#sounds like good fanfic fodder though

[madstronaut]

back on my captain rex clone wars bullshit

I happened to come across ONE captain rex fanart on my twt and for a short period of time I am once again salivating on the hour for rex o captain my captain

have you ever read something so good every so often something just reminds you of it from time to time and then WHAM you are back deep in your hyperfixation???? no??? only me???? kk

this fic is basically what got me into the sex pollen of it all but also I cannot explain how perfect it is as a 'love at first sight, but duty restrains me from pursuit' fic (also freaked out completely seeing she has alternate POV shortfics of this story too)

im neck deep in a different fandom rn but I kind of wanna say regardless (though the STW lore touches are just *CHEFS KISS*) this is so well-written i truly believe anyone who loves love stories would enjoy this??? idk give it a go <3

(also yes I know I use *chef's kiss* liberally but I am buying lipgloss in bulk to try and properly convey my love for fanfic *re-applying gloss as we speak to get back into the commentin trenches*) shoutout to rare beauty and milk makeup lip oils, my current faves

Reading: Hierarchy of Needs by @zinzinina

His answering laugh is a crackle of static through the helmet, and you nurse a tiny seed of triumph at the sound.

- getting ur crush to react/laugh at something is like more addictive and powerful than cocaine, scientific fact

Frustrated, he yanks his helmet off, peering inside. You can hear the roar of static even from your position several feet away. “That’s a negative, sir. Comms are jammed.”

- i am also weak for these battle-hardened clone troopers calling their jedi f!commanders “sir”

- i am so feral for both the unintentional close quarters contact and jedi reader being able to sense his thoughts but not really put the pieces together that he has the hots for her

“wot? he’s noticing my face and breath and my scent? hes nervous? oh he looked at my lips? hmmm? what he inadvertently felt up my waist and probably felt my under/sideboob? ugh i must be grossing him out” LMAO

(also dropping in the noticing lips from Rex’s POV drabble here because it is also just CHEFS KISS)

You don’t know enough about physical intimacy to know whether it was normal that you’d spent the next several days recalling the feeling of his hands on your body. That you’d stood alone in your tiny chamber back at the temple, pressing your own, much smaller hands to your waist, eyes shut.

- i have also done this before and the power of physical touch is just MMMMM

you watch as he runs a hand over his buzzed-short white hair, a gesture you’ve noticed he resorts to whenever he’s feeling stressed. 

It sounds almost gruesomely flippant, but you can tell it’s not meant to be said with irony. He means it, and you can’t tell through his proud, carefully dignified clip how that simple fact affects him. You speak before thinking. 

“Is that the way you feel as a soldier, or as a person?”

- once again i am mebbe seeing a pattern to the stories i am drawn to but i feel like picking up on someone’s nonverbal cues are the first signs of love/affection <3 and also once again… SOLDIERS ARE PEOPLE? WHAT A NOVEL IDEA? WITH WHOLE ASS LIVES, THOUGHTS, LOVES, HATES, DESIRES, WANTS, ETC. ETC. ETC.  NOT CANNON FODDER/MEAT FOR THE MEAT GRINDER, NO MATTER THE (BULLSHIT) JUSTIFICATIONS?? I feel clone wars really does explore the sheer brutality and horror of war as much as can for a kids’ show (hah) and considering it’s in a fantasy space opera sci-fi settin but anyway i did not expect to go on a little nonsexy rant here but current events have been way too prominent in my mind and heart lately and fic has been one of my to-go comforts/safe spaces to regroup lately - anyway I DIGRESS BACK TO SIMPING - if you are a captain rex fan you know the absolute bullshit this nothing less than loyal and faithful soldier has been through and once again jedi reader’s compassion and care for him is one of the things that really make this fic so special for me and has kept me coming back to read it over and over <3

You lean forward, bringing the palm of your bare hand up to cup the side of his face. You can feel the sharpness of his cheekbone under your touch, the hollow underneath the angle. He freezes, flushing a beautiful rose underneath his copper, all the way up to his forehead. Before he has time to question what you’re doing, your eyes slip shut. Concentrating hard, you channel as much gentle comfort as you can up through your hands. 

You imagine it as a pale glow, soothing and light. Like... hugging him, through the Force. You hold for him a couple of seconds before you let him go, suddenly self conscious. That was inappropriate, you think, wincing. 

- i know this is a sex pollen fic but…this is one of my favorite moments in the whole story. <3 I aspire to give and be given moments like this with those around me <3

You lean back in the jump seat, watching him work. You think you’ve figured it out. That indefinable something about his face that sets him so staunchly apart from his brothers. It’s the eyes. They’re the saddest, kindest ones you think you’ve ever seen.

- 🥹🥹🥹🥹

“Another addition to your list of things I’ve done to disappoint you: leaving that pretty face unprotected.” Oh, Stars. What possessed you to say that? With your back to him, you’re glad he can’t see you cringe.

He doesn’t follow you immediately, and you get the impression he’s sifting though several different things he wants to say before coming up with this: “If we did have anything to filter out the air here, you’d be the one wearin’ it, General.”

-😏😏😏😏i am very into this awkward flirting

You have no idea why you’re telling him this. You sound like an idiot. It must be the lack of blood in your head. You swallow, eyes darting helplessly back to the lines of his broad back and the way it narrows down to his waist, the contrast exaggerated by his armour.

- also jedi reader listen slutty little waists will distract everyone, okay, you are not immune

His responses until now have been amused, but there’s a definite edge of dignified loftiness in his tone as he sniffs. “ I’ve never witnessed anythin’ to indicate General Skywalker’s conduct is ever less than appropriate with the senator.”

-me, reading this: OMG S H U T UP REX  😂 😂 😂

Tentative, you open your mind to him fractionally. And you’re surprised to find he’s… concentrating on remembering military codes. Hard. It’s not the first time he’s exerted this much effort to conceal his thoughts from you, but this is a new level of extreme.

- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA also the implications of jedi being able to ‘sense’ other troopers (and other jedis? ppl in general??) jerking off is just…HMMM

- shoutout to melty acid sap tree for contributions to the rip ur clothes off immediately fund, pouring one out for you 

And it’s then, blinking the beads of water from your eyes, that you sense the ripple - both through the Force and across the top of the water. Distilled, razor sharp desire.

- <33333 also this made me think of those ocean snakes that ppl sometimes randomly find in the middle of the ocean

- when rex gave his pauldron to reader i suspected she projected too hard and maybe he saw what she was picturing here 😏

- my left brain was delighted the jedi refused to rescue reader&rex and strand them on Planet Horny; my right brain/sense of conscience was FUCKING INFURIATED at the jedi stranding the two there and in this essay about geopolitics and wartime triage and the inherent nihilism and existential crises experienced during war i will-

“Remember your training. There may yet be an unseen path forward in which you find a way to survive. May the Force be with you.”

- i would take this as a blank cheque to get dicked down due to extenuating circumstances tbh, go ahead jedireader, u can do it 👊👊👊

- ah yes MEDICAL ASSISTANCE/UNORTHODOX METHODS is what the clones are calling it these days eh

It makes your next words thoughtless, and unguarded. “This is my fault, s-somehow, a test, maybe… the Force… it’s punishment for the way I’ve… thought a-about you. For not heeding the Code.”

- something about the way the reader is so apologetic of her candidness just bursting forth (but it’s literally the best parts of her/what she says???? like her force healing comfort touch before???) makes her so endearing to me - and also the most perfect way to basically confess a coworker crush in his settting lmao

- once again, facts being stated here that the sluttiest/most forbidden thing you can do is *gags* want to HOLD HANDS *resumes gagging* <333

“Didn’t want you stuck out here with someone who couldn’t take care of you properly. Not the way I could.” 

- DOUBLE ENTENDRE ALERT DOUBLE ENTENDRE ALERT

- i know they have wild flora-assisted monkey sex later on but i really think the most intimate moment in this fic is when rex actively allows his thoughts to be read by jedireader and she senses not just how horny he is for her but the roots of his crush starting and the evolving past basic lust and attraction to devotion and that four-lettered L word and honestly to me this is one of the most powerful moments in the fic

 “I’m not asking you for anything. But I, ah, just needed you to know. It wouldn’t… bother me.” 

- OMg YOU SELF-SACRIFICING UNSELFISH NOBLE FREAK JUST LET LOOSE FOR ONCE AND LET HER KNOW YOU ARE DOWN BAD FOR HER YOU CAN EVEN BLAME THE GODDAMN PLANTS

He removes his gloves one by one, standing up to lean over you in the cramped space. He looks stern despite the state of distress you can feel rolling off his tortured body. “Like I said, then. Leggings off.”

- i am not into petplay but omg the things i would do/not do for this man if he said literally anything to me that sounded liek a command

 You know enough about sex to know that this is… procedure, preperatory,

- gurl u literally did it once for 3 min and you think- smh e d u c a t e yourself

- at this point i need to contain myself from literally just copypasting every single dialogue and description because im just spamming at this point but rex disappointed that he’s not being the usual going down king that he is due to debilitating medical circumstances is both the funniest and most in-world headcanon shit ive ever read

This seems to be unique; just something between him and you. You can feel every part of him. Not just his cock, splitting you open. But every thought, every feeling. 

- wholesome smut is my bread butter and my jam forever and ever amen

- i absolutely love all the classic rex quips in this whole fic - “lucky im no jedi” slayed me

- also chaste first-time kiss while being balls deep is how i’d like to imagine my ideal death, not taking any questions tyvm

- also how convenient would it be if you could just telepathically be like ok now lets switch positions or i wanna try this or etc etc (assuming you’d be coherent enough while getting dicked down though is another thing entirely)

- deeply (no pun intended) enjoyed the use of pinion here re: rex’s cock pinioning reader to floor while changing positions (also what is sexier than pausing in the middle of reading smut to look up a word? ty fanfic i learn something new all the time with you <3)

Perhaps he says them for his own benefit; to hear it spoken aloud as he ruins and reforms you again and again.

And, you think, addled with longing and sadness and joy all in one, fuck it. Here, removed from the context of the rest of the galaxy, you’re just people. Not clones, or soldiers, or Jedi. Just humans, naked and weak and needing.

- when the sex is so good you experience post-nut clarity during sex and not after *chef’s kiss*

- also rex being jealous of reader’s own hands on their boobs is something i would tack in my brain walls like a college diploma

- i enjoyed the happy ending here hoping rex & reader had so much sex they literally invented new positions, i would have died happy but also a CH2???? I remember screaming at like dogwhistle decibel pitch when i learned about a ch2 being written

- i like to think kix as a war medic has Seen Some Shit™️ and then some and a part of me wonders how much he suspects sometimes lol

He’d been so firm but gentle, his hands commanding and familiar with you yet reverent; searching for answers in your skin. But it wasn’t just the way he touched you. Even though you know nobody else will ever touch you the same way again; have been painfully reminded as much in every waking moment. You imagine it completely, holding the image of his face close as your muscles begin to seize. Those soft, deep eyes, creasing with concerned affection all the way to the tops of his cheekbones. His full, slightly dry lips parting against yours, remembering the way he’d breathed deeply through his nose as he kissed you, cupping the back of your head in his hand like he could take you into himself with every one of his senses.

It had been the way he looked at you. Like he could see clear down to every single hidden part; the shallowest, ugliest, unworthiest parts — and he had wanted you just the same.

- 🥹🥹🥹🥹 again, this is some of the most beautiful writing ive ever read <3 

It’s just… him. His warmth, and pride, and gruffness, and that endless, limitless compassion. The way he’d sought out the junior-most members of the squad deployed early in your mission and clapped their shoulders, committing their self-chosen names to memory. The way he seemed so much taller than his brothers despite standing at identical heights; something in the lift of his chin.

