of thinking, but there was an actual group of people who felt a genuine need to virtue signal all the time, partly bc, hey, they WERE passionate about talking abt #issues in media, but also bc of a subconscious fear of If You Reblog A Singular Piece Of Hetalia Fanart, You're Literally A Nazi And Will Get A Callout Post Written About You.
and during all of this i was at the tail end of my high school experience (yes i know im younger than most of your audience, ha). i was going through A Lot emotionally, going through a lot of life changes, and lived in a very . . . interesting household/place where i couldn't do ACTUAL good in the world that i was passionate about. so to make up for the fact that i was genuinely in no place to do legit activism, clearly i had to save the gay community by arguing about johnlock queerbaiting or whatever.
^ and honestly i do think that is the position of most antis. theyre isolated and cant seem to do Enough in the Real Scary World so they have to resort to talking about how bad of a person someone is for "shipping abuse", bc theyre not in a situation where they could, for example, ACTUALLY fight the good fight to end abuse or raise awareness for it.
There was way more to it and way more that I could say, if I wanted to, but this post is long enough as it is and probably doesn't make much sense.
I feel bad for antis, honestly, or at least the ones who are antis in the way I used to be.
--
Oh yes, passionate young fools who think they can at least fix the internet if not their lives make up most of the cannon fodder. Some of the ringleaders are just mini dictators and wannabe cult leaders, but most anti-leaning types are just traumatized or clueless, even a lot of the ones who do serious damage and don't just mock shit in private with their friends.
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Would you mind sharing your planning process of the comic? I'm starting to brainstorm a fiction idea and right now the ideas are very messy and I wanted to know if you could show how you plan what happens on a season and on an episode, maybe with an example of a season episode you already published, so I can learn how to organize myself?
I really, REALLY appreciate you coming to ask me for help with this. It's awesome to hear that you respect my writing enough to seek me out as an authority on such things, or at least enough to ask for advice.
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But I'm gonna be real with you - what you're asking for is not a quick slapdash reply that I can whip up in my free time. What you're asking for is an hour long video essay (with examples) on the level of an educational creative writing online course.
And I--I don't know if I have it in me to do that right now. Not with everything else I'm trying to do. (Sorry.)
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BUT.
What I can give you instead is a basic rundown, and maybe some recommendations for where to this stuff.
To be absolutely brief: For me, the best way to visualize how I plan would be to make a flowchart.
Keep in mind that....... I don't ever actually.......MAKE. A flowchart.
Mostly, I am just using this as a visual representation of how my ideas flow from and to each other in a coherent way. The reality is that this skill is something you have to develop until it becomes second nature.
As an example, let's take the episode(s) where I introduced Seaglass.
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This little arc was planned in season 3, but really started to come into play in Season 4.
To make it happen, I started with the obvious main idea: SEAGLASS.
I then broke it down into multiple smaller ideas:
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If you notice, the main plot of this doesn't even start when the Seaglass exposition does. Steven makes Seaglass back in season 3, but doesn't know about it. But these ideas are still important to acknowledge as being a part of the main plot.
I then fill in MORE space between these larger ideas.
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This whole set of steps is just a logical progression of me playing 'how do we get there'. I make up plot points and say 'what happens to get from A to B?'
And keep in mind - this may seem kinda obvious. That's because... it should be! But that's how the planning happens.
Realistically, it's just a bunch of asking myself questions. The same exact questions I refuse to answer in asks.
"What happens next? What would happen if....?" "Why doesn't Steven know about ....?"
"How would Steven find Seaglass if he doesn't know she exists?"
Well she's small and green, kinda like Peridot. So he goes looking for Peridot and mistakes Seaglass for her.
BAM! You've got yourself a plot point. That's a plan, baybee!
And then just kinda rinse and repeat.
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And eventually, you want to make sure that you have some sort of connection back to the main plot point. In this case, it's the realization that Steven CREATED LIFE.
Again, I want to stress - I don't actually........plan.... by writing this down.
I do this process in my head. Often, multiple times per chapter, writing and editing to make it make more and more sense. The important part is about asking yourself questions. The same questions your readers should be asking.
"Why is this character doing this?" "Why is this event happening NOW?" "How will A find out when they realize what B has done?" "What is the BEST time for B to find out...? What is the WORST time?"
All of this takes imagination. It isn't about organization. It's moreso about learning to tetris plot events into their most snug spaces. It's about thinking of events as a staircase, which eventually leads to a larger staircase of plot arcs.
And as a final note, I will say that someday, when I'm less busy, I may make a video about plot. But it will take more time and effort, and for now, please just watch videos by other creators! I'm sure they're just as good at it as I am.
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AITA for telling my mom to either get me what I've asked for, or to just get me gift cards?
This probably makes me sound horrible and ungrateful, but this is an issue I've had for about the last ten years of my life. I love my mother dearly, and I am so insanely grateful that we are in a financial position where we can receive gifts at all. I'd genuinely be happy with just a card and a cozy day in, but my mom always insists it isn't Christmas without at least one or two things under the tree.
I always ask her routinely as we inch toward the later months of the year what she'd like, and I do my best to get her exactly what she wants. I'll get her one or two other things too, like some skincare or chocolates or shoes or something, but I always stick to what she actually asks for.
If she asks me for a specific dress, she'll get it. If she asks me for a certain type of perfume, she'll get it.
The same....Cannot be said for her.
I've begged her over the years to just stick to getting me what I ask for. I don't ask for anything expensive. I think the most expensive thing I've ever asked for were concert tickets, and I offered to pay half. I just more or less wanted help actually getting them, because as we all know, concert tickets sell so fast its like you blink and they're gone, and the more people you have trying to get them the more chances of success.
Usually I'll ask for something like a particular poster I saw online, or a bedding set, a new phone case, ect. Small, easy to get things because honestly, I don't need that much.
What I actually end up with is a bunch of random stuff I will never use and clothing I'd never wear and once or twice, tickets to do things I hate doing.
Its like she asks me what I want then goes out of her way to get me the exact opposite of what I've asked for. She always pouts at me and berates me for 'looking disappointed' or never using anything she gets me (I hold onto it for a few months then quietly give it away to a friend or thrift store).
It makes me feel guilty, but this is a conversation we have every. Single. Christmas.
(For example I'll ask for, say, a pair of white shoes. What I'll actually get is a box of wind up toys from the dollar store, expensive paint brushes when I've never touched paint in my life, and a box of chocolates from a brand I don't like.)
This year, once again, she asked me for my list, and I just gave her some stores and told her I'd like gift cards to those places. She gave me a weird look and dropped it, but asked again a few times, and each time I just reiterated what stores I wanted gift cards to.
Well lo behold, I come home from college and there's packages under the tree. Proper packages, not just envelopes or anything else that a gift card would realistically be in.
I guess I was staring at the tree with a weird/sour expression, because it wound up starting an argument between us. Her argument was she's getting me gifts, I should be grateful, and she tries really hard but I'm just 'impossible to please.'
My argument is I tell her repeatedly exactly what I want and not once have I ever gotten what's actually on my list. In which case, why the fuck should I bother writing a list? I'd rather have the gift cards so I can buy exactly what I wanted in the first place.
She said I ask for clothes, I get clothes. I said I ask for specific clothes and she gets me ones that I wouldn't even look at in the store, let alone buy.
The whole argument ended up with her calling me an ungrateful asshole and confiscating my gifts to return them all after the New Year. She told me I can just have the money from returning them and 'be fucking happy for once.'
Its Christmas Eve and she's still not speaking to me. I feel terrible, but I'm also relieved. Either this means from now on she won't get me anything, or from now on if she asks for my list she'll actually get me what's on it.
My dad is staying in the middle. He said I'm right, and over the years he's tried to convince her not to buy all that stuff, but he also said I should've just done what I always do, fake a smile, and get rid of it later.
Is he right or was this fight a blessing in disguise? Am I the asshole for ruining Christmas or am I justified in voicing what I have for the last ten years running?
What are these acronyms?
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Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.
For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.
However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.
We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.
There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.
Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.
At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.
Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.
A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.
A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.
Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.
TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.
EDIT:
Actually wait I think I have more to say-
Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.