- this is so true! compassion and character is the hottest thing periodt and turns me on/gets me falling in love like nothing else - i wish it could be outwardly visible as readily as looks and facial features and clothing and sense of style are but ANYWAY I DIGRESS-

- beholding pissed off shirtless rex in grey sweatpants who just shaved his head is a religious experience, do not @ me

- i feel the reader on a spiritual level when she got fucking pissed at rex’s thumb bruise <3

- im both torn by rex’s slavish devotion to duty but also truly i feel the fic captures his character so well because HE TOTALLY WOULD BE saying shit like “but ur vows-“ it is so intensely tragic that it makes him so lovable to me (anyway its like 3am im rambling so probably gonna get more and moer unhinged)

- if rex called me “love” while bemoaning how masturbation while fantasising about you is just not the same as being with you i think i would proudly declare i have won at life

- also his “He doesn’t immediately understand, seeming to think hard as he tries to figure out exactly which thought you’d plucked from his head.” makes me think captain encyclopedic-knowledge-of-military-codes-&-procedure probably has an encyclopedia of fantasies involving reader lmao

That same chivalry that informed every single time he touched you was telling him now that he’d rather kneel for you. But as much as he’s a gentleman in every single sense of the word, he can’t deny this: he does want it.  

-💙💙💙💙💙💙

- also feral for rex being considerate enough to say “dont hurt yourself” while getting his soul sucked out via his dick

- is there something as beautiful as watching someone come apart to the point they start reverting to their native language? anyway all that mando’a i learned via stw fanfic is all rushing back to me now

- once again peak yearning when they cuddle naked 💙

And so you listen to it. The energy surrounding this moment, gathering between your bodies… it’s something you’ve recognised countless times during deep meditation; surrounded by unquestionable goodness. Light. Pure and undeniable and beautiful.

- i am obsessed with this whole scene and dynamic and build-up; personally speaking as someone who is navigating and has decided to settle down for now in the weird demilitarized zone of the venn diagram between where sacred and profane supposedly “never” intersect and find a desire to both explore sexuality and faith in my own unique path (shoutout to all my fellow readers navigating religious trauma and looking to thrive not just survive, there’s way too fucking many of us tbh) i feel very very seen in reader navigating her jedi commitments and values with finding love with prisonertoempireslaveclone trooper captain rex

Fresh desire drips hot into your stomach, but it’s nothing like before. It isn’t urgent, or shameful. There’s none of the pained fear, so uncontrollable as you’d fled from your own thoughts, run into increasingly tighter circles. No, this feels as simple as a tide drawn by a celestial body overhead. Gentle and inescapable, eternal and safe. 

- again peak writing here, thinking of an IRL time i walked out onto a beach in the middle of the night with a lover and i could see miles and miles of empty shore and stars in the sky and i felt the strongest feeling of freedom and safety i ever felt next to him - same vibes here  💙💙💙💙

- something i love about this story is you never hear rex and reader say i love you to each other, but they basically yell it at the top of their lungs with their bodies/actions and overhear it in each other’s thoughts which is just UNNFFFFFF

- the mood whiplash of fucking ANAKIN learning about them and getting to gloat about them sneaking off was a cherry on top perfect ending to this story UGH

i will be returning to my long-ass list of COD fanfics to comment on after this but it is now 3:14am and this took me by the throat (in both the sexy and unsexy way) and I was not allowed to rest until I finished writing this out so HAPPY VALENTINES YALL

#madstrothought #FaFiCoWriMo #fanfiction #star wars #clone wars #captain rex #Hierarchy of Needs #zinzinina #sex pollen #comfort fics #CT-7567

[brigwife]

Children of the Red King, Midnight for Charlie Bone: Part Four

Continuation of my re-read!

(Just as a note, some of my commentary may come across as a bit derisive, but it is all meant to be in good humour. No slight towards the author is intented. I understand the book is for children, so adult characters won't always behave in ways you'd expect them to in real life. It's just... quite funny to read. :') )

Find it kind of weird that even Amy calls her own mother by her first name, but... oh well. Different strokes for different folks, I guess?

I'm sorry Dr Tolly, but this is fucked up. I don't care what the creepy people offer you, you don't trade your children. Not for money, not for power, not for knowledge. Poor little Emma ;A;

I am struggling to understand how he could have been so naïve, especially considering that he was supposed to be a doctor/inventor. But then, he does later say that he and Dr Bloor were friends growing up, so perhaps he was blinded to his creepy evil ways? I dunno, but the more I think about it, the more intruigued I am about their relationship, and the character of Dr Tolly himself. There's some real fanfic fodder here. I'm already picturing a beautiful, devestating Obi-wan and Anakin-style betrayal arc... and yep, I'm shipping it.

I love how painfully obvious it is even in the first book that the mysterious piano teacher being kept in the school by the people known for hypnotising people, is in fact Charlie's organ/piano playing father, who mysteriously disappeared. But okay, Charlie is ten. So we'll let him off making the connection lol.

The disastrous first date!! Oh my sweet, dumb Paton, surely you must have known something like this would happen. You really should have been honest up-front about your endowment. Bless Charlie's little heart though, telling him to get his shit together xD

STRANGER DANGER. Billy pls ;_;. I can't be too mad at you because you're a lonely traumatised 8 year-old orphan, but if a creepy fuckin 100 year old dude offers you hot chocolate and a chat, YOU RUN.

"Hey if you spy for us, we'll get you some nice parents!" There really are no limits these Bloors won't sink to to get what they want. So horrible and villianous, damn it. I actually can't remember if Ezekiel also has some powers of hypnotism/persuasion - though if he does they're clearly not as strong as Manfred's. Either way, poor Billy. It's hard to blame him here.

THIS. ASDSGFAGFDG. Possibly my favourite part of the book so far, because it's just sooo.. I'm sobbing. Who writes their 10 year-old kid a letter like this? Moreover, if Benjamin's parents are private detectives, why the heck don't they have suitable security for their child??? Don't tell me they wouldn't be able to afford that shit. Why are so many of the parents in this story such shitty human beings h e l p

Also, we know that the "nice lady from social services" is gonna be one of Charlie's dodgy great aunts, so I have to ask why these presumably extremely intelligent detectives didn't even bother to do a proper background check. Welp.

I wanna know more about this missing window cleaner tho. It sounds intruiging.

Awww Charlie trying to be a wingman. He's so sweet ;A;

The Gunns are literally just the Weasleys on musical steroids - right down to the bright hair, freckles, and apparent ignorance of the existence of birth control

I completely forgot the Fidelio's dad is bascially Tom fucking Bombadil. Damn.

#midnight for charlie bone #cotrk re-read #children of the red king #benjamin brown #fidelio gunn #amy bone #dr tolly #paton yewbeam #julia ingledew #billy raven #charlie bone #ezekiel bloor

[abysslll]

hello hi luce can u please tell me all about the bsd main characters

HELLO JERI WHY OF COURSE I CAN

1- atsushi nakajima! actual mc but everyone forgets about that part 💀 his gift is beast beneath the moonlight and hes a lil tiger boy. a weretiger if you will. he has the worst haircut of all time and about all he's good for in the first season is moping about how he got kicked out of his abusive orphanage. (which is valid but he literally cannot go for more than five minutes without talking about it its soo </3) fun fact before i watched the show i'd seen a few pictures of him around and i legitimately thought that he was a side character who got introduced in like season 2 and then immediately died as cannon fodder. thats how pathetic he is as a mc.

no but fr i do really love him, his character growth is great and the current arc is really showcasing him as a character. he just happens to have Sad Boy Syndrome 😔 like im actually trying to come up with Plot and Important Stuff to say about all these guys but i have nothing to say about atushi hes just so overshadowed

2- dazai osamu, the Actual mc. hes so fucked up i love him so much. his main character trait is that he wants to kill himself. he is introduced by a failed drowning attempt and goes on about different ways to die for at least two minutes an episode. he used to work in the mafia and was only recruited because of (youre never gonna guess this) a failed suicide attempt in which the eventual boss, who was working as a doctor at the time, met him. its never explicitly said, but he was abused for years as the boss's subordinate (the boss, whose name i will not say for spoiler reasons and also because i cant remember it rn, is canonically a pedophile and sadist. i dont think i need to spell it out). he eventually left because one of his dead friends was like "go make people's lives better dipshit" and he was like "shit ok" and went and joined the detective agency. hes truly a disaster of a human being i can't express enough how skrucnkly he is.

3- chuuya nakahara. hes not a main character but he is in my heart <3 angry short guy i love him so fucking much. anyway hes dazai's ex husband (/j) and they fucking hate each other and have so much intertwined hurt and trauma together its insane. their ship name, soukoku, is actually a name that is canonically used for their special ops team (it translates to double black iirc?) and just aaaaaaaa soukoku <3333 my actual beloveds my first published fanfic EVER was about them

4- ok im running out of influential characters. uhhhhh how about akutagawa. hes dazai's understudy from the mafia and is so horribly fucked up by this that all he wants in life is for dazai to acknowledge his existence (dazai refuses. this is actually a very fucked up plot point). hes a mass murderer and is terminally ill and i would die for him. also he and atsushi are a very popular ship! in their first meeting aku cuts off atsu's leg <33 talk about a meet-cute

5- kunikida is a very major character i just realized 😭 ummmm so hes this guy. and he has a notebook. and he likes to yell at dazai.

no but actually hes a very interesting character with a very solid set of morals that is challenged throughout the course of the show. he's really the only character that like. Follows The Law and Doesn't Want To Hurt People and this is challenged a lot because as you can imagine being partners (as in coworkers. they are not dating) with an ex-mafioso is not a great way to stay morally correct. hes really great actually. he was a math teacher and then became a detective for some reason. hes 22. he was also my favorite character during my first watchthrough though he was quickly replaced by chuuya and akutagawa <3

6- RANPO!!!!! RANPO RANPO RANPO!

think sherlock holmes with the mindset of a child and the confidence of reigen arataka. and also an obsession with candy. that's ranpo. now that i think about it that also kinda sounds like L but we're not talking about death note here. hes basically so smart that he can deduce the truth of a case within like a second, but he has to be wearing glasses. he thinks that he has a gifted ability but he actually doesn't lmao.

he starts off as a side character but becomes a lot more important in like s3 onwards. im not a Super huge fan of his but he is fun! he has a lot of angsty moments throughout as he realizes he's like. Not God. Not Special. which are sad but also ghnghh emotional whump <3 anyway

uhhhhhh i cant think of any more characters rn who are important enough to mention and also youve been waiting liek a day for this response so im gonna cut it here. ty for the ask <33

#bat <3 #endless asks #bsd tag

[lorei-writes]

Hello lovely Lorei!

For the emoji asks... 🤡 and 🌞 and 🤗 please!

Hello!

Ahhh, I swear, you really are one of the sweetest people around, haha. Thanks for dropping by!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Not necessarily laugh, but maybe smile a little bit?

“How can you even find anything in here? Where do you keep your needles, I need to…” “Up your ass, my lord,” you blurted out, bloodlust emanating from your body. “Right next to the thimble.”

Warlords & MC that finally snaps

Chair legs scratched against the floor with a high screech, Ieyasu standing up abruptly, anger sizzling inside of him as he grabbed Masamune by the tail. He held the dragon up in front of his face, green eyes squinting before he poked the creature. He shook Masamune from side to side, much to his friend’s disapproval, squawks of protest taking over the air. “Ieyasu! That’s excessive!” Mai opposed. As if coming back to his senses, Ieyasu opened his hand, letting the reptile fall into her lap. With a sigh, he sat back in his chair, the piece of furniture grunting heavily as he did so. “I guess you can always fuck a lizard,” he grumbled.

The Dragon of Yss, Chapter XI: Vibrant Smoke

The thing of the past is that, in plenty aspects, it is nothing like the present, and as such it should not be measured against the same principles. A decent man, an indecent man – if you allow several centuries to pass, then he is first and foremost a dead man… Unless, for some reason, he is standing in your bathroom, safe, sound, and very, very breathing. Not that you’re complaining, of course! It is infinitely better for your spouse to be alive, even at the price of higher utility bills. (At least most would agree with that, supposedly).

Spots & Stripes

I better stop before the list gets too long, so let me leave it off with a mystery quote:

"Yes, of course, my lord. And asshole. A bastard. Son of a bitch! Who does such things!”

>:)

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Yes. Between 8pm and 4am... Which is nooot very good...

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

I was honestly pondering over it for a while. After all, there's lots of advice that could be given, but plenty of it is not that useful or downright harmful... The best I could come up with at the moment is:

1.Just write, whether it's "good" or "bad". 1.a If you have a beta-reader and they tear you down each time, do not work with them.

Arguably, point 1. is fairly useless, but allow me to elaborate. They're both fairly tightly woven, and by themselves, I'm not sure whether they mean much.

You see, as it happens, I have beta-ed for multiple people by now, and plenty of them were beginners. Some of them have never written any fiction before, and I was the one to encourage them to try. As such, they were fairly vulnerable at the moment, and I thought it is a fairly natural assumption to make that you should be very gentle with such people. However, it apepars I was wrong...

Beta's work is to point out errors and things that could be improved upon, with the ultimate goal of making the project the best it could be at the moment. In my opinion it is worthwile to keep the writer writing too, though. I know of writers who beta-ed of others and were nearly sadistic in how they delivered their critique. It ultimately only discouraged the begginer. Listen, they may have more experience, but if they're in a mentor-like position in relation to you, they should use it to guide you. Beginners are not a fodder for displays of your own ability.

Another thing about working with a beta is that the erorrs they may be pointing out could be just perceived errors. Each writer has their own voice. It consists of habits, preferred phrasings, etc. and well, those take time to build up. You will need to make mistakes along the way to know what suits you... And you cannot do that if somebody consistently tears you down and tells you to be mini-them.

Now, I'm not saying that suggested changes of such nature would not be an improvement to the work itself. However, I'm of the mindset that it's better to let others develop at their own pace, even if it may make my work as a beta a bit lousy. (I suppose it may be a bit more of a teacher approach, rather than a beta-reader one -- although, when working with somebody much less experienced than you, those are fairly connected, aren't they?)

Honestly, even if it may take longer, and even if it may be a convoluted journey, you can improve without a beta-reader or mentor figure of any kind. Just keep on writing, you will get there eventually -- but you will never make it if you get discouraged and stop, even if your few first works were "perfect".

To add some more things, briefly this time:

You can set boundaries wtih your beta-reader.

You can ignore advice, even if it comes from more experienced people.

Treat imperfections more so like fingerprints rather than something to be absolutely disposed of as fast as possible. Dealing with them at your own pace may help you develop your own voice.

You probably want to abide by more codified rules, though (e.g. dialogue notation). They generally just make it easier to read your work.

Writing FanFic is a hobby. Not a job. Don't turn it into a chore.

Aaand of course, I went on a rant.

Fanfic Writer Emoji Asks

#answered #scorchieart #lorei spoke #ask game

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

idk how many people would even want to see this BUT i wanna yell about Leela and Brax so here's a list of all their scenes togethr/scenes pertainng to them that i can recall (pLEASE add on if i missed anything/ you have any additional thoughts!! i could talk about these two all day!)

right off the bat in Weapon of Choice when Leela is on the outskirts of the Citadel and Brax goes to bring her back (which is interesting in and of itself, bc usually i would imagine a chancellery guard would go do that so what made Brax decide to instead??), Leela kinda goes off at him bc she's hurting and instead of trying to actually explain what's going on Brax doesn't even try to argue he just says "we need you" which is great bc Leela has that instinctive desire to be needed and to help people and he's speaking right to that -- also as far as we know, this is Leela and Brax's first actual meeting in canon? it's implied that they know of each other, which makes sense, but it doesn't seem like they've ever directly interacted before: Brax seems almost slightly uncertain, and Leela is combative, but when he's gentle with her she's actually quite receptive

the literal next scene after that, where the OT4 is all in one room for the first time (they still kinda hate each other at this point but still !!!). Narvin explaining Gryben and being a real jerk about it and Leela (understandibly!) questions if Gryben is a prison world, and Brax (who to this point has been mostly quiet as Narvin and Romana brief Leela) jumps in to both clarify Narvin's previous xenophobic statements while also maintaining the inherent questionable/negative connotations

(btw it's actually pretty important to note that Romana self-edits herself a lot when talking to Leela, especially in the earlier seasons; you can actually hear her revising the things she says to put it in terms that she thinks Leela will better understand. and i mean she does it out of genuine consideration for her friend associate but it often comes across as varying levels of patronizing. Narvin also obviously "dumbs things down" when dealing with Leela early on, but like... Brax never does that on any level. the only difference i can tell in how he addresses Leela vs how he talks to anybody else is that he seems much more kind with her than almost anyone else???)

their conversation about the Matrix in The Inquiry: this is REALLY important (and if you've ever talked to me on ao3 i've probably gone off to you about it lol) because it's layered. they're talking about the Matrix but they're also not because in answering Leela's question Brax is making a very thinly veiled allegory (which he outright states a minute later) to Time Lord society/politicians/most importantly HIMSELF -- he's actually strangely open about his morals/beliefs in this scene and i'm living for it tbh -- and i find it very interesting that even though he does directly explain what he means ("how do you know all this?" / "because i am a politician.") he also leaves it for Leela to work out the implications. like it's a very nuanced conversation bc there's double meaning in it and most people on Gallifrey seem to think that Leela is tone-deaf and can't pick up on that stuff (even Romana sometimes oversimplifies things to her) but Brax totally just lets her take from it what she will bc he believes her intelligent enough to understand. he doesn't think her any lesser because she's human.

ALSO on a secondary note to the above: the fact that Leela has a question/needed clarification (sorry, haven't listened to this in a while i forget how it actually happened) and actively sought out Brax to talk to about it?? like she knows Romana better she could have gone to her but i feel like Leela kinda imprinted on Brax and someone she can go to for help if she needs it; maybe it's partly bc she knows he's under marginally less pressure than Romana is but also the truth of the matter is that Brax was the most genuinely helpful person to her in the previous stories and that probably means a lot to her (esp. bc he acts like the essence of everything she hates about Gallifrey but he doesn't treat her the way she would expect from that). btw this topic is gonna come up again in a hot minute

that part where Brax gives her that information that might help her re: the Andred thing, even though he really probably shouldn't have done that -- it kinda makes me think about what he must have been like with Theta tbh???

actually this is mostly my own conjecture but there's some neat stuff in Spirit bc during the *waves hand vaguely* bodyswap dream sequence thing, Romana is very "!!!! Brax can help us !!!" which is tecnically Leela brain talking, so like there's the implications of the stuff i've said above about Leela having this idea of Brax where she knows he's someone she can go to for help

can u tell i'm soft for them

Leela sounding really sad/distracted when she talks about how Brax isn't there YES i'm grasping at straws but a lot of this relationship really is conveyed through the voice acting bc of how little direct focus there is on the characters. there's actually several scenes in Mindbomb where she mentions him and she outright says that she misses him during her discussion with Matthias

that implied scene with them in Mindbomb!! i have a Lot of thoughts about that!!! it's all conjecture and fanfic fodder!!! but the reason i mention this is because it seems pretty meta that out of the whole Gally Gang, it's Leela who first sees Brax when he comes back to Gallifrey and in turn she's the first person (besides Matthias, i guess) that he sees upon his return?? idk i just feel like that's somehow a meaningful detail??? also her reaction of utter shock after spending the entire episode missing him and how worked up she is when she tries to tell Romana, like I desperately need to know what happened in this missing scene MR RICHARDS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Leela insisting on going with Brax when Pandora starts hurting him and their whole conversation there is just. so good. like they're both just so soft and then when Darkel comes in Leela instantly goes into protective mode. like they just have such an open relationship bc Brax doesn't even try to be all pretentious with her, like he doesn't even try to keep up any facades when he's with her he's just very genuine and it really says a lot about both of them -- Leela is so good at seeing people, like getting down to the core of who people are and what makes them them (which is why she's good for Romana, btw, bc Romana has a lot of identity issues) and Brax is so tangled up in who he presents himself as that he barely knows who he actually is anymore but Leela can see that and she makes it so he can truly be himself and he doesn't have to hide. also she's so gentle with him when they talk about Pandora, she's very caring and empathetic and wants to make sure he's okay and i am WEAK

it's been a hot while since i listened to Panacea but I think i remember Brax being really soft with Leela when he first brings the gang to the Axis, like just sounding really glad to see her

ok other than the fact that Brax is lowkey relatable in Reborn (daydreaming fanfic about yourself/people you know? simping for Mary Tamm Romana? yeah mood, my man) there's that scene where they're first appraoching the Citadel on the alt!Gallifrey and it seems like none of them, and Brax specifically, have seen it from the outside in a good long while bc he's very in awe and he tells Leela that he wishes she could see it and he sounds sO hEcKiNg sOFT oh my word-

and once again with Leela thinking of Brax as someone she trusts for help: in Dissassembled when everything is going to crap she straight-up says that she wants to go find Brax bc he'll know what to do/be able to help

at the beginning of Annihilation when Romana is depressed and questioning if Brax truly was her friend and Leela INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION assures her that he was; i lost where i had her exact lines written down but she actually kinda goes off to make sure Romana gets the point

literally forcing myself to talk about this bc it makes my brain stall out but like,,, the Brax Hound in Annihilation,,, Leela being like "goodbye, Braxiatel... again" she sounds so sad and like UGH i always kinda forget how sad it actually is for them to lose Brax in Dissassembled bc like, it was so sudden and they didn't get to say goodbye and Leela is always losing people and i have many many feels about this scene and how all that emotion is made very clear in how they each respond to the Hound (might make a separate post abt this later if anyone is interested ::eyes::)

Enemy Lines is utter bullcrap about these two and I will never stop being salty about how they not only sidelined the very good, very subtle friendship they had in s1-4, but they??? made Leela acutally not trust Brax??? when literally this entire time she's been the one person who probably genuinely trusts him the most?? what the heck, David

I haven't heard TW3 or 4 yet but i'm assuming there's nothing worthwhile in those with regards to this duo (correct me if i'm wrong tho lol, i would love to be mistaken in this assumption)

TL;DR Leela and Brax mututally imprinted on each other and have probably the most open and healthy relationship within the OT4 and it is an absolute CRIME that nobody besides Gary Russell and Justin Richards cared enough to actually build on it in canon

#Lu rambles #long post #meta #Gallifrey audios #big finish audios #leela of the sevateem #chara tag: then reason is a liar #irving braxiatel #(still don't have a chara tag :(( ) #weapon of choice #the inquiry #spirit #mindbomb #panacea #reborn #dissassembled #annihilation #i relistened to Mindbomb again to factcheck myself #i forgot how much good brax-leela stuff there is in it #the last time i heard it was pre-this duo taking over my braincells #relationship: remember your heart

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 9

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1637

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Pregnancy, talk of miscarriage, medical procedures

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 9

If you thought that Natasha and Clint were around a lot before you were pregnant, it was nothing compared to after you got that positive test.  The only time at least one of them wasn't there with you was when you were sleeping or at work, and even then, they were often there.

They were being hyper-protective and nagging you a lot about taking your vitamins and not overexerting yourself.  They pushed for a conversation with Steve about changing your work and pulling you off active missions, which, given that your skillset was ‘can’t get killed so use as cannon fodder’, it meant there wasn't a hell of a lot you could do as part of the team.

All of this would have been incredibly annoying except for the fact you really liked having them around.  Even if they were being a little too overprotective.

It was definitely a problem.

On the day of your five-week ultrasound, they were both a couple of bundles of nerves.  Natasha was mostly silent.  Sometimes you could see her worrying at the inside of her cheek and you knew that she was expecting to go in and find that the pregnancy hadn't taken properly after all or worse, that there would be no heartbeat and it would confirm the fact that she'd never get to be a parent.

Clint seemed to be hung up on something quite the opposite.

He paced the ultrasound room as you sat on the chair in your hospital gown waiting for Cynthia the on-site ultrasound technician to come in.  You knew her well, as you did most of the medical team at the compound considering how many tests they'd run on you, not to mention how they'd get you in to donate blood regularly or see if you could help with any injuries they had.

Natasha was sitting on a stool beside your chair and the more Clint paced the tighter the grip got on your hand.

“Oh god,” Clint babbled as he walked.  “What if there's more than one?  How can I be a dad to three kids?  I can barely even look after myself.  I can't take care of three infants too.”