There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!
However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.
I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.
And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.
You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.
Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.
Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.
Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.
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bonefall · 2 months
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Looking for advice since you're great with stuff like this: I'm struggling with how to have a character fundamentally change. A character in my cat story loses his memory and ends up working with the main characters to stop his own plan he made to destroy the world (and after the plan is stopped, he regains his memories). I want his time in the Starless to change him, make him less obsessed with power, but I'm really starting to struggle with whether or not that makes sense and how to work that.
Hmm.. well, first bit of advice I always give is that characters are not people. They are writing tools. That doesn't mean they shouldn't be "realistic" or that connecting to the human traits in the audience isn't important.
It means that a character exists to tell a story.
By "tool" I mean "machine." Every trait is a piston, and ideally they work together to drive your story along. What are you saying with each trait? What is your beginning point for the story, and their end? What do you want to explore? What do you want the audience to take away?
So if you feel stuck on a character, find the larger message you want to impart with them. The job they're doing in your narrative.
What do you want to say about power?
What do you want to say about why Character X wanted to destroy the world? Why was he wrong? What feelings and information lead him to that conclusion?
What is his redemption arc doing for your themes?
Every writer answers those questions differently. For example, I feel strongly that power doesn't corrupt, it reveals. When you finally have the influence to make others do what you want, you make them do it. I don't see "power" as being like... a magic, abstract thing, it's influence over other people, and those people are ALSO individuals with their own reasons for following the leader.
Digressing; what I'm getting at is that, as a writer, I have a lot of thoughts on power itself. I got this way with a lot of reading and interest on the topic. You might find it insightful to experience more art, essays, and commentary on the subject, if you ever get stuck, and develop an opinion you feel strongly about.
Not just about power, as broad writing advice.
Anyway.
If I was writing the character, these are the things I'd be thinking about specifically and changes I'd be making on personal taste. I don't know your full story enough so, hopefully it's insightful;
First of all I'm always SUPER wary of the "correct but demonized radical" trope. Does my villain have a point?
Am i just giving them a Kick-a-Baby scene to make them wrong when they should be completely right otherwise
What are my themes and tone? This is VERY important. Steven Universe is about family and emotions with low stakes violence; the Diamonds are essentially abusive grandparents that Steven is coaching through intergenerational trauma. They fit the universe they're in. Jack Horner does not belong in SU.
So I'd look at Character X's purpose.
Knowing me, I'd actually take out full amnesia entirely. I have memory problems related to trauma so I'm a lot more familiar with major, important details blotting out RIGHT when I need them. Enough that I can put myself in the shoes of someone like BB!Fallenleaf who remembers a lot but the details are fuzzy.
So personally I think I could write this villan to be VERY funny lmao
"Hello. I am Gnagnathor the Destroyer."
"No you're not. He has three horns. You have two."
(DID I USED TO HAVE THREE HORNS?????)
I also just find it more resonant when a character still remembers what they did, why they did it, and is able to refute themselves with their own growth.
To me like... when a character remembers NOTHING to the point where they're not informed by their actions or history at all, how are they really still the same person?
in general though I find total amnesia uninteresting. I wish it was less popular.
What did Gnagnathor DO with his power? What did he WANT from it?
The simplest version of this I know is "Gnag was hurting and wanted everyone else to hurt too. Now that he has a happy place, he doesn't want that."
TO BE CLEAR THATS FINE. That's a REALLY common power fantasy and it's not automatically a bad story. It's popular for a reason.
Personally I feel strongly about the idea, though, that people with power don't change unless they lose it. There's no reason to.
People don't change until you break the environment that contributes to the behavior.
Especially with victims unfortunately-- the ugly truth is that a lot of problematic behaviors exist because they protected the victim from their abuser's actions. You need safety to really start to unpack that.
You can personally identify it and address it as much as you want, when your abuser starts to use That Tone you will still seize up. Just try to yank yourself back into your head when you're disassociating during a screaming session; your reward is raw distress.
That said, not all villains HAVE to have tragic motivators like that, or be ex-victims at all. Leveraging power to get what you want can be as ugly as just being taught the people you're hurting are subhuman.
Or making up justifications for why This Is a Good Thing Actually.
Some people will lash out violently when these justifications fall apart, because accepting it would mean they're Being Bad
Most people have an innate desire to Be Good. Like... the vast, vast majority of people. Some sense of morality is observable in all intelligent social animals; dolphins, chimps, elephants.
Tangentially, if you understand that people don't WANT to be bad and that the natural response to a scolding is defensiveness, you understand that convincing people of something is a LOT easier when you approach with kindness.
AND IN TURN: be wary of those who are flattering while trying to convince you of something. This is Manipulation 101.
So back to Gnagnathor
Do I want to talk about environment and how it changes him to be away from power? How traits that previously earned him wealth or influence are suddenly incredibly taboo, so he can't use them here?
On that-- HOW did he get his power in the first place? Re: I'm very wary of the "correct but demonized radical" trope.
Were his minions following him because they have serious issues and he exploited their desperation? .....are you centering the experience of the poor, sad abuser over his victims
Or are they ALL united over something important and legitimate? With the redemption of their villainous leader, how are you planning for that to frame all of their former followers?
(This is why redeeming minions is usually a lot more productive than doing it to the leader, imo. Redeeming Zuko means you can explore the familial legacy, the indoctrination of the Fire Nation's children, their justifications, the way systems make monsters out of people. Redeeming The Firelord would probably have caused Azula, one of his victims, to pick up his slack and now, suddenly, you have a VERY uncomfortable situation where Ozai is thrashing one of his abused children but Good This Time.)
(Not to mention that, again... why would he do this. He has power. He's doing what he wants and is used to this situation. It would be a numbskulled narrative choice.)
Aaaand that's about all I can say without essentially being a cowriter or editor. It's on you to figure out what you're trying to do and say here. I'm a good writer on this subject because I think about it a lot, which has lead to my strong opinions and point of view. Your art is a reflection of you.
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weebsinstash · 10 months
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Not gonna lie if I were the reader after they got replaced by YouTwo I would be a neurotic mess lmao. I already mental issues but I can't imagine going through their trauma on top of everything. I would definitely be scratching myself again out of sheer stress and anxiety about whether or not everybody will replace me again. My arms would look horrible. Oh boy imagine everybody's reaction to realizing they've messed up this badly and absolutely ruined the reader
Other people: fun ways we can write! Coffee shop au! Red string of fate! Hanahaki! Enemies to lovers!
me: what if I sat and tried to seriously and realistically contemplate the ramifications of a severely traumatic experience and the following neurotic habits that arise from the spiral down
Reader gets back to Spider Society, either glitching back in or "being rescued" whatever, and, you're just doing shit like digging food out of the trash "you'd never guess what kinds of perfectly good stuff people throw away, and it saves time to not have to wait for anything to be prepped! Never know when you'll vanish in the middle of a meal or that one serial killer will pop out at you again!! Ahaha!
Someone comes to check on you and you deadass have a fucking, tripwire web trap all around you, you're not even sleeping in a bed you're in your own webbing (because we rock organic webbing here because it fucks) so the second anything like, opens the door of your apartment or comes near you, you're instantly aware. Peter B comes in "heeeey, just wanna check in, make sure you're doing ok--" and there's fucking web wires rattling cans as he opens the front door and suddenly you're wide awake with an actual fucking knife or some kind of equally brutal survivalist weapon and it takes you a few seconds to fully snap out of it and let him calm you down and he has to tell Miguel You Are In Fact Not Doing Ok
You've got real "scaring all your loved ones and everyone around you" energy during those times you're just like going through some manic shit, opening your mouth and going on a sudden 'epiphany' like "i know what would help!! I'm gonna start cutting my face in really visible prominent places and that way you guys will know by the scar who I am :) and when it heals I'll cut myself again :) and again :) maybe I should just cut off a finger, how many of me do you think are missing fingers? Or maybe I could give myself a cool scar!!" And it's just like. What the fuck do they even say to that. A lot of them just genuinely could cry over this, seeing what this did to you. You sound genuinely cheerful at the realization and give no mind to how casually you just suggested self harm out of paranoia and self preservation.
You're just having like hard-core eating disorder issues going from overeating to undereating, binging because you're suffer9ng trauma from starving and then starving yourself "no its fasting, I'm FASTING to save food and money and resources, ok, I can only fit so much in my backpack and--"
You have this backpack from your multiversal glitching travels and keeping it with you basically 24/7 even when you go to the bathroom becomes a comfort habit, because, "never know when your camp has been found by the runners and you've gotta make a break for it" or some other cryptic memory you babble at them like you're discussing coffee when it could be one of the most vile horrifying things they've ever heard
I think the most interesting but tricky thing I've thought of is, what if Reader's trauma-humor coping mechanism gets dialed up to 11 and you can basically never turn it off because, your brain is protecting yourself. It's like you're Doing A Bit but literally all the time like some traumatized method actor and you're just, they're never sure if you're actually telling the truth or actually recounting things you experienced after a while
"Oh man the last time I ate a meal this big was when I finally stopped glitching and I had to break into someone's house and rob them for food! Just call me Santa Claus! But this Earth had suffered a nuclear fallout so all they had was like, DRY CRACKERS and, a lotta canned stuff, icky, and, I was in the middle of trying to pry a tin of lil cocktail weenies open with my teeth when the irradiated house centipedes smelled my blood, just imagine like a normal centipede but, like, the size of a Shetland pony, hey, friendship really IS magic right, and me and these centipedes got SO close, so anyways they smelled my blood, right, and it made them hungry, and--" and here you got like The Entire Squad speechless, Hobies just over here like "fuck, I don't even know what to say to that, you want some ketamine bruv" and yall just hit em with "nah last time I tried ketamine I had a fever dream of being replaced by an evil clone and I was shunned by all my close friends who i thought of like family. Oh wait, that was you guys! That's awkward!"
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theminecraftbee · 5 months
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hello i am FASCINATED by how well you write absolutely everyone in mcyt and so i must ask directly: do you. like. have a big document with all your notes on them and their speech patterns and traits and personalities and stuff. or does it just Come natural. is it some secret third thing
if its the first thing: would you be so inclined to perhaps share those notes with the world... for the people... for society... for the greater good of all man... Maybe...
if its the second thing: i violently applaud you through sobs. what the hell. How. wish that were me
if its some secret third thing: i still kindly ask for you to share some thoughts on characterization, or tips and things for it because. the posts you've made like that in the past have very quickly become biblical to me. i'd love some big master post about every hermit's and/or life-series-er's speech patterns or something since you just... write them so well all the time without fail. its phenomenal.
no big document! and I probably won’t write a masterpost, either—I actually tend to not be great at articulating how I write my characterization. my specialization went into “writing fic” more than “writing meta” and while I’m getting BETTER at the latter, I’m still not always good at articulating exactly the things that people probably look for when they look for someone to give them characterization tips.
I’d almost say two is the right option here, but that’s not really fair either—while “it came to me in a vision” is the response I have to a lot of people asking “how did you write that thing”, I should note that I have ALSO been writing for over a decade now and watch a lot of mcyt! so between the practice and watching a good amount of the source material to get everyone’s voices into my head, it’s not really “it came natural fully formed” so much as “it feels natural to me because I’ve practiced a lot”, you know?
if you want shortcuts to realistic dialogue, look for what kinds of words the person you’re writing tends to repeat, use, not use. also, don’t discount osmosis from other people in the fandom; some of my characterization is definitely made up of me having practice synthesizing the thoughts I get looking at other people’s stuff. shortcuts to characterization in general are… harder… but remember that people are Weird when they feel emotions, but they’re still PEOPLE, and aim for that, and you’ll start to get stuff. but the thing is that most of this is just… a lot of practice.
and like, that’s a large part of what it comes down to—watch the guys you want to write so you can hear their voices in your head more easily, and then practice. and then over time you’ll find the shortcuts and style that work for you and how to use those to characterize things! heck, you may even get to the point you start to have Strong Opinions, which is always fun; the other reason I won’t write a characterization document is that I always disagree with several items on any such document I’ve read for a fandom I write and that’s okay. not everyone is going to characterize everyone the same way or fully agree on what is or isn’t in character, and I don’t want to be too centralizing, you know?
so you know… the best place to start is to get started! good luck out there!
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tranakin-skywalker · 2 months
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Story Masterlist
Figured I should finally make one of these so y'all know what the fuck I'm talking about when I go on about my silly little au ideas. I'll be updating this list as I publish things/ come up with new ideas. Published fics have a hyperling to their ao3 embedded in their title.
THE BIG BOYS
Singularity:
Half canon re-write, half me going "hey wouldn't it be fucked up if _?" Basically I packed all my favorite little headcanons and tropes into one five-part monster of a series, featuring things like eldritch demigod Anakin, Force deities, fucked up Naboo politics, sentient droids, and a Galactic Civil War that actually feels Galactic and like a war. Somehow ended up with me both trying to make Star Wars more realistic, and leans way more into the mythological side of the story. Also features a ton of my own original concepts. A pantheon of Tatooine gods and slave culture inspired loosely by Fialleril, Sith religion and rituals, clone culture and language built around the idea that they've been dehumanized and un-personed for their entire existence, and a bunch of stuff about the Coruscant underworld. You can find more about it under my fic:singularity tag
Star-Birth:
The first part of Singularity more or less covering the events of TPM with a few... creative liberties taken. Status: Published/ Ongoing Word Count: 92,740
Accretion:
Part II of Singularity covering the years of Anakin's apprenticeship between TPM and AOTC, as well as looks into both the lives of Shmi and Padme. I took inspiration from a bunch of the stories in Legends covering this time period but most of it is my own thing. This is the one that goes the deepest into the functions and every day life of the Jedi, as well as life on Coruscant in general. An exploration of the disconnect between the governing body of the Senate and the wider galaxy, the wealth disparity on Coruscant and just how fucking dystopian it is, and generally how something like the Clone Wars could come about. Status: Unpublished
Asterism:
Part III of Singularity. AOTC if I butchered it's body and reassembled it in the imagine of my own design. Some of the movie's plot points remain but I'm attempting to get from Point A to Point B as originally as I can while still keeping with the heart of Attack of the Clones. Status: Unpublished
Nucleosynthesis:
Part IV of Singularity. The Clone Wars but not the animated version. We are going full Republic comics version baby. Ahsoka is still here tho, because I love her. Basically my idea of what a galactic civil war would actually look like, featuring space battles that last for months on end, widespread disease outbreaks, planets completely wiped out of existence, billions of combatants, and war crimes galore. The size of this war is immense. Like, there's over 1 billion active duty clones at any given time. (Which actually isn't even all that much compared to the population of the Republic at large lol) Probably the most space opera of the series. Status: Unpublished
Event Horizon:
Fifth and final part of Singularity. Essentially it's version of RotS, but with a vastly different ending. And beginning. And middle. Basically it's RotS if you squint. This I think is going to be the one that goes the deepest into the mythological/ fantasy aspects of the story. The Force and all it's weirdness is a huge aspect of this one. This is also the fic that goes the deepest into the Sith and all their awfulness. It features a much beloved headcanon of mine that when a Sith master is killed by their apprentice, part of their consciousness enters into their apprentice as a sort of living holocron. Which means that the current Sith master is essentially possessed by all the Sith that came before them and is constantly having to fight to keep control of their own body. It serves both as a way to pass on all the Sith teachings (since a living master would have a vested interest in keeping knowledge from their apprentice and thus a lot of that knowledge would be lost over time) and as an attempt at immortality. A strong enough spirit can take control of a weak enough vessel. Unfortunately for all those Sith masters, any apprentice who is able to go on and kill their own master isn't going to be in any way weak. A full, proper possession in the Sith lineage has been few and far between. I imagine y'all can guess what this means for Sidious' intentions with Anakin, a living vergence of the Force and for all intents and purposes immortal (even if Anakin won't let himself acknowledge that fact). Status: Unpublished