“Clint,” you said, as you watched him turn and pace back again.  “How about you wait and see how many babies there are and then freak out?”

“Right,” he said, and let out a breath.  “Right.  Sorry.”

He took a seat and put his arm around Natasha just after Cynthia came in.  “Hi!”  The bubbly tech said as she came in the door.  “This is exciting, isn't it?  I hardly get any pregnancy stuff here?  It's always x-rays for broken bones.”

She sat down on the stool and began turning various things on and typing into a computer.  “You must be so excited, huh?  Going with surrogacy, this baby is gonna be so loved and wanted.  I bet the others are excited about being aunts and uncles too.”

“Yeah, we’d kinda given up,” Clint said.  He was rubbing Natasha's back in soothing circles as she seemed to almost start turning green.

Cynthia took the controls for the chair you were on and reclined it so you were lying flat on your back with your knees up.  She took the imaging wand from the holster and prepped it.

“It's going to be hard to see them so don't freak out that it might take a little while to find it.  It's just the size of an orange seed,” she said.

“Oh my god,” Clint said.  “So small?”

“Yeah,” Cynthia laughed.  “So be patient. It's like finding an orange seed in a full-grown adult.”  She scooted the chair closer and brought the wand up.  “There will be a pinch,” she warned and pushed the probe inside you.

It pinched as it entered and there was as uncomfortable pressure inside you as she moved the wand around, trying to find the embryo.  Natasha’s hand squeezed harder and harder on yours the longer it took.  And the longer it took to find them the more uncomfortable it got and the harder you squeezed her hand back.

A little black spot appeared in the sea of static gray and inside it was a little circle blob.  “There it is,” Cynthia said.  “One perfectly normal five-week embryo.”

“Where?” Clint asked, narrowing his eyes and peering at the screen.

Cynthia circled the spot on the screen.  “This thing here,” she said.

“That?” Clint said in disbelief.  “How could you even tell?”

“Training mostly,” Cynthia joked. “But I promise, that seed is the very start of a baby.”

“Just one?” Clint asked.

“Let me just do another check,” she said, moving the wand around again. When she seemed happy she focused on the original spot again.  “Just one.”

“And it's fine?” Natasha asked.

“So far so good,” Cynthia said.  “I mean, I'm not a doctor and you’re doctor will be able to tell you more but this is all in the normal regions.  We can take a look again at eight weeks and you’ll be able to see the heartbeat.”

Natasha relaxed and nodded.  “Thank you.”

“Agent Romanoff,” Cynthia said as she pulled out the wand.  “It’s still very early stages, so there are no promises made that this will be a successful pregnancy but if you're ever really panicking, you can just call and I can check on them.  I don't mind.  Even if it's the middle of the night.”

“Really?” Natasha said, even as you internally cursed at the idea of being woken up for an ultrasound at midnight.

“Yeah, if it will put your mind at rest,” she said.  “We can keep a close eye on them.”

“Thank you,” Natasha said earnestly.  “I appreciate that.”

“No problem,” Cynthia said as she started packing up.  “Okay, I'll forward all this on to Martina and she'll get in touch.”

“Can I put clothes on?” You asked, hopefully.

“Sure can,” Cynthia said.  “I hope it was as good for you as it was me.”

You laughed as you got up.  “I mean, I’ve had better,” you teased.  “But I guess I've had worse too.”

“Solid average, right where I was aiming,” Cynthia joked.

You went into the dressing room laughing and got redressed into your uniform.  Cynthia was gone when you returned and Natasha and Clint were waiting expectantly for you.

“So that’s good news,” you said.  “Nat, you get one.  And Clint, you only get one.”

Clint snorted.  “Yeah, that was a relief.  I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl.

“Long time off before you find that out,” you said as the three of you headed out.  “What do you want?”

“Hmm,” Clint mused.  “I don’t even care.  I’m gonna dress them in purple either way.”

“Your brother had red hair right?”  You asked.

“He does,” Clint confirmed.

“Little redhead baby,” you said, running your hand over your stomach.  “Oh imagine if they get the red hair gene and the blue-eyed one.  That’s the rarest one.”

“Then they’ll look like Pepper and Tony will think you had her kid,” Clint joked.

Natasha stopped walking as the two of you were babbling to each other and it took you both a moment to realize that she wasn’t with you anymore.  When you both realized she wasn’t with you, you turned and looked at her.  She was covering her face with her arm.

“Nat, what’s wrong?”  Clint said, going over to her and putting his arm around her shoulders and crouching so he was face to face with her.

She shook her head.  “When you started talking about what they’ll look like, I could picture them.  I want them so bad, Clint,” she said, taking her hand away from her face.  She wasn’t crying but she seemed closed.

Clint pulled her into his arms and held her, looking almost as helpless as she seemed.  It was not at all how you were used to seeing them, but it was getting more and more common as the process progressed.  You hoped by the time the baby was looking like a baby she’d accept it was going to happen for them.

“You’re gonna have that baby in your arms, little redhead with blue eyes.  I promise, Nat,” he soothed.

She hid her face in his chest and breathed him in without saying anything.  He just held her rubbing her back.  You stood there watching them, wanting to leave because this was their moment and despite the fact they were your best friends and you were carrying their baby, this part was private and had nothing to do with you.  Yet at the same time, you wanted to go to them and reassure them.  You wanted to tell them that you knew this was going to work.  You knew for sure.  So you just stood and waited awkwardly for them.

Natasha took a deep breath and pulled back.  “Okay,” she said.  “I’m okay.  Sorry.  This whole thing is so much harder than I expected.”

“Do you regret it?”  Clint asked, his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist.

She shook her head.  “No.”

“Good,” you said.  “‘Cause I’m not raising this baby alone.”

Clint started laughing and draped his arm around Nat’s shoulders.  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said.

“Alright, you two,” you said.  “I gotta get back to work.  Filing shit or whatever busy shit Steve’s got me doing.”

“I think I’m gonna go punch some things,” Natasha said with a nod.

“That sounds fun,” Clint said.  “Shall we all meet for lunch?”

“Yeah, the cafeteria at 12.30?” Natasha asked.

“Sounds good,” Clint said and they both looked at you.

You chuckled.  You were theirs for the next 9 months, and you felt that it should annoy you.  It didn’t though.  You just wished it would be for longer.

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clintasha #clintasha x reader #hawkeye #black widow #hawkeye fanfic #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #the surrogate

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, October 2nd

BUFFY: Ew. SPIKE: It's not blood, it's bourbon. BUFFY: (slower) Eeeeew.

~~Crush~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Daylight (Angel/Cordelia/Doyle, T) by aliciajazmin

Ashes to Ashes (Buffy/Giles, T) by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)

Kinktober Drabbles (Buffy/Giles, E) by Skyson

Bump (Buffy/Giles, E) by froxyn

It's Important (Anya, Buffy/Giles, M) by froxyn

Watchers (Buffy & Giles, G) by poisonouschicken

Somewhere Begins Again, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, E) by alittlemoretime

Every night, I save you (Buffy/Spike, G) by angelvs

Momento Mori (Buffy/Spike, not rated) by eyesoflauramars

Barbed Wire (Buffy/Spike, T) by ChokolatteJedi

Diner (Oz, M) by evilshelly

The Morning Bell Amnesiac (Nikki Wood, G) by evilshelly

Vampire Pixies (Faith, Supernatural crossover, not rated) by evilshelly

Venom in Sunnydale (The Trio, Venom crossover, T) by Bl4ckHunter

[Chaptered Fiction]

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion, Chapter 217 (Ensemble, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure crossover, T) by madimpossibledreamer

Good Nurse, Chapters 1-10 (complete) (Xander/Spike/Willow, E) by evilshelly

Deeper than Blood, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Blackmysteria

Five times the Scoobies pretended Giles was their dad, Chapter 1 (Scoobies, G) by Midnightdemonht

Soldiers of the Light, Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, R) by sandy_s

Deeper than Blood, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Blackmysteria

Eviled Eggs, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Girlytek

Love's Call, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Joan963z

Magic Man, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only) by Touchstoneaf

Slayers and Trollhunters, Chapter 27 (Scoobies, Trollhunters crossover, FR15) by Starfox

Xander of Rivia, Chapter 1 (Xander, The Witcher crossover, FR15) by Balder

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: 3.18 Earshot (worksafe) by tmcarlee

3D sculpt: The Scythe (worksafe) by mastofnone

Artwork: Spike hyperrealistic digital painting (worksafe) by alexslilcorner

Artwork: Death by water (Buffy, Glory, worksafe) by antiquarians

Artwork: Tara Maclay - crystal (worksafe) by daisyann-jpg

Artwork: Giles and Giles/Jenny sketches (worksafe) by flummoxedangel

Artwork: Jenny Calendar (worksafe) by halfrek

Artwork: An early Rupert Giles (worksafe) by mouselafay-doodles

Artwork: Buffy Summers (worksafe) by skele-queen

Artwork: Misfit (Spike, worksafe) by theoctoberprojectcomic

Fanvid: Helium- Buffy and Angel by Theresa Soraire

Fanvid: Buffy and Faith | iris (btvs) by FaithIsLove

Video: Joss Whedon's Brand of Feminism by TheLetterFifteen

[Reviews & Recaps]

Thoughts on Bargaining by firemanwhenthefloodsrollback

Instead, You Go All Dumbledore On Me (The Dark Age) by herinsectreflection

The two part finale of season 2 by kimannebb

[Recs]

Fic search/fic rec: I would like to see that Watcher lady’s thesis on Spike by atlasshrugd and double-dutchess

Fic recs: Multiple Buffy and Spuffy fanfic recs by multiple poster

Vid rec: Buffy Summers (humor) | What The Hell by Little Tree Productions recced by Tuxedo_Mark

[Fandom Discussions]

Dead Things vs. Seeing Red *Triggering Warning: Rape* by itsnotmymind

[Buffy is Riley's monster girlfriend] by chasingfictions

Buffy and Faith becoming police officers in s12 of the comics by kristos-nikos

Buffy singing in “Walk Through the Fire” by oveliagirlhaditright

Does S5 become too much The Angel and Spike show? continued by Stake fodder and Nothing13

Giles in Angel season 5 continued by Stake fodder

How would you change/recreate the show? continued by BuffyNvrForgets

Even though Lindsey is Angel's biggest nemesis in the series... by jdpm1991

Wesley - the Dark Watcher? by Ok_Seesaw_8607

Watcher Battle by Fine-Taste-5029

Season 4 was the last time the show felt like classic "Buffy" by jdpm1991

Buffy/SMG sounds and looks so tired in season 7 by Excellent-Durian-509

Can we please talk about Riley's "Balls." poster by IAmTheClayman

What’s your favourite season of Buffy’s hair? by TheTealRaptor

What’s your favourite Buffy/Angel mistake? by Pidorasm

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

#btvs #ats #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series

[random-mha-thoughts]

Sick (Todoroki x Reader) Birthday Special!

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader 

Genre: Fluff (fluffed myself into devastation again)

Summary: It’s your boyfriend’s birthday, but unfortunately you’re feeling less enthusiastic about it because you’re sick as a dog.  So what happens when the birthday boy finds out you’re in less than top condition?

Inspo: Me, myself, and I bc I was sick this past week (and I’m still not over it), and this Tik Tok bc I’m a loser.

Word count: 1,698

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ONLY ICYHOT THAT MATTERS TODOROKI!!

I decided to combine a birthday special with an idea I had about a sick reader that I was going to write anyway because softboy Todo is the best Todo (besides the ones where he’s flirty but that’s different)

Don’t judge me for being on Tiktok, my cousin was showing me all the cosplayers and I was sold, the cosplayers are so talented, I’m really jealous T.T.  Not to mention there’s actually some really great fanfic fodder floating around there, so don’t be shocked if I post some others inspired by Tiktoks.  Anyway, enjoy the story!

I feel like I've been run over.

Every muscle in my body is either aching or stiff, my nose is stuffed, my throat hurts, and my body is cold and hot at the same time despite wearing flannel pajamas.  At random times last night, I woke up between whatever snipets of random dreams I can remember.

In short, I feel miserable and I've only been awake for 10 seconds.