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Cytokinesis:
What started as me asking myself "what if the start of ANH but Vader/Anakin was trans and the twin's gestating parent and thus, recognized Leia immediately?" which then turned into something much much longer than I intended. Oops. The actual story starts during the Clone Wars when Anakin discovers he's been magically impregnated by the Force just like how his own mother was. Deals a lot with gender, parenthood, generational trauma, and repeating cycles. Also clones. Lots and lots with the clones. Their relationship with Anakin after discovering that he's basically a clone of his mother is a huge part of this fic. This particular version is going to follow along the beats of RotS and what comes after more or less (so, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. Sorry) with some divergence here and there. This is the fic I find myself going back and rewriting/tweaking the most. Which is partially why it's taking me so long to update. I'm trying to make this next chapter one I'm completely happy with instead of having to go back and redo it in a few weeks lol. (Tho I think that's part of the fun of fanfic, the ability to go back and change things whenever you want). Honestly, this one is getting so long I might end up having to split it into two fics. fic: cytokinesis tag Status: Published/ Ongoing
Unnamed Cytokinesis Spin-off:
While Cyto is going to have a happy ending, it's going to take a lot of hurt to get there. Which is why I came up with an au to my au where the twins come early, Anakin doesn't fall, and things are happy... ish. The Republic is still a trash fire on the brink of collapse and everyone still has so so much trauma. Even when I write a happy au, things still suck lmao. I just can't imagine a RotS fix-it where things aren't still falling apart and Anakin gets off scot-free for murdering the president of the galaxy. Status: Unpublished
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Groundwater:
Ah yes, the fic that is really three differnt aus in a trench coat. 1. In the midst of galactic instability and the seceding of dozens of planets from the Republic, a revolt begins to spread in the Outer Rim. A revolt led by unknown masked force users, and a suspected Sith known only as Vader. The Jedi scramble to uncover the identity of these new enemies, only to discover a plethora of unpleasant truths that make them begin to question themselves and the very Republic instead. 2. After five years with the Jedi Anakin starts to have nightmares about his mother dying and they. just. won't. stop. He asks Obi-Wan for help, begs him for the chance to go to Tatooine and make sure she's alright. He isn't allowed to go. So he takes matters into his own hands. He leaves in the middle of the night, nothing but a note and a cut padawan braid left behind, and he goes to save his mother. Anakin ends up finding more than just his mother. There's a freedom network, one that Shmi is part of. There is a rebellion brewing, stolen weapons and stolen ships. There is a city in the desert, a paradise made by the hands of escaped slaves. And there are things, old things, powerful things, that he never new existed on Tatooine. Like deep ancient caves carved by the planet's mythical groundwater where kyber crystals grow wild and undiscovered. 3. Darth Vader lived, and then he died. In his son's arms he died, but that wasn't the end of it. There is no death, there is only the Force. And the Force was not done with him yet. He returns, four decades in the past, as a ghost haunting his younger self. Forced into the role of a passive observer, no power, no voice, seen only by one little boy and unable to change anything. Cursed to watch history repeat itself. Or at least that's what he thought. fic: groundwater tag Status: Unpublished
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I Wonder Which One Has My Eyes:
There was something achingly familiar about the pair of droids following the young princess around, Pooja thought. Or Pooja Naberrie, junior senator of Naboo, is invited to a senatorial event on Alderaan. There she meets and befriends young Princess Leia Organa. A few things click into place. This one is actually inspired by @keistance fic Uncle Ani, where the Naberries knew about the Anidala marriage. I thought it would be so so fun if Pooja realized that Leia was her baby cousin and secretly tells Leia all about her birth parents. Which means she goes into ANH knowing all about Padme Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, something that completely derails a certain interrogation with a certain Dark Lord when he stumbles over that particular fact. I'm fascinated by the idea of Leia coming from a similar place as Luke in canon, where she knows her father as a good man named Anakin Skywalker before she ever knew him as Vader. I think that change in perspective would give her the same belief and drive to bring her father back to the Light that Luke has. Also I think both twins ganging up on Vader to bully him into redemption is very funny. Status: Unpublished
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Unnamed Togruta AU:
Or Togruta!Skywalkers. Shmi and Anakin are Tatooine togruta, a rare population of togs that were ensalved from Shili dozens of generations ago and slowly grew to adapt to the desert environment. A characteristic of the Tatooine togs is the forward facing montals, which Anakin has. It's a trait coveted for gladiator slaves since they can be used to pin down/gore opponents. Anakin was occasionally entered into matches as a child where he was forced to fight and kill animals. Had he not been taken by the Jedi, he would have eventually been put in death matches against other sentients. (because I'm lazy I'm just copy/pasting this part from an old ask)
A lot of the ideas are coming from the hyena discord, so I can’t claim them as my own. But they are just too good to pass up. Like togruta making infrasound with their montrals and constantly projecting their moods. So when Anakin first gets to the Temple he’s constantly screaming for him mom at a pitch that only other togruta can hear. I’ve decided that that’s actually how he first meets Ahsoka. She hears him making his lost, scared, where’s mom, where’s family sounds and seeks him out to comfort him. Ahsoka would be about four here, and would have left Shili recently enough that she could still remember what those noises mean, even if Tatooine togruta sound different from Shili togruta. (to a Shili tog Anakin’s distressed noises sound like he’s being maimed, but that’s just because of the generational trauma and general awfulness of being a togruta on Tatooine. What they would think of the vocalizations he makes when actually being maimed we will not think about)
So Anakin and Ahsoka end up growing up together right from the start, and the main reason Anakin is so insistent on being knighted early is so that Ahsoka can be his padawan. It’s a private thought he has to himself at first, but as Ahsoka gets older and no masters are showing any interest in taking her on she starts to panic. Anakin tells her that he’ll just have to get knighted before she ages out so that he can be her master. And then the Clone War starts and he realizes that keeping his promise means bringing her onto the battlefield with him where she could die and he’s not sure if he’ll be enough to keep her alive :) Because Shmi is a togruta too she does not get bought by Cleigg Lars. I am just. not dealing with the implications of that. (Listen. I want to read Shmi’s marriage to him as a good thing, but I have a very hard time doing that.) Now, there’s actually a comic (Legands, I think, not Disney canon) where Gardulla goes to Watto and tries to buy Anakin back after he wins the Boonta Eve Classic. So have some fun thoughts about what would have happened to Anakin if he hadn’t gone with Qui-Gon. In the fic, Gardulla goes to buy Anakin but of course he left with the Jedi, so Gardulla decides she’ll take Shmi as payment for Watto’s debts. After all, if Shmi already had one child who turned out to be a talented podracer, well, she might have more. Hence the younger sibling that comes about shortly after Anakin leaves.
When Anakin goes back to Tatooine because of the nightmares about his mom he finds out that Watto sold his mom back to Gardulla and has to go to her to buy his mom’s freedom. Which would be traumatic, on multiple levels. Anakin finds out that a month before he arrived, Shmi tried to escape with the sister Anakin didn’t know he had, and Gardulla had their chips detonated. Gardulla even gives him their triggered remotes as proof. (Of course unbeknownst to Anakin, Shmi and the sister survived and are living with a village of other escaped togruta.) A lot of canon still happens the same, including Anakin’s fall, Order 66, Mustafar, etc. But when Bail Organa sees Ahsoka at Padme’s funeral he tells her that he can take her to a mutual friend of theirs. Ahsoka thinks (hopes) it’s Anakin at first, and is devastated when she realizes it’s Obi-Wan (and then hates herself for feeling disappointment because she should be happy that Obi-Wan is still alive, but he’s not Anakin, and this means that Anakin must be dead). There’s no Lars family and the Organas would have a harder time explaining a non-human daughter, so Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up taking care of the twins. They eventually find their way to Tatooine because it’s out of the Empire’s notice and, well, because it’s a connection to Anakin (Ahsoka’s trying to hold onto anything she can that connects her to her brother and Obi-Wan is in his self-harming phase.)