I was hoping it wouldn't get to this point.  Two days ago, I started taking vitamin C supplements because I felt the tickling scratchiness starting up in my throat, and yesterday I was out with the Deku squad in the cold because Uraraka wanted to go to some wings place in the city in the freezing cold.  Never did I think it would escalate to this.

I blame Denki.  The idiot was coughing like a dog all over the place.

At first, I'm happy it's a Saturday and I can probably just lay in bed and sleep all day.  When I finally gather enough energy to roll over and look at my phone, I feel infinitely worse.

Fuck. It's January 11.

Today's Todoroki's birthday.  And I'm sick.  What kind of twist of fate is this?  I wanted to take him out to eat or go to an arcade or something just to spend the day with him, but it takes too much energy to get up.

I huff, guilt eating at me.  I have to do this, for my baby.  Kicking the covers off, I slowly roll up to sit at the edge of my bed, wrapping myself in my blanket and trudging to the bathroom.  The soreness in my limbs beg me to go back to bed, but I repeat the mantra, "For Shouto, it's for Shouto " to keep me going.

As soon as I see myself in the bathroom mirror I whine.  My face is so pale that my dark circles are more prominent, emphasizing my obvious lack of good sleep.  After I complete the strenuous task of brushing my teeth, I shuffle back to my bed and faceplant down at the foot side since I'm too tuckered out to get in properly.  I'll wait for Shouto to come after breakfast.  I'll just go back to sleep, I persuade myself as I drift off.  Maybe I can ask him to only spend half a day so I can come back and sleep, I'm sure he'll understand...

After some time, I'm startled out of my half slumber by a soft knock at the door.  "Love?  Are you awake?  It's me."

I smile at my precious angel's manners.  "Coming, just give me a sec."  I gather all my strength and try not to make it look like I'm dying on the inside as I open the door.

There Todoroki stands in his casual clothes, his endearing, ever-neutral face present as usual.  "Good morning.  You weren't down for breakfast, did you eat already?"

"No, not yet, I just woke up," I answer, my voice slightly hoarse.

His brows furrow.  "Did you drink any water yet at least?  They say it's good for starting your metabolism in the morning."

I shake my head.

He studies me, his heterochromatic eyes scanning me up and down in my blanket-clad state before scrutinizing my face.  "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Not really..."

He crosses his arms over his chest and steps towards me, making me take another one back.  "You know I don't like it when you don't take care of yourself.  You know what that means."  A dark aura washes over his face.

I cling to my blanket and screw my eyes shut, somewhat afraid of him when he gets like this.

A warm hand comes down on my head.  "You feel warmer than you're supposed to, the heat's radiating off of you.  Not to mention you're pale," he comments.  He removes his hand.  "Get back to bed, you're not going anywhere today."

"But it's your birthday, I wanted to spend the day with you," I cough at the end.  The muffled noise and the pain in my ears that follows males me realize my hearing is shot along with everything else wrong with me.

"We can spend the day in bed together," he argues, pushing me gently down to recline.

I groan at how stubborn he is.  "Can't we go out for half a day?  I promise I'll rest later."

"No," Todoroki dismisses tersely, refitting the blanket across my sheets.  "We can save that for tomorrow, you need rest."  He places a gentle kiss on my forehead and pauses.  "That's definitely a low to mid grade fever.  Can I trust you to stay here while I gather some supplies?"

I blink.  What.  "Yes, I'll stay put," I surrender.

After almost half an hour, Todoroki returns, awakening me from my slumber with arms full.

"What the-"  I eye the huge pot in his hands and a tote bag hanging off his arm.

He set the pot down on the floor.  "I took the liberty of making you chicken soup with some ginger for your throat.  I also brought some medicine for your fever, a box of tissues, a humidifier, some nose spray for the congestion, a bag of cough drops, a thermos of water, a carton of orange juice-"

I whine out loud like a child, feeling a huge rock of guilt on my chest.

"Is something wrong?  Are you in pain?"  His affectionate gaze flickers to me in worry.

"You're killing me, Shouto!"

He sits next to me on the bed, brushing my face with his fingertips.  "Did I do something wrong?  I'm sorry-"

"No, it's not you," I sigh.  "I just feel so bad.  Today's your birthday, and here you are taking care of me because I got sick instead of doing something fun.  I'm terrible."

His fingers brush my hair off my forehead.  "Love, it's not your fault that you're sick on my birthday-"

"Yeah, it's Kaminari's," I interject with a pout.

Todoroki chuckles.  "I'll fix him later.  I don't need anything special, I just want to spend time with you.  Besides, you being ill gives me the perfect excuse to stay by your side all day."

Warmth blooms in my chest at his loving words.  I sniff, "You're too good to me."

He kisses my forehead again.  "I'm fully expecting the same treatment if I ever get sick as repayment."

"Huh?!"

A heart-melting smile cracks across his face.  "Kidding, Love.  Just finish your soup and let me take care of you.  That's more than enough repayment."

The rest of the day passed in a comfortable blur.  Todoroki fed me soup by the bowl every few hours for my meals, made sure I drank water throughout the day, and gave me orange juice to drink.  "You need the Vitamin C to help your immune system work," he says.  All day, he wrapped us in blankets as we binge-watched shows and movies on my laptop while regulating my temperature with his quirk.  He catered to every need I had from my stuffy nose to my muffled hearing.  He even started massaging my sore muscles to ease the dull pain.  My heart couldn't feel fuller knowing he willingly nursed me back to health when he could've been doing something more fun or at least productive.

"Shouto, don't you want to at least go train today?" I ask.  "You don't have to sit here with me the whole day."

His hand around my body squeezes tighter.  "I'd rather be here with you than train."

I weakly hit his chest.  "You sound slightly obsessive."

Todoroki's cool fingers absently play with my hair, brushing my cheeks.  "If you fall asleep, I'll step out for a little so I don't bother you."

After a moment, I tilt my head up at him.  "I want to give you your gift at least.  It's in the top drawer."

Quirking an eyebrow, he gets out of bed and opens my chest of drawers.  "You didn't need to get me anything."  He pulls out a thin, black cardboard box on top.

"I'm warning you now, it's kind of stupid, but I didn't know what to get for a boy who already has everything," I admit, nervously watching him sit back next to me and open it.

Inside is a simple string bracelet with two silver balls flanking a golden Sun symbol.  Todoroki takes it out and immediately puts it on his right wrist to admire it, though his expression is blank as ever.

"I know you don't wear jewelry, but I wanted to keep it simple.  Besides, it's actually a couples set," I nod over to my bedside table.  "Mine is over there."

He surveys the mess and locks eyes with a bracelet of similar design except a silver crescent moon is in the middle.

"You get the Sun one because you're my precious sunshine boy," I chuckle before coughing to clear my throat.  "Sorry, that was really cheesy-"

Todoroki cups my face and seals my lips before I can finish.  I almost kiss him back instinctively, but I pull his hands away. ��"Shouto, I'm sick-"

"Thank you."  A soft smile appears across his features and his eyes glint in affection, washing me over in warmth.  "I'll wear it every day, when I'm not training so it won't break."

Before I can respond, he tackles me in another kiss, sending my heart into a frenzy of irregular beats.  His kisses are sweet yet searing, pouring all of his love as he moves against me, clinging to my body like a lifeline.

When Todoroki finally pulls away, my head spins, but I can't miss the grin on his face as he caresses my cheek.  "I love you," he whispers.

And just like that, my heart feels squeezed again.  "You're gonna get sick."

He pecks my nose.  "At least it's from you."

I bury my face in his chest, heat rushing to my cheeks and ears.  "I love you too, you big dork."

The rise and fall of his chest and his soft touch in my hair lulls me to sleep in his arms, a smile on both of our faces.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki birthday special #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #gender neutral reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

[theverybestpencilsoftuscaloosa]