And it’s there that they eventually run into a little community of togruta and a woman who looks suspiciously like Anakin who has the last name Skywalker. But hey, Shmi gets to meet her grandkids at least. Even if it happens at the same time that she finds out that son she thought she’d sent away to a better life and hasn’t seen in 13 years is dead. (Obi-Wan sees how much Anakin’s death destroys Shmi and decides to never, ever tell her what he became. Vader will be his burden and it’s a secret he will take to his grave. Anakin Vader is dead, and he’ll save them from ever finding out how it really happened) Of course, 15 years later Ahsoka goes to rescue some rebels from a walking death omen in black when she realizes the infrasound calls he’s shrieking out of his mangled montrals is devastatingly familiar.
togruta au tag or togrutakin tag Status: Unpublished
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Anachromism:
Anakin ends up twenty three years in the future, Vader ends up twenty three years in the past.
So you’ve got Anakin just fresh off the child murder suddenly flung into the Rebellion era and being faced with how much he supremely fucked up. Meanwhile Vader like not even a week after Bespin suddenly back in the Jedi Temple in the middle of the Purge. And because his vision is shit he doesn’t realize at first that it’s a bunch of clone troopers shooting at the big black angry mass that suddenly appeared. Which leads him to accidentally saving a bunch of baby Jedi, who of course imprint on him like orphaned ducklings. Vader figures he must had died at some point and this is a divine punishment for all the atrocities, trapped in a purgatory of reliving all his greatest mistakes. So in a bit of an uncharacteristic move for him, he doesn’t murder to death the gaggle of preschoolers he’s accidentally collected, and instead, in a series of absurd events sort of unintentionally helps to start the Rebel Alliance in a bit of cosmic irony.
Status: Unpublished
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War Machines (title pending):
Jedi are living weapons. Far into the Outer Rim, the Hutts obtain a planet killer. Dystopian au where the sith empire was never wiped out and controls half the galaxy and the Republic is more of an authoritarian dictatorship that uses teh Jedi as living weapons of mass destruction. Force sensitive children are taken from their families and trained as soldiers, raised with a cloned ‘handler’ who was designed specifically to be able to keep their Jedi in line. The Jedi are eldritch, incredibly powerful beings that are forced to wear suppression gear that keeps them confined to their physical form. Only the handler is able to turn it off the gear and allow the jedi the full use of their abilities. Some force sensitives are wired into ships or turned into actual weapons. On Tatooine, Gardulla realizes one of her slaves is a powerful force sensitive and begins having him trained like a jedi to be her own personal one man army. Status: Unpublished
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the thing that lives in dead stars (title pending):
A gambler Watto may have been, but stupid he was not. Anakin Skywalker was too great a prize to risk losing, not when the man betting had the gleam in his eye that told of a winning hand. Not that it mattered in the end. The boy won, and Watto lost, and the hutts got themselves the only human in the entire galaxy that could win a pod race. At least the outlander didn’t leave with the boy as well as his pretty Noobian ship. Or Anakin wins the race but not his freedom. Six years later, the circuit brings him to Coruscant, and the attention of a Sith Lord. My very fucked up Anakin raised as a Sith AU. Status: Unpublished
Shapeshifters AU:
aka space vampire Vader aka sun dragon Skywalkers. So I think we've established by this point that I can't get enough of Eldritch Skywalkers. They are my JAM. So of course I made another eldritch Skywalkers au. There's a few main points to this one. 1. Anakin, and subsequently Luke and Leia, being freaky part-Force abominations, can shapeshift. However, they cannot shapeshift into anything they like. This isn't FMA Envy/ Mystique/ whatever. They can't just look at a person and copy their face. Instead they have to have a deep emotional connection to what they are transforming into, and that transformation is always accessed by strong emotion. While they could theoretically shapeshift into a person they care very close to, the thought of doing so is very unnerving and almost violating, so they don't. Instead, all three Skywalkers have a habit of changing into creatures from Tatooine mythology. 2. Anakin and Beru are half siblings. I love this idea. I cannot express to you how much I love this idea. It just scratches something in my brain so well. Beru is Anakin's younger sister by about a year, and got left on Tatooine with their mother when Anakin was taken by Qui-Gon. She is not a part-Force abomination, but grew up knowing all about Anakin's weirdness. 3. Luke AND Leia are both given to Beru (and Owen) because of said knowledge about Anakin's weirdness. She is probably the best and safest option for raising two baby shapeshifting half-Force abominations. And thus the twins grow up on the same stories Anakin did, with the added knowledge that he could turn into those creatures, and thus, so do they. 4. At some point Anakin found out he could consume the midi-chlorians of other Force sensitives on account of the whole half-Force abomination thing. And since midi-chlorians exist in a persons blood, well. Space vampire. Sidious has a lot of fun feeding Force sensitive people to his pet monster. 5. Speaking of- Vader is more often than not a fuck off huge black hole of a sun dragon. Like, legitimately. In this, sun dragons are essentially living stars in the shape of massive serpents. Vader is what happens when one of those living suns becomes a black hole. 6. Vader is just all around fucked up honestly. He no longer gets to decide what form he takes. His body and everything about it is determined by Sidious' will. His master decides what he turns into, and Vader was always meant to be a monster on a leash. So of course that's what Sidious keeps him as. 7. The twins somehow get roped into the Rebellion. Don't ask me how, I haven't figured out that part just yet. Status: Unpublished
SHORT FICS & ONE-SHOTS
For a Son:
He could not bring her son back to her. Could not even return his body to lay to rest. The least he could do was bring her the grandchild she never even knew she had. He knew it could never forgive what he had taken. Obi-Wan finds out what happened to Shmi Skywalker. Word Count: 4,018 Status: Published
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Lessons the Desert Gave:
No one ever understood how the sand would sink into open wounds. How, no matter how much you scrubbed and washed and clawed, the sand always found its way into your blood. The desert has a way of sticking with you, even long after you left it. (Turns out growing up a slave can really fuck a guy up.) Ficlet/ one-shot collect of character studies looking at all the ways Anakin's childhood would have really messed him up. I'm open to prompts/ requests for this one. Word Count: 1,820 Status: Published / Ongoing
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Dead Letters:
Post RotS. Obi-Wan gets drunk and messages Anakin on his old comm from the war, forgetting that Anakin is dead. For some reason, he keeps on doing it. What could it hurt? Anakin is dead, his comm destroyed on Mustafar just like his body. So he keeps sending messages, because for just a second, it means he can pretend that Anakin is still alive out there somewhere. Then he discovers he doesn't have to pretend. This one could so easily be a crack-fic. Darth Vader gets drunk texts from Obi-Wan telling him all about how awful Tatooine is and that he'll never make fun of Anakin again for hating sand and he keeps getting sunburnt and also Anakin's son is so sweet and cute and just like him until he turned into a surly teenager, why couldn't he just stay an adorable little boy forever? Status: Unpublished
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Jewel Box:
Sidious’ obsession ran deep. What he wanted, he would have- wholly, utterly, and completely. His want for the boy was no different. Sidious POV of Anakin through the years featuring all the horrible messed up things he thinks and does. Big BIG warning for child abuse, grooming, and rape/non-con in addition to Sidious' all around awfulness. This is probably the most awful thing I've ever written. Like holy shit it's fucked up. It's taking me ages to finish because I keep having to take breaks from it. And I'm not even going into any graphic detail. Title comes from that one line in the RotS novel where Sidious calls Vader's suit a jewel box. Status: Unpublished
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sumiink · 5 months
Text
Sumi's Fic Recs
I've been saving a list of fan fiction I like for years now and thought I should share it!
Fandoms include Danny Phantom, DPxDC, Batman, DCMK, BNHA, and Miraculous Ladybug, Legend of Zelda (Linked Universe), Mob Psycho 100, and Genshin Impact. Links, summaries, and comments under the cut.
Danny Phantom
Phantom of Truth by Haiju
NOTE: An edited/updated version of the sequel (Shadow of a Doubt) is also on AO3, but not finished. The finished, unedited version can be found on FF.net here.
Summary: Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her sole object of study, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth... except, perhaps, herself.
Review: You can’t talk about Danny Phantom fanfic without bringing up Phantom of Truth. This one defines the vivisection genre. It’s written in Maddie’s perspective and you can see her character in every little detail of the writing.
Treading Water by TheFullCatastrophe
Summary: "This is the story of why we had to start calling Danny Fenton, Danny FINton. Get it, Danny? 'Cause you have FINS? Oh, I kill me." - a summary by Tucker Foley.