The Heat of Battle

My first story for the One Piece Bingo event hosted by @op-pirate-fleet and also my first One Piece fanfic ever. Which is weird because I think I’ve tried to write like a hundred. Oh well. This is for the prompt “near-death experience,” which I think it just barely qualifies as, but hey! It’s my fanfic and I can be as loose as I want (OP Pirate Fleet please let me be as loose as I want). It’s a little thing about Usopp, who is my favorite, doing a thing. AO3 link here.

~~~

The fight had been going so well.

Usopp was watching from the foredeck, firing into the fray. Each shot was well-placed, and more often than not felled one of the fodder clogging the Sunny’s deck, but from time to time he aimed into the one-on-one battles in progress. 

Nami was missing her Clima-Tact, snatched from her hands by a self-proclaimed witch wielding what looked like a magnet on a stick -- which, against all odds, had worked. It didn’t work on wood, though, and Nami had swept up a broom handle for an improvised staff and pressed the attack. Now the two were locked in combat, the staccato rhythm of their fight audible from across the deck. 

The same rhythm was feeding the battle on the other side of the mast, where Brook was improvising on it, mixing stabs and slashes with swipes at his violin. Every few measures he managed to catch one of the bounty hunters with his music, and they dreamily swung into battle against his opponent -- but just as quickly, her pendant danced in front of their eyes, sending them back towards him with spiraling pupils and slack faces. 

Sanji had been sparring with what seemed to be the bounty hunters’ second-in-command, and taking the upper hand -- but then the woman fighting Brook had cried out for help in a perfect imitation of Nami’s voice, and as Sanji turned away, his own opponent had swung his tonfa into the cook’s knee. Sanji had dropped to the deck with a crack that was still echoing inside Usopp’s head, and now Robin, who had dispatched the second-in-command as he moved in to finish Sanji off, was standing over him and fending off anyone who came too close. Franky was on her flank, picking off bounty hunters with bursts of gunfire as they tried to slash the Sunny’s sails. Chopper was at the wheel, trying to keep away from the bounty hunters’ cannons. Luffy -- Usopp cocked his head and listened, and heard the sounds of wood breaking and panicked yells from the bounty hunters’ ship -- Luffy was fine. And Zoro…

The center of the Sunny’s deck was a no-man’s land. The grass gone, mowed down to the dirt. Every so often, a hapless bounty hunter would stumble or be thrown into the circle at the center and be flung out, bloodied and unmoving. Zoro was stripped to the waist, bandana tied around his head, all three swords in constant, furious motion. Opposite him was Riser, whose name was proudly emblazoned on the hunters’ sail, smiling, empty-handed, and utterly unharmed.

Usopp dropped another hollering bounty hunter headed for Nami’s back, and took stock of the situation. His crewmates were holding their own in their one-on-one fights, Sanji was still secure, and the cannon fire from the bounty hunters’ ship had faded into the distance. He looked out over the water at the distant ship and thought for a moment to ask Chopper to bring them closer, just in case they needed Luffy back on board -- but Chopper had abandoned the wheel, looking out over the deck. “I’m going to try and get to Sanji,” he said, voice shaky but certain, and as Usopp watched Chopper shifted into a reindeer, galloped across the deck, and leapt, nearly clearing the length of the deck. As he descended, he changed again, and a gorilla-sized doctor landed in the fray, swinging his fists as he pushed towards the wounded cook. 

Now alone on the foredeck, Usopp looked back to the fight dominating the center of the ship. “No banter, Roronoa?” Riser was still smiling. Shusui whistled towards his face, but before it struck he deflected with an open palm, sending it off course above his head. It didn’t even leave a mark on his glove. Zoro grunted, deflecting a chop towards his neck with the flat of his blade.

“Save your breath.”

Riser laughed. “Perhaps you feel the need to, but I’m hardly in--” He ducked a swipe that nearly went through his throat -- “Any distress here, Roronoa. Shame. Perhaps your captain would be more of a challenge.”

“You’re fighting me,” snarled Zoro, and brought two swords down in an arc as Riser laughed.

“Shame,” he said again, and delivered a punch that sent Zoro flying.

Usopp’s eyes widened. A second later, Zoro hit the main mast with a thud and dropped, barely landing on his feet. From across the deck, Usopp saw his eyes go hazy for a second. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“You long-nosed freak!”

Usopp had no more warning than that before what sounded like a small explosion annihilated the ground where he was standing. He looked down, realizing his legs had thrown him clear without any conscious effort, and then around, taking in the barrel-chested man standing behind him. He raised his fists, and Usopp’s eyes widened as he saw seven unlit bombs mounted on the man’s fingers. As he watched, the bounty hunter passed his left fist under his beard, where a lit match was braided into the hair, and swung at Usopp.

He dodged again, barely, feeling the heat of the explosion on his side. Bomb knuckles? Bomb knuckles? What kind of crap was that? It sounded like something from the Usopp Factory, but the early days of the Usopp Factory, before he had any idea of what was cool and daring and what would blow your hand off. Honestly, how stupid would you have to be to use --

Usopp came back to himself and realized he had backed into a corner. The bounty hunter was advancing, both fists raised to his chin. One by one, all six of the remaining fuses ignited. The man smiled a horrible smile. “Nighty-night.” Both of his fists slammed home into Usopp’s chest.

Nothing happened.

The bounty hunter blinked, and looked down. Between Usopp’s chest and his bombs, the sniper was holding something: a small, circular, spiraling shell, marked with even holes. His eyes widened. He looked back up.

Usopp stared the bounty hunter in the face. Say something cool, he thought to himself. Come on. He laughed nervously. “Whoops.”

Both of them screamed nearly in unison. Usopp clutched at his wrist, feeling the aftershock travel up through his shoulder with such intensity he thought it would pop from its socket. The bounty hunter took it far worse, flying backwards through the air and over the side of the Sunny altogether. Slumped against the rail, Usopp massaged his wrist, flexing his fingers as he reached for Black Kabuto again. He stuffed the Impact Dial back into his pocket and pushed himself up, peering down at the battles again. 

As he watched, Nami leapt backwards, dodging a wild blast of hot air from her opponent, who was now -- Usopp winced -- inexpertly wielding the Clima-Tact. Apparently Nami didn’t care for it either, as she whacked the other woman upside the head, yelling something about weather patterns Usopp could only half hear over the noise of the battle. Brook lashed out with his sword and got the hypnotist in the shoulder, and her pendant fell from her fingers -- releasing a dozen fighters from their stupor. Chaos rippled across the deck as those bounty hunters came to, unsure of where they were, and began to swing wildly, unable to distinguish friend from foe. Chopper was forced to drop to the ground, activating Guard Point and shielding Sanji with his own body. Eyes sprouted across Robin’s skin to watch every angle of approach, and Franky shed his hands’ false skin, meeting the wave of bounty hunters with fists of naked steel. Usopp watched it all happen in a matter of seconds before his eyes fell to Zoro.

He had a horrible realization.

“Zoro!” Usopp screamed over the increasing chaos of battle. If Zoro heard him, he didn’t respond. “Zoro!” Usopp screamed, and then for good measure sent a lead ball whistling past the swordsman’s ear. That got his attention, a quick backwards glare before Zoro ducked under a swipe from Riser. That was all right, Usopp thought. Zoro could yell at him later. Usopp just had to make sure he survived.

“Zoro, duck!”

Zoro looked back and saw Usopp’s slingshot drawn back, aimed squarely at Riser -- and at himself. With a curse, he dodged another swing and rolled, leaving the bounty hunter momentarily alone in the center of the deck. It was all Usopp needed. He closed his eyes and let the projectile loose.

As if in slow motion, the ball flew through the air towards Riser. He saw it coming, smiled, and raised his hands, poised to block the projectile perfectly. Less than a foot away, it exploded into a burst of orange flame.

Riser went over backward, gloves burning. Usopp was doubled over, stomach cramping from stress, but he managed to give Zoro a thumbs up. “Dials,” he said, panting. “In his gloves.” Zoro blinked. Then he nodded evenly, respectfully, just once. Usopp sighed in relief as he turned away, back to Riser, who was straightening up, but Zoro was already in motion, swords arrayed in front of himself, and Riser was too slow to block as he sprang forth. 

“Oni Giri!”

For a second, as Zoro touched down behind the enemy captain, there was silence. The fighting slowed as all eyes turned to Riser, dead center of the deck, reeling from the triplet slashes across his chest. Usopp smiled smugly. Take that, you bastard! Teach you to use the great Usopp’s own trick against him.

Then the slashed fabric fell away from Riser’s chest, and Usopp saw the skin underneath: hard and reddish pink, spiraling outwards and patterned with tiny holes.

“Shame,” said Riser, shaking his head. “A true, true shame.”

And then he exploded.

Halfway across the ship, Usopp was hurled back by the force. Black Kabuto dropped from his hand, spinning away, seconds before he slammed into the Sunny’s railing and blacked out. He came to a few seconds later, head spinning, blood in his mouth. The rigging was slashed to pieces, the sails hung in tatters, and deep grooves scored the lawn. Usopp, one eye cracked, scanned the deck for anyone left standing. He saw Nami, crumpled against the door to the womens’ cabin. Brook, folded in half precariously over the railing. Franky, Robin and Sanji all piled atop one another. Chopper slumped against the mast, slowly deflating out of Guard Point -- and Zoro, flat on his back in a pool of his own blood, Riser standing over him.

The bounty hunter was talking, but Usopp didn’t hear a word. The rest of the hunters were unconscious, their bodies littering the deck, and Riser’s back was to him. He was up on his elbows now, mind racing, looking for a way out. Riser’s body had transformed. The Dial armor covered his body like chitin, deep spiraling grooves running through his skin. Up his arms, over his back, even his head -- Usopp shuddered. What was he going to do?

Then he saw it. Tiny, barely the size of a coin, but there on the back of Riser’s neck, right at the base of his skull: a patch of unblemished skin. It was a small target, but Usopp had hit smaller from farther away. But he didn’t have his slingshot -- he looked around.

Just to his right, as if placed there by an invisible hand, was a pistol.

Usopp looked up. Riser’s foot was on Zoro’s chest. Think, think. Black Kabuto had to be somewhere, but -- there was no time. He had no choice. Usopp felt his stomach flip as he reached out and grasped the handle of the pistol. Riser was drawing back his foot, hovering above Zoro’s throat, and Usopp felt his stomach rise into his throat, and he raised his arm, and --

In one quick, smooth motion, he hurled the pistol, sending it end over end through the air until the butt of it smacked Riser square in the back of the head. He stumbled forward from the impact, fell forwards, and hit the deck hard. Usopp blinked. Then, cautiously, he punched the air, and then he laughed and got to his feet and screamed as Riser pushed himself up into a kneeling position.

Usopp scrambled back, dropping to the deck as Riser stood and turned. It was too late to play dead, Usopp realized, and as he watched the color leeched from Riser’s skin, the patterns crawling over his face and chest to concentrate in his right arm. It swelled and darked, and Riser raised it towards Usopp with murder in his eyes.

“I was saving this for your captain,” he said. “But I’ll settle for you. Dial-Dial: Infinite Reje--”

There was a twang, like a rubber band fired into the air. Riser turned. Standing on the deck less than a foot away, shirt torn and burnt, blood streaking his face, was Monkey D. Luffy.

“Usopp.” Usopp looked to his captain, past the Dial man standing between them, and almost sobbed with relief. “Sorry. You guys drifted away, and their ship was broken, so I had to--”

“You,” snarled Riser. “I will take your head, Monkey! Take this! Dial-Dial--”

Luffy’s fist slammed into his jaw, and Riser fell to the deck again. This time, he didn’t get up.

*       *       *

    “Ow!” Usopp jumped in alarm, and looked up. Franky was standing over him, arms raised in a powerfully super dance pose. He sighed, trying to force himself to relax.

    “Franky. Hey. What’s up?”

    “Just came in to check on you, bro,” Franky said. “Sanji’s up and kicking -- uh, well -- up and walking, and he’s starting on dinner soon!” He flashed Usopp a smile. Usopp didn’t return it.

    “Thanks, Franky. I’ll be right down.”

Usopp sat in the library for a few minutes more, trying to settle his stomach. Before long, though, he gave up, and headed down to the galley.

“Usopp!” Chopper was the first one to greet him, looking up at Usopp with a brilliant smile. “Are you doing okay? Still feel fine?” Usopp’s hand reflexively went to his face, where a bandage covered the cut on his cheek: somehow, the only wound he’d taken in the entire battle. He snatched his hand away guiltily and nodded.

“Yup! Doing great!”

“Your back isn’t hurting you, is it?” Chopper’s brow wrinkled in concern.

“Nope! Just fine!”

“Oh, thank goodness -- Zoro! No!” Chopper turned away, growing into his human form as he reached out to take hold of Zoro, who was absentmindedly tugging at his bandages. With a sigh of relief, Usopp took a seat at the table. 

He looked around at the crew. They were trading stories from the battle. Just then, Nami was describing how the woman she had fought nearly electrocuted herself trying to use the Clima-Tact. “I should have let her keep going,” Nami said dismissively. “Honestly, she probably would have knocked herself out.” Usopp laughed along with the rest of the crew, but couldn’t help looking at Nami’s right leg, bandaged from ankle to knee. 

As he looked around the table, he noticed the sheer amount of work Chopper had done evident on every body present. Sanji was leaning on a crutch while he stirred the pot, gingerly testing his left leg every so often. Robin was listening attentively to Brook, conspicuously keeping her hands slack in her lap so as not to disturb the heavy bandaging on her arms. Franky was wearing his sunglasses, but Usopp noticed a slight slackness under his left eye and realized it wasn’t there at all -- something he recognized from the time or two he’d had to help Franky recalibrate his vision. Even Luffy had taken a beating dealing with the crew of the bounty hunters’ ship, and Zoro had come off worst of all, his skin barely visible below his neck. Usopp’s fingers twitched, and he resisted the urge to once again touch the single lonely bandage on his own face.

“All right,” said Sanji, snapping Usopp from his thoughts. “Soup’s up in fifteen.”

“Soup?’ Luffy said plaintively. Sanji shot him a look that shut him up (just barely, judging by his crestfallen face) and leaned against the bar separating the kitchen and the table.

“So,” he said, looking around the room. “What happened after I went down?”

Usopp waited expectantly in the silence that opened up, and only realized after a few seconds that Sanji was looking at him. No, strike that, everyone was looking at him. Even Luffy had shaken free of his soup-filled melancholy to stare inquisitively at Usopp. He swallowed nervously. What had happened?

Well, Sanji, Usopp thought, I stood on the deck away from the fighting, threw one guy overboard, then totally miscalculated and almost got Zoro killed. Oh, and I’m fine, thanks for asking. But his instincts kicked in, and what he said was:

“Oh, you know. The bounty hunters were after me, obviously, so I cleverly evaded them, but then the captain pulled out a crazy special move and took down Zoro, so I had to step in and…” He trailed off. “And… I stepped in to…” Save him, supplied his brain. Don’t stop bullshitting now. But he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Sanji chuckled and nodded, not unkindly, and turned away. “Okay,” he said, “so what actually happened? Anyone? Robin?” Usopp’s gaze dropped, his stomach twisting again. Maybe, if he was very quiet, no one would notice if he just slipped out the door.

“Of course, Sanji,” Robin said. “But I’m not sure what else I could say. Usopp gave more or less the whole story.” She smiled. “Aside from the bounty hunters targeting him specifically. But perhaps they did have a grudge against him. Otherwise, that was all correct. He hung back, their captain rendered most of us unconscious, and Usopp stopped him from killing Zoro before Luffy returned.”

Usopp just stared, slack-jawed. Robin, apparently not noticing, turned to Zoro. “Would you agree?”

Zoro looked at Usopp for a moment. “You throw that gun?” Usopp, wordless, nodded. Zoro shrugged. “Then yeah, that’s all true.” He turned his head to Sanji. “Got that, cook? I thought that asshole broke your leg, not your eardrums. Or are you just too stupid to listen?”

Chopper threw himself between Zoro and Sanji, trying to restrain them both at once, while Luffy cheered them on. The rest of the crew’s attention followed, and Usopp sank into his chair, staring at the table -- only to be surprised when Robin leaned in, speaking softly so only he could hear.

“That was very smart,” she said.

“Yes,” agreed Usopp, having absolutely no idea what she meant.

“The gun,” she said, and Usopp froze, thinking back to exactly what he had done. Oh, god…

“I was following the hunter who dropped it, and I saw them fire without reloading,” she continued. “Were you watching them as well, or did you know it was empty just from picking it up?” She shrugged. “Either way, it was an impressive throw. Well done, Usopp.” And then she leaned away, turning to the spectacle with an impenetrable smile.

Usopp blinked. The gun was empty. Right. He had known that. 

Right?

Well, he thought as Chopper burst into Guard Point, forcing Sanji and Zoro apart as the kitchen filled with fur, maybe it didn’t matter. It had all worked out in the end anyway.

#mine creation #one piece #opfic #one piece fanfiction #usopp #in case anyone was wondering #the initial idea for this story didn't come from the bingo card #it came from me thinking what if usopp was in a position where he was forced to use a gun #and the answer was unexpectedly good #opbingo2020 #almost forgot that one whoops

[whitewallwhispers]

Little Lies

Narcos - Javier Peña - Series

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

A young writer moves to Colombia to perform research on the drug war for her latest novel. She’s willing to do anything for information, which leads her down a rabbit hole that begins to blur the line between pretending to be someone and becoming something she might not be ready for.

With the assistance of D.E.A. Peña she’s been making good progress, but some of her other sources have turned sour.

Warnings: Very Graphic. Guns, gunshot wounds, blood, intestinal matter, knives, burns, more blood. Mentions of vomit. Strong language (pretty much every expletive under the sun). Nothing you haven’t seen in the show, but a lot for a fanfic. Also I feel it’s important for me to note that you should pretty much never attempt anything described in this chapter. Javier observes some of the right safety precautions but not all of them. Don’t try this at home, kids.

My hope is that you can imagine this character as any race with any style of hair (as someone with short hair I get annoyed when every fic mentions long locks and ponytails).

Author’s Note: This chapter is very heavy. If you don’t feel like you can stomach the gore, I’ll give a succinct, clean summary of events in Chapter Eight.

Tag List (Open! Chat or Reply): @fanfiction-trashpile | @sophster1881 | @theringostarfanclub | @thinemineours

“Are you there?”

The sound of Javier’s voice made her jump. She hadn’t fallen asleep, exactly. But she’d lapsed out of consciousness. Not as if she’d fainted, but as if she’d gone inside herself and left this world behind. She’d been somewhere dark, somewhere endless and silent and empty. Like space, but without the stars. There was no light in her, not now.

“Javi?” She knew it was him, but she wasn’t sure if she was really there, so calling out his name felt right.

He stepped through the remnants of her door, gun drawn, surveying the room.

When he caught sight of Manuel’s body on the floor his face froze in an expression of surprise and horror.

He turned to look at her then.

Whatever he saw was enough for him to shove his gun in the back of his jeans and rush over to her, slipping slightly on the lake of blood that filled the entryway and far end of the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” He’d never sounded so panicked. It didn’t suit him.

Her eyes were transfixed on the reflecting light that shimmered on the surface of Manuel’s slowly congealing blood. “Sure.”

“What happened?”

“They came. To kill me.”

“Did you…?”

“Kill them? Yeah, yeah I think so. They’re all dead, anyway.”

“Are you hurt? How much of this is yours?” His eyes were feverishly looking over her, his hands hovering between them as if he wanted to touch her but couldn’t.

“How much of what?”

“The blood. You’re completely covered in blood, is any of it yours?”

That was a good question.

“I don’t think so.”

“Can you stand?”

She tried to, but as soon as she was upright her head became full of static, billowing with hazy pressure that sent the room spinning into blurry chaos. Javier caught her just in time before she cascaded to the floor.

“Fuck. I think you might be hurt,” he cursed.

“I think I’d know if I was injured.”

Would she, though? Now that she thought of it, she hadn’t really been able to feel her own body during it all. The only time she had was when she’d thrown up. She’d been numb ever since.

“God, I can’t even tell, you’re so soaked.” He grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and began wiping at her face and neck. It was useless. The cloth was completely coated in a matter of seconds and then he was merely smearing it across her skin. He let go of her to try to rinse it out in the sink and she slumped right back down the wall again, catching herself on the counter and clinging to it for support.

Javier turned to look at her, then at the towel in his hand, then back to her.

“Fuck it.” He tossed the towel in the sink and picked her up in one fluid movement, her legs dangling limply over one of his arms and her head lolling back over the other. The movement made her feel like she was going to be sick, so she closed her eyes and did her best not to vomit all over him.

She had the vague sense that they were moving through her apartment.

He’d have seen the other body by now, then.

The one she’d shot in the head and used as cannon fodder to keep her safe from Manuel and the boy with the beautiful eyes. Thankfully he was still hidden away behind her bed.

Then, there was the sound of running water. Cold linoleum pressed against her legs as hot water poured over her like a sweltering summer rain. She opened her eyes to find herself on the floor of her tub, the shower turned on and soaking her from her shoulders to her thighs. Javier was sitting behind her, propping her up against his chest between his arms and legs, running his hands over her to try to slough off the blood into the water.

“Your clothes,” was all she could think to say.

They were both fully dressed. He’d be sopping wet. Somehow, that seemed important.

“We need to know if you’re hurt,” he answered. “Can I take off your shirt?”

She nodded weakly, but despite her efforts she couldn’t lift her arms high enough for him to do so.

Javier sighed heavily and gripped the front of her collar. With a grunt he pulled it apart - hard. Hard enough to tear the fabric all the way down the center. He wasted no time peeling it off of her as best he could, his hands once again working to push the blood that coated her into the water to be washed away.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that the fact that her bra, chest, and stomach were soaked in blood, even beneath her shirt, was probably a bad sign.

“Oh my God,” Javier stammered. “I think you’ve been shot.”

“I don’t know. I - I wouldn’t know. I haven’t felt anything.”

“Adrenaline. Holy shit. One in your right shoulder, one in your left hip.”

It was like a magic spell had been broken. The second she looked down at herself and noticed her wounds, they hurt. They fucking hurt, like nothing she’d ever felt before.

“I think you’re right,” she choked, her voice strained with pain and the tears that began to pour from her eyes like a faucet turned on high.

Suddenly, there was a voice calling at the front door.

“Peña?”

“Murphy! In here,” Javier yelled, “hurry.”

“I told you not to bring anyone else,” she said between labored breaths.

“Too risky.”

Then there was another man standing in the doorway of the bathroom, gun drawn. He looked both very similar to and very different from Javier - short hair pushed to one side, mustache, a heavy tiredness in his face that had been etched there by years of chasing druglords. But he was pale, and blonde, with blue eyes that widened as he took in the scene before him.

“What the hell happened? I didn’t hear anything, but the bodies -”

“I think she’s been shot, she’s been bleeding for almost an hour now. Do you have a knife?”

“A knife?” Murphy asked, bemused.

“We need to cauterize her wounds.”

“Jesus, Peña, shouldn’t we go to a hospital for that?”

“Didn’t you fucking hear me? She’s bleeding out.”

“We could put pressure to the wound?”

“An hour, Murphy. The time for stuffing a washcloth in it has passed. They can pump her full of antibiotics at the hospital to counteract an infection, but I’m not going to risk letting her die before we get there.”

“There’s a knife on the far side of my bed,” she piped up through gritted teeth. “On the floor.”

The thought of someone she didn’t know seeing the mess she’d made of the beautiful eyed boy made her wish she’d just bleed out already and die, but Javier seemed so concerned with her survival she answered only for his sake.

“Go get it,” Javier ordered. Murphy nodded and left. “And call for backup.” Then he spoke only to her. “Do you have any alcohol?”

“Like booze?”

Her body hurt so much it was making her head feel like she was operating five seconds behind reality, time becoming a fuzzy smear that clouded her vision and thoughts alike.

“I mean, I guess, if it’s hard. What about rubbing alcohol? Peroxide? Anything that might be helpful for disinfecting?”

“I think I have some nail polish remover in the cabinet?”

“Acetone should work.”

She was vaguely aware that Murphy returned then.

“Jesus. Wash it off as best you can,” Javier muttered before cupping his hands beneath the stream of water and pouring what he gathered onto her shoulder and hip to clear the wounds. Murphy set to work running the blade under the sink, scraping off as much of the blood and intestines as he could.

She couldn’t help but shudder.

Everything was ugly, everything hurt.

She couldn’t even tell if she was crying anymore. She was unaware of any part of her body other than where the bullets were embedded in her. They were agony. There were no words to describe it. They just ripped her apart from their cores. It was impossible.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Javi whispered in her ear. “We’re going to fix this. Murphy, grab the nail polish remover from under the sink and pour it on the knife. But not too much.”

“Right,” he replied, doing as Javier instructed.

“I’m going to lean forward to turn the shower off,” Javi murmured. “It might hurt.”

“Can’t get any worse,” she answered, her words short and staccatoed.

Javier did as he said he would, and oh God did it hurt more than she’d expected.

But what could she do?

She turned her face to bury it in Javier’s shoulder, her hands gripping the edges of the tub so hard she thought she might crush right through the linoleum.

“Hand me that towel and the nail polish remover, then go heat the blade up on the stove,” he ordered. Murphy did as he was told and left the room again. Javier began gently patting her shoulder dry, blood immediately seeping up into the previously pretty white fabric and painting it bright red.

No matter how little pressure he applied, it felt like he was punching her. Repeatedly. She cried out in agony, pressing her face even further into him.

“This is going to hurt even worse,” he murmured. To his credit, he placed a very soft kiss on her temple while pouring what felt like liquid fire over the wound on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She screamed.

“How long should I do this?” Murphy called from the kitchen.

“Until it starts getting red,” Javier answered, draping the towel over her lower body like a blanket.

No one could really describe what it felt like to burn to death, because they’d obviously  be dead.

But perhaps having cheap acetone poured into the gaping hole where you’d been shot was as close as you could get. It certainly seemed that way. She couldn’t conceive of any other way to categorize the pain.

“Bring a shirt or something when you’re done,” Javier yelled to Murphy, placing the bottle of nail polish remover on the floor before stroking her hair.

“Where am I gonna get a shirt?”

“Your own if you goddamn have to.”

“M-middle dr- fuck, drawer, of my d-dresser,” she coughed.

“Middle drawer of the dresser!” Javier repeated, loud enough for Murphy to actually hear.

She might’ve fainted then, however briefly, because the next thing she knew Javier’s voice was in her ear, begging her as if he’d already asked.

“Come on, you have to bite down on this, you’ll hurt yourself if you don’t.”

Her eyes flew open and she realized he was holding something, maybe one of her shirts, twisted around until it was like a rope. She opened her mouth to comply and Javier gently pushed it between her teeth.

“Hold her down, I’ll do it.”

Murphy was looming above her then, his hands firmly taking hold of her forearms and pressing them to her sides.

“I’m so sorry,” Javier whispered. “It’ll only be for a little bit.”

At that point she realized he was holding the knife, which certainly didn’t look like it’d been heated up.

But when he pressed it against her shoulder, she was met with a new threshold of burning she didn’t think possible. The scream that erupted from her was muffled by the cloth in her mouth, which she clamped down on so hard she was sure she’d bite right through it.

Everything was blinding white. Hell. Unbearable.