Review: Mermaid AU! Another classic fandom fic, this one with great worldbuilding and some dark, realistic vibes that make the ghosts (well, mermaids) really feel dangerous.
Modern Day Ghost Girl by MemoryWriter
Summary: Wendy Manson, 14-year old freshman in Casper High. Recently she's been able to sense ghosts, and on the day Wendy's paranormal curiosity gets the best of her, her project partner and ex-best friend Shane happens to follow her. When she meets a mysterious ghost in the abandoned apartment, what of her identity will she be discovering?
Review: One of the first fics I ever read, so it holds a special place in my heart.
Outside Looking In by Ellen_Brand
Summary: Casper High's new psychiatrist has some interesting interviews ahead of him.
Review: A great outside perspective into Danny. Also I just like Cade!
Phantom’s Sketchbook by AkoyaMizuno
Summary: Mr. Lancer finds himself in an unparalleled situation, he has access to something which can give him incredible insight into the personal workings of Amity Park's local ghost teen hero, Danny Phantom.
Review: Another fandom classic! A must read for the student/teacher relationship between Mr. Lancer and Danny.
You Should Be Dead by SapphireDragon11
Summary: Dash and Kwan are horrified to discover they've accidentally killed their classmate, but perhaps even more so when he shows up at school the next day. With his secret on the line, Danny soon discovers Dash and Kwan are the least of his worries.
Review: An epic story of Danny going up against incredible odds! One of my absolute favorites!
DPxDC
But I Want to Be Let In, Not Out by TheWritingOwl
NOTE: Actually a series of one-shots!
Summary: Growing up with the Fentons, Danny resigned himself to the fact that he would never see Damian again. However, when he gets summoned to Gotham after becoming the Ghost King, he finds himself reuniting with his long lost twin.
Review: Some nice demon twins au with batfam elements- all the stuff I like in a DPxDC fic.
close enough to be whole again by hailsatanacab
Summary: “If you ever find yourself in danger, go to Bruce Wayne. He will help you.”     His mother had loved him, in her own way. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have helped him escape. If she hadn’t, she would have dragged him back to the League of Assassins, to Grandfather. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead.     She loved him, but she loved the League more.     Jack and Maddie Fenton loved him too, they did, but they loved their work more.     They loved their work more.     --     After his parents react poorly to his reveal, Danny escapes to the only person he thinks can help him - Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know what to expect when he gets there, but it has to be better than where he is, surely? He certainly doesn't expect to be reunited with his long lost twin brother Damian. It's funny how things work out that way.     Danny is 16 years old, not Phantom Planet compliant
Review: More angsty demon twins AU with secret identity shenanigans, what’s no to love?
Recognized by AgentIanLegend
Summary: When they heard the fateful words "Recognized: Robin - B01," nothing could have prepared them for the web of secrets which would unravel as Daniel Fenton and Richard Grayson search for answers.
Review: An epic story will all kinds of twists and turns. Very will written with great pacing and tight storytelling!
Batman
hand in unloveable hand (a chokehold) by britishparty
Summary: Tim Drake is eleven years old when he’s grabbed off the streets of Bristol while he’s on his way home. It will be okay, he tells himself: they’ll call his parents, and they’ll pay the ransom, and he’ll get to go home.
There are pictures of Batman and Robin on the camera he was carrying. A lot of pictures.
They don’t call his parents. They call Black Mask.
- or: the one where Black Mask kidnaps Tim and tries to groom him into a ruthless heir, and Tim tries to figure out how to destroy him from the inside out.
Review: Tim is great in this. This one is full of scheming and mind games and all that good stuff.
From When He Sprang by WereDog15
Summary: January 2012. For the last four years, Jason Todd has been living on the streets of Gotham, doing whatever he can in order to survive on his own. But one night, as he emerges from his dwelling in Gotham’s underground tunnels, he encounters the legendary dynamic duo of Batman and Robin.A little bit of help can go a long way, but Jason's world is ripped apart as he is unintentionally put in the path of one of the deadliest secret societies that the world has ever known.Discover the story of the event that changed their lives forever, and put Jason on the path to becoming the second Robin.
Review: THIS FIC. It’s creative, it’s dark, it’s gory - this one makes me feel like I’m back in middle school reading The Hunger Games for the first time. This fic does not pull any punches.
Liminal Spaces by Calamityjim
NOTE: A multi-part series with some extra one-shots too
Summary: Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension. Or When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him.
Review: Oh this one is a long, epic story with all kinds of twists and turns. And lots and lots of emotional batfam moments.
A Gentlekid Thief by Blazonix
Summary: Tim didn't mean to become the notorious thief Red X; it just sort of happened. Just like how he somehow wound up being Batman’s greatest nemesis - his therapist. He would like to remind whatever higher forces are out there that he is still only 12.
Review: Funny and clever!
From the Shadows by Wolfsbanesparks
NOTE: Shazam crossover
Summary: All Billy Batson wanted was to survive a particularly rough week living on the streets of Fawcett City. The last thing he was looking for was a new family. All Bruce Wayne wanted was to learn a bit more about his upbeat teammate under the guise of official Wayne Enterprises business. But he could never turn his back on a child in need. Especially one as surrounded by mystery as Billy. OR   Billy gets adopted by the Batfamily while trying to deal with a strong magical enemy.
Review: I’m always a fan of gen fic that also has an overarching story and great villain!
Shutterbye by katiesparks
Summary: The more I research it, the more I know it has to be true. Dick Grayson is Robin. And that means Bruce Wayne is Batman. All the pieces fit. I move my Dick and Bruce Wayne things into the Batman and Robin box and buy an extra lock for it.
Review: One-shot written from a young Tim’s perspective. The writing style really brings his character to life.
Surveillance by smilebackwards
NOTE: A multi part series
Summary: Tim knows antagonizing Lex Luthor wasn’t exactly his safest move but the point is really driven home by the bullet to the shoulder. Or: The AU where Jason never died and Tim is a civilian who contributes to crime fighting by taking surveillance photos and leaving them on the desktop of the Batcomputer.
Review: Gotta love some ‘stalker Tim gets involved in hero stuff without actually wearing a cape’ stuff.
Detective Conan & Magic Kaito
(Don’t) Believe What You Know by discordiansamba
NOTE: This fic is actually a rewrite, buuuuuut I saved the older, longer version if you want to read that one instead. Available here (I just copy and pasted it, so formatting may be a little weird)
Summary: For as long as he's known him, Hattori Heiji has always seemed to gotten mixed up in cases with a sort of... supernatural touch. Honestly, Conan's never thought much of it- it's not as if the things that go bump in the night are actually real, and they've got countless cases behind them to prove just that.But after getting mixed up in a strange case in Osaka and learning a disturbing secret from Heiji's past, its left Conan wondering if there's more his friend isn't telling him. So he does what any good detective would- investigate.He's just... not sure he was ready for the answers.
Review: I am a huge of discordiansamba’s writing! It very descriptive and the stories tend to have a lot of interesting moving parts. This fic in particular is great for its worldbuilding and the magical, dangerous adventures Heiji gets involved in. And Heiji trying to hide stuff from Conan always makes for some good tension.
Blood and Snow by discordiansamba
Summary: Heiji Hattori has never believed in the supernatural. Things like vampires have always been a bunch of nonsense to him. But the supernatural is about to prove itself very real.
Review: If you like the last one, you’ll like this one too – another supernatural adventure focusing on Heiji!
Unprofessional Opinion by Ellen_Brand
Summary: A series of psychologicalpersonality profiles of our boys... with guest shrink Cade Maboroshi!
Review: I just like Cade! And an outsider’s perspective is always fun, especially in this writing style.
The Case of the Magic Bullet Murder by MirrorandImage
NOTE: Technically a sequel, but I didn’t read the first one and wasn’t lost. There’s also a third fic that’s good too!
Summary: As always Conan stumbles across another body; and this time the prime suspect is this high school kid named Kuroba Kaito. Sequel to The Case of the Hidden Epidemic.
Review: We get to see Conan interact with Kaito, and that always makes for fun secret identity shenanigans. And we even get to see Kaito get involved in solving a case!
Insanity, Apparently by Taliya
NOTE: A series of one shots
Summary: Takagi Wataru would like to register a complaint to whichever deity thought it would be hilarious to toss him into odd situations with Kaitou KID. Repeatedly. Because this was far beyond his pay grade.
Review: A fun story with a mix of characters you don’t see very often.
Be a Better Me by Lisa_Telramor
Summary: Kaito thought that the Robot Incident ended with the destruction of his copycat robot. He couldn't have guessed how wrong that assumption was when he is injured months later.
Review: Wonderfully angsty and doesn’t shy away from the horror of Kaito’s new reality.
Guide you home by Tobina
NOTE: Uses Guide & Sentinel tropes, which I’d never heard of before but I guess it used to be popular in fanfic in the 90’s? Basically Sentinels have superpowers and Guides help them control it. The two tend to be lifelong partners, but it can be romantic or familial or platonic.
Summary: As a Level 5s Sentinel and skillful detective, Kudou Shinichi helps the Tokyo Police Department whenever they get stuck with a case, his Guide Ran at his side to ground him when needed. After a KID heist, it becomes clear that Guides are dissapearing and Shinichi and his western counterpart Hattori Heiji are knee-deep into the case, especially because this one hits far too close to home for comfort. When then even phantom thief Kaitou KID gets involved, things are bound to get... interesting.
Review: A GREAT story that does a good job with worldbuilding and characters’ relationships. While it focuses on Conan, my favorite part of this fic is the arc the Kaito goes through and the way this story takes a look at his motivations and moral compass.
It's Raining Men, Hallelujah by Asuka Kureru
Summary: Conan already has some kind of corpse magnet power, but when Heiji is in his orbit the corpses actively come to them. From above. Witness.
Review: A fandom classic! Short and hilarious.
Inconceivable by joisbishmyoga
Summary: In the face of a DNA analysis Kaito can't deny, he begins uncovering the rest of his family's secrets. Too bad he's not the only one looking.
Review: An epic story that has a takedown of the Black Org AND twin AU, what’s not to love?
Secrets in Indigo by Sinnatious
Summary: A throwaway comment about Kaitou KID’s eye colour sets Kaito on an uncomfortable path of discovery.
Review: I can’t give too many spoilers! An overall great story with great writing as Kaito discovers secrets and also tries to keep them hidden.
The Young Royals of Deduction by joisbishmyoga
NOTE: One shot
Summary: The Exclusive Interview with Four Children Taking the Investigative World by Storm
Review: Short but fun!
My Hero Academia
The Thin Gray Line by A_ToastToTheOutcasts
Summary: The beauty of the era of quirks wasn't the amazing abilities; it was that nobody sane would even entertain the thought that Kuroko, the most wanted vigilante in all of Japan, was Quirkless.
Review: A vigilante AU with a badass Deku (or, in this case, Kuroko) who puts the whole Hero Commisison to shame. The rivalry between Deku and Bakugou is so intense in this fic, I love it.
Yesterday Upon the Stair by PitViperOfDoom
Notes: When you’re done with this, there’s also a fun related one-shot by another author called U.A. Unsolved by kabukichou (ameliafromafairytale)
Summary: Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it. But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless. Not that anyone would believe it if he told them.
Review: An epic story full of secrets and ghosts!
Hero Class Civil Warfare by RogueDruid (Icarius51)
Summary: Heroes lead by Bakugo. Villains lead by Midoriya. Seven days prep time. Three days for Izuku Midoriya to show why they should be glad he's not a real villain.
Review: Badass Deku going all out and scaring his classmates. This one uses nearly every character from class 1-A and 1-B and manages to make everyone have an impact on the story!
Tales of the Jade Mantis by Chess_Blackfyre
NOTE: A multi-part series
Summary: The adventures of Inko Midoriya, Number One Vigilante in all of Japan, and her complicated relationship with the Number One Hero, All Might. However, it's not all about kicking butt and taking names, watch as the telekinetic in the leather jacket struggles with things like brutal mentors, working in customer service, and trying to be a good single parent.
Review: The only fic I’ve found with Inko as a vigilante! Quite the journey, this one goes over her career as a vigilante and what comes after when Izuku suddenly has a quirk. I love the weird adventures Inko gets up to and the interesting people she meets. One of my all time favorites!
Monochrome Skies by QuantumPoint
Summary: Midoriya Izuku died four years ago. Midoriya Izuku dead in a housefire when his mother didn’t notice him come home early. Midoriya Izuku dead because heroes failed to hear the screams of a scared child. Midoriya Izuku dead alone and scared.His mother mourned him but went on with her life. The heroes swore to be better, but still made the same mistakes. And for four years, everyone believed he was until Aizawa caught sight of a well-known vigilante and decided to investigate. Everyone believed it until Yagi bumped into a kind child on the street and tried to give him hope.
Review: I can’t say much because spoilers, but if you’re an artist, read this.
brilliant lights will cease to burn (by my hands i’ll reignite them) by novalotypo
NOTE: It’s a Card Captor Sakura crossover, but honestly I’ve never seen that and as far as I can tell this doesn’t have much to so with that show. It’s BNHA characters and world with some Card Captor magic elements.
Summary: Midoriya Izuku is quirkless. This, he knows very well.This is also what he knows:Weekends and vacations are reserved for walking neighborhood dogs. The elderly are the most powerful people on Earth. Local gods are picky eaters. Trust is a feeble, feeble thing. Magic cards are incredibly difficult to seal, especially when the world thinks you're a vigilante. Heroes are not magicians, but magicians can be heroes.Becoming a cardcaptor wasn't on Izuku's bucket list, but he'll be damned if he doesn't make the best out of it.
Review: Deku doesn’t have a quirk, so he gets sucked up into some magical card captor responsibilities and goes all out, as he does. This one has an analytical Deku, otherworldly magic, creepy villains, and some tension between a vigilante Deku and hero society as a whole. One of my absolute favorites!
Quirk: Knife! by brightredwings
Summary: Izuku Midoriya is unlucky, to say the least and life hasn't exactly been kind. Things weren't so bad in the beginning, but once he was diagnosed quirkless, well, it all went to shit. Everyone grew to hate him, even his best friend and own father.Was it really that impossible to become a hero without a quirk? It doesn't really matter because to Izuku, the term hero is flexible. He'll be his own hero because he's learnt from his own experience, people are selfish and the only one he can rely on is himself.Left alone to fend for himself in the world, Izuku goes out to change things on his own terms, despite his methods being slightly illegal. Keyword, slightly. It's only illegal if he gets caught, right?
Review: A long story with great arcs for a lot of League of Villains character, and a beautiful ending. Some pretty intense angst with happy endings for everyone.
Roses are red and they taste like shit by Unbreakable_Red_Riot
Summary: Katsuki was really fucking sick of the smell of flowers.
Review: Ah, yes, KiriBaku with hanhaki disease. Mostly from Bakugou’s point of view, so you get to see all his frustration and a ton of drama. Also looks into some other characters like Midoriya and Todoroki, which is a nice touch.
The Beauty of a Beast by starofgems
Summary: Once upon a time a lonely beast lived in a manor deep in the forest. He dreamed of the day his true love appeared to break his curse... When a beauty finally appears in his life, it is not quite as he imagined. For who could have thought a beauty would be more of a beast. Or The beauty and the beast AU nobody asked for but here it is.
Review: A very sweet love story. (KiriBaku)
The Deaf Hero: Deku by BeyondTheClouds777
Summary: His whole life, Izuku was told that he couldn’t do it. That he should give up while he still had the chance. That someone like him—Deaf, Quirkless—could never become a hero.But Izuku wasn’t going to give up. Not now and not ever. (OR, the one where nearly everything's the same, but Izuku is Deaf.)
Review: Right what it says on the tin. Deku’s added deafness creates more tension between Deku and Bakugou, his classmates, and even other heroes. Things get angsty but Deku always stays determined, which I love.
Miraculous Ladybug
Where Have All The Heroes Gone and Where Are All The Gods? by Anthemyst
NOTE: This is actually part 5 of a series, but I just started with this one and didn’t feel lost. Just know that in this story, Gabirel isn’t Hawkmoth. Most of this was written before Season 1 ended, I think.
Summary: On their fourteenth birthday, the Agreste triplets' world is turned upside down. Their government has been overthrown, their city taken, and superheroes all over Europe have suddenly and mysteriously vanished-including, to their shock, their parents. They'll need to work together, and become the heroes Paris needs, if they're going to save both their parents and their country.
Review: A next-gen fic that got me into ML fanfic in general! It’s got a fun dystopian vibe and the Agreste kids are all fleshed out very nicely. One of my absolute favorites!
Not A Bit by CaptainOzone
Summary: "Sometimes, being a brother is even better than being a superhero," says author Marc Brown. Félix Agreste has been both, and he can't have said it better himself. (AKA The Brothers AU I wanted to read but had to write myself when I realized this AU has a depressing lack of fic to its name)
Review: I’m always a fan of fic that has Marinette and Adrien AND Felix and Bridgette.
Legend of Zelda (Linked Universe)
Looking for Group by Tashilover
Summary: People want to be a Hero so badly, they're willing to bribe, lie, cheat, and beg. Twilight knows there's a Hero amongst the people in this college town. It's just a matter of finding them.
Review: The modern setting keeps things fresh, yet this story is still full of legends, danger, and a fight of good vs evil!
Mob Psycho 100
tomorrow isn’t always another day by suitablyskippy
NOTE: One shot
Summary: It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...” (There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)
Review: THIS WHOLE CONEPT IS HILARIOUS
Genshin Impact
Traveler’s search for Scaramouche by Scuriel
NOTE: A choose your own adventure story!
Summary: Ei wants Traveler to search for Scaramouche and get back her gnosis. They have many decisions to make along the way.
Review: Don’t see something like this very often! There are actually a lot of different outcomes.
40 notes · View notes
olderthannetfic · 5 months
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Idk if this is a trope, or a genre-thing, or a real life thing, but I've been seeing more and more of my internet acquaintance circle say that a character being friends with an ex is a big turn-off to them in media they consume. It's really weird to me because I don't even know it's apparently such a big deal in media to be mentioned, but also, what's bad about staying friends with an ex to begin with? If we split amicably I'd rather stay in good contact, than completely cut someone off. Especially if that person was a good friend to begin with. I don't think I've seen that much media revolving around this at all tbh, and it's weird how they started mentioning it recently. Ok Christmas is the time of love and friendship, but stills feels kinda random. Is it like a side effect of current dating culture, or is that an old thing? I notice it more with internet acquaintances than my IRL friends as well. I don't think the idea of writing about two people staying friends after a break-up turns into a cheap porn plot of them just fucking behind any new girl/boyfriends. If that happens, then that is a cheap porn plot. I just wanna know what the fuck they're media they're looking at.
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Well... to be honest, a lot of people aren't friends before they date someone and do treat romantic prospects and friends differently.
I think a lot of media also does this. Not only does your standard bad tv writing use the ex for drama in most cases, but the writing of the actual friendship part is often unconvincing.
I know a lot of people, usually guys, who met some girl on a dating app or asked her out in a bar because she was pretty who pull the "We should stay friends" thing, and it's laughable. They weren't friends, and the way that woman socializes outside of her boyfriend isn't compatible with how he socializes.
It's much less weird if it's somebody from your friend circle whom you knew for a long time first.
For me personally, in the context of fiction, the biggest problem is that a sufficiently interesting friendship will make me ship those characters and not the current ship that the media is pushing. Or, on rare occasions, I won't even ship them, but I just want to hear about their friendship and not the romance.
IRL, there are lots of reasons people just don't work out, but in fiction, I'm constantly going "Okay, but they could get back together though!" Unlike with real people, there's no reason some subtle shade of their personality couldn't be a little different or they couldn't change their mind about lifestyle things in a way that would make the couple great together this time around.
It would probably annoy me less in extremely realistic dramas about daily life, but I dislike those. Most things I actually consume just either make me think "Why are we wasting time on the current ship?" or "OT3! OT3!"
Part of making good fiction is paring away the less essential stuff to let the main points shine. A too-good friendship does steal airtime from a romance in a lot of cases.
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OTOH, I do know a bunch of neurotic people who just hate it when any ex is within a thousand miles because they've got cheating on the brain.
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bsdndprplplld · 1 year
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tips for studying math
I thought I could share what I learned about studying math so far. it will be very subjective with no scientific sources, pure personal experience, hence one shouldn't expect all of this to work, I merely hope to give some ideas
1. note taking
some time ago I stopped caring about making my notes pretty and it was a great decision – they are supposed to be useful. moreover, I try to write as little as possible. this way my notes contain only crucial information and I might actually use them later because finding things becomes much easier. there is no point in writing down everything, a lot of the time it suffices to know where to find things in the textbook later. also, I noticed that taking notes doesn't actually help me remember, I use it to process information that I'm reading, and if I write down too many details it becomes very chaotic. when I'm trying to process as much as possible in the spot while reading I'm better at structuring the information. so my suggestion would be to stop caring about the aesthetics and try to write down only what is the most important (such as definitions, statements of theorems, useful facts)
2. active learning
do not write down the proof as is, instead write down general steps and then try to fill in the details. it would be perfect to prove everything from scratch, but that's rarely realistic, especially when the exam is in a few days. breaking the proof down into steps and describing the general idea of each step naturally raises questions such as "why is this part important, what is the goal of this calculation, how to describe this reasoning in one sentence, what are we actually doing here". sometimes it's possible to give the proof purely in words, that's also a good idea. it's also much more engaging and creative than passively writing things down. another thing that makes learning more active is trying to come up with examples for the definitions
3. exercises
many textbooks give exercises between definitions and theorem, doing them right away is generally a good idea, that's another way to make studying more active. I also like to take a look at the exercises at the end of the chapter (if that's the case) once in a while to see which ones I could do with what I already learned and try to do them. sometimes it's really hard to solve problems freshly after studying the theory and that's what worked out examples are for, it helps. mamy textbooks offer solutions of exercises, I like to compare the "official" ones with mine. it's obviously better than reading the solution before solving the problem on my own, but when I'm stuck for a long time I check if my idea for the solution at least makes sense. if it's similar to the solution from the book then I know I should just keep going
4. textbooks and other sources
finding the right book is so important. I don't even want to think about all the time I wasted trying to work with a book that just wasn't it. when I need a textbook for something I google "best textbooks for [topic]" and usually there is already a discussion on MSE where people recommend sources and explain why they think that source is a good one, which also gives the idea of how it's written and what to expect. a lot of professors share their lecture/class notes online, which contain user-friendly explenations, examples, exercises chosen by experienced teachers to do in their class, sometimes you can even find exercises with solutions. using the internet is such an important skill
5. studying for exams
do not study the material in a linear order, instead do it by layers. skim everything to get the general idea of which topics need the most work, which can be skipped, then study by priority. other than that it's usually better to know the sketch of every proof than to know a half of them in great detail and the rest not at all. it's similar when it comes to practice problems, do not spend half of your time on easy stuff that could easily be skipped, it's better to practice a bit of everything than to be an expert in half of the topics and unable to solve easy problems from the rest. if the past papers are available they can be a good tool to take a "mock exam" after studying for some time, it gives an opoortunity to see, again, which topics need the most work
6. examples and counterexamples
there are those theorems with statements that take up half of the page because there are just so many assumptions. finding counterexamples for each assumption usually helps with that. when I have a lot of definitions to learn, thinking of examples for them makes everything more specific therefore easier to remember
7. motivation
and by that I mean motivation of concepts. learning something new is much easier if it's motivated with an interesting example, a question, or application. it's easier to learn something when I know that it will be useful later, it's worth it to try to make things more interesting
8. studying for exams vs studying longterm
oftentimes it is the case that the exam itself requires learning some specific types of problems, which do not really matter in the long run. of course, preparing for exams is important, but keep in mind that what really matters is learning things that will be useful in the future especially when they are relevant to the field of choice. just because "this will not be on the test" doesn't always mean it can be skipped
ok I think that's all I have for now. I hope someone will find these helpful and feel free to share yours
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