It was probably less than a minute, and he removed the knife every few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

And she’d have to do it again.

Her scream turned to a sob, then to a whimper, as Javier held the flat end of the blade firmly against her shoulder. Involuntarily, her body twitched and squirmed and did everything it could to get away. Murphy leaned into her, doing his best to hold her still. She wanted to, but every movement was out of her control.

“There,” Javier panted, finally taking the blade off of her skin for good. “Go heat it up again.”

Murphy grabbed the knife and left.

Javier wasted no time in gathering up the towel, dabbing away at her hip which was still profusely pouring blood. Now, in comparison to what had just happened, the pain in her hip was just a dull throb. That was, until Javier poured nail polish remover over it.

If the fabric hadn’t been stuffed in her mouth, she surely would’ve shattered her teeth or jaw or both.

“We’re almost there,” he soothed, finally ceasing his pouring and tossing the towel down towards her feet.

She turned her face into him again, desperate to feel something other than pain, but her face was numb and even the hand he ran across her cheek to wipe up some of her tears didn’t help.

“Should I do it or you?” Murphy was back, holding a red-hot knife aloft.

“Let it cool down a bit, til it’s not red, then you do it. You saw how I held it? Count to three and take it off. Count to three and put it back on. Just do that for about a minute.”

She closed her eyes as hard as she could. If she watched the blade cool down, she’d surely throw up once it wasn’t red anymore.

A stray thread of thought wove through her mind, a sickening sort of humor that was as dark as the safety behind her eyelids.

She’d wanted pain. Pain makes it easier to keep my feelings as simple as money makes yours.

A half laugh, half sob escaped her and she moved to cover her face. But Javier caught her arms and held them in place.

“Don’t,” he warned.

“I think it’s ready,” Murphy said grimly. “Hold her still.”

Her stomach lurched forward like a sprinter at the starting gun before sinking all the way back down to her spine.

For some reason, some stupid reason, she opened her eyes and watched.

It was the same as before - as if he was pushing hell itself against her skin. On and off. But the pain stayed just as strong even when the blade wasn’t touching her. Her body shook in protest, but Javier held her still, his fingers digging into her forearms as he fought against her. She screamed so hard it felt like her throat was tearing itself apart.

She watched her skin sizzle and burn and congeal together, the blood slowly ceasing to flow from her wound as Murphy continued to press the knife onto her in perfect cycles of six seconds. Three on. Three off. Javier buried his face in the crook of her neck, whispering quiet consolations into her skin.

Ironically enough, he seemed to be the one who was the one unable to watch this time around.

“I think it’s been a minute,” Murphy announced at last.

“Alright. Where’s our backup?”

“They should be here soon.”

“Check with them. We have to move these bodies and the car somewhere else. The cartel can’t know they died here. They can’t know she killed them.”

“She killed them? Jesus fucking Christ, Peña. What if they come here anyway? The door, the blood…”

“Hopefully the only people who knew her address are the two out there -”

“Three,” Murphy interjected.

“What?”

“There’s three. The third is behind her bed.”

“I - okay. Doesn’t matter. If anyone else knows, we’re fucked either way. We have to try, though.”

“Alright,” Murphy sighed. “Should I stay here and wait for them?”

Javier was silent for a few moments, mulling it over.

“Yeah. I can take her on my own.” He hooked his arms beneath hers, wrapped them around her midsection and stood, pulling her with him. The cloth fell from her mouth and the cry that escaped her was at full volume. She hadn’t been wearing her brace while seeing clients, and her ribs were still recovering. Pain seemed inescapable at this point. Inevitable. All-consuming.

And it did consume her. The last thing she saw was her own reflection in the mirror.

Was it even her reflection?

Whatever it was looked like something out of a nightmare.

Pallid, sickly, skin streaked with blood in alternating shades of deep burgundy and pale pink. Eyes that looked sunken, face a haunting painting of tears and pain and resignation unto both.

Something dark, and foreign, and tainted.

Then, as Javier scooped her up in his arms again, everything went black.

#narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #Javier Peña #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña fic #steve murphy #look who finally made an appearance! #love my dumb blonde boy #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #boyd holbrook #little lies

[daesungindistress]

not sure if you've been asked this before but do you think you will return to writing fic about bb and if so, would you include sr in your stories?

The last time I was asked this was back in March or April. And it’s difficult to give a final answer. I want to return to writing. The thought of abandoning all my WIPs and notes and ideas forever is a depressing one. And if I’m being honest, the longer I go without making something, be it art or fic, the emptier I feel.

Do I think I will? Return to writing? That I’m less certain about. The events of this year have left me feeling a bit disillusioned. Disenchanted. Disappointed. Yeah, they all kinda have the same meaning, but I guess I’m just trying to convey how this thing with Seungri, this tragedy, and the ongoing struggle within the fandom seems to have slowly stripped away my ability to separate BB’s public personas (and private selves) from the fictional versions we as writers play with. It’s broken down some necessary barriers.

The situation we’re in is too serious, too real, too heavy. And in my heart I feel there’s still too much uncertainty about their future. That uncertainty is steadily chipping away at the compartmentalization that let me comfortably turn them into characters and use them to tell stories. When I sit down and stare at all these notes from a happier, easier time I no longer see what I once did. I wonder, “Who wrote this? When? And how?” There’s some guilt too. Like, who am I to toy with them like this, to reduce them to fanfic fodder when so much has gone so wrong? Some fans have successfully escaped into fiction this year to forget; for me it’s the other way around. It’s been nine months but in a way the scandal is still front and center in my mind, and fanfic can’t overpower that. If anything, I’m almost… afraid to touch it again.

For example… the one fic I finished and posted this year, Sugar Kiss, was a smutty ToDae oneshot… and, regrettably, a sequel to a DaeRi fic. It was something I started late last year and had mostly completed by January, well before the scandal reached a boiling point. All the fic needed by then was a little polish, and it took me until July to find the energy for it. The teaser/summary was “It’s Daesung’s turn to be a bad influence” because in the fic before it he and Seungri had gotten up to some ~naughty fun~ together and Daesung decided he liked it enough to pass it on. So in Sugar Kiss Daesung shares what he learned from Seungri with Seunghyun. The joke was that Seungri persuaded him into mischief. Seunghyun even has a line in which he calls Seungri “a bad influence,” which one reader got really upset over, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way when I initially wrote it earlier this year. It was meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Just some silly, sexy, lighthearted fun, nothing more. I felt a little iffy posting it on the heels of Seungri’s scandal but in the end threw caution to the wind and went ahead with it.

Then, a few days later, the news about Daesung’s building broke and suddenly people were saying, “Daesung might be in on it!” and “He’s just like Seungri!” and “Daesung said they’d become close recently!” And I was like 😰 I had a few days to feel accomplished, after that it was pure regret. It’s like nothing is safe. Things I enjoyed before without thought or care… just aren’t that fun anymore. It’s really sucked the joy out of storytelling using real people. The thought lurks: what if some of the questionable stuff I write about them turns out to be, well, real? And then I have to either denounce or defend what I’ve written. People are still leaving kudos on that fic and its prequel, and every time I get the notification I wonder what they really think of it.

Anyway, to answer your other question: even though my view of Seungri has soured significantly since spring, my feelings on the matter of his involvement in my future fanfics, if any, have remained… largely the same. I think. The last time I talked about this I said I might continue to include him, but clarified that it would depend on the timeline (pre/post 2019) and setting (canon compliant, alternate universe). And also what role needs filling. Even after all we’ve learned about him, Seungri is still an interesting character to me with traits that I consider useful for the types of stories I like to tell. He’s a good foil for Daesung due to their opposing personalities, interests, lifestyles, values…. and for this reason I’ve always had a tendency to depict him as someone who brought conflict to the group in some form or another. His fans who found their way to my fanfics sometimes asked me to be kinder to him. Let’s just say now there will be no more pressure to pull my punches. That said, I expect any parts he does have will be small and fairly insignificant. A line or two, maybe even just a mention. My goal isn’t to pretend he never existed, just to avoid giving him undue attention that might, y’know… encourage people to like him.

…there is, however, one possible exception to that. Carnivores. Don’t think I’ve touched on this here yet? I had tentative plans to continue that series one day. Yes, even though I swore it was over. The story and setting is still meaningful to me and those characters feel more divorced from their inspirations, the Big Bang members, than any of my others. “They have lives of their own,” a reader once said to me, and I have to agree. You could change their names and I would still recognize them. I hoped it would be nothing too serious this time, nothing too intricate, just a oneshot catching up with the pack in their new home a year or two down the road. Here’s the problem though: Seungri was finally going to get something he’d always wanted. Something hinted at in the final scenes of Innocence & Instinct. And I wanted to scratch the surface of how they dealt with that.

Too bad 2019 has all but blown those plans to pieces. Carnivores!Seungri is not Big Bang’s Seungri or Lee Seunghyun, he is just a fictional character bearing his name and likeness, but even so, the absolute last thing I want to do right now is give him something he’s always wanted. No matter how I look at it, the thought of writing him into an important role comes off as really distasteful to me right now. So if that’s ever going to materialize, yeah, it’s gonna be awhile.

But wait. What if I give him something he’s always wanted… and then take it away. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? It came to me one day months ago, how I could work the events of this year into the series. Some parts of Carnivores do mirror real life events involving BB (such as Jiyong, Youngbae, Seunghyun, and Daesung confronting Seungri in Dreams Like Ashes over fears that he’s going to leave them for his newly formed group of human friends. Though I sort of glossed over it, this was based on things they were saying about him back in 2016, which was when that fic was written). So working his recent rise and fall into a future installment wouldn’t exactly be a new approach for this series. You could even say I’m a little intrigued by the idea.

Still, it’s too soon. Too fresh. And I don’t know how it ends, in this world or that one, or if I even have the creative energy to tackle something so… disruptive. Reality is hard enough. So until then, those plans will stay right where they’ve been all this time, boxed up in a dusty corner of my mind. I hope that one day I can reach back inside that box and share what I find with you all. Until then, I think what I need is a clearer sense of direction from BB… and more time to work up the courage to try.

#sorry this got long and rambling #I don't get to talk about my fanfic much #though I've been giving it a lot of thought #bigbang #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #anon #carnivores #seungri #also I haven't seen my otp together in almost 3 years so there's that too

[miacutie]

Fanfiction or Reality?

AO3 LINK

Wei Wuxian discovers a fanfiction site about him and his best friend/classmate Lan Wangji.

 As much as it horrifies him, one of the stories catches his attention.

READ MORE 

They're whispering again.

 Wei Wuxian's eyes narrow as he sees Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng talking against the lockers in hushed tones. They’d been doing this a lot recently, and it was starting to get suspicious. Actually now that he thinks about it, a lot of people at school have been doing this around him as well. 

Honestly he just wanted to go home already after gym, but he may as well get to the bottom of this once and for all.

 'No way, that's my brother!'

'Crazy right? Check out how many views there are.'

'Gross, I don't want to see Lan Wangji and my brother shacking it up in any form!'

 ‘Excuse me, what?’ Wei Wuxian says loudly. They jump at the sudden interruption, and Nie Huaisang quickly hides his phone behind his back. 

 ‘Nothing.’ 

‘Nothing.’

 ‘Nothing my ass, what’s this about me and Lan Zhan?’ He moves over to his friends craning his neck to have a look. 

 ‘I don’t know! Really!’ Nie Huaisang babbles, still moving his phone out of reach every time Wei Wuxian tries to swipe at it. 

 ‘Ugh, just show him.’ Jiang Cheng groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. ‘Then maybe they’ll stop denying it and cut out the obnoxious pining.’ 

 Wei Wuxian finally manages to grab the phone, only to be greeted by a website. A fan site…?

He scrolls through it and regrets it immediately. There’s dozens, no multiple pages worth of short stories. Short stories of him and Lan Zhan. Him and his best friend doing unspeakable things to each other.

 ‘W-what…’ Wei Wuxian says weakly. The site even has a gallery, full of photos taken from different perspectives of him and Lan Zhan hanging out together. 

A photo of him leaning on Lan Wangji’s desk, chatting. Another picture of him clinging onto Lan Wangji’s sleeve. Lan Zhan helping him tie up his hair with his custom red scrunchie. A photo of him getting piggybacked when he got a twisted ankle at the school carnival.  Even a photo of him fast asleep on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. 

 ‘What is this!?’ He chokes, thrusting the screen in Jiang Cheng’s face. ‘Why are people writing things and taking photos of me and Lan Zhan?’ He’s totally dumbstruck. ‘I mean I can understand if people made a site for Lan Zhan, but why am I in it too?’ 

 ‘Calm down.’ His brother gingerly pushes the phone back at him. ‘Looks like the girls in your class started it, and things got a little out of hand.’ 

 ‘A little? Why did no one tell me this earlier?!’

 ‘We were afraid of your reaction.’ Nie Huaisang admits. ‘Can I have my phone back now?’ 

 Wei Wuxian hands the phone back to him, feeling betrayed. How could his friends do this to him?

 ‘You guys can NOT show this to Lan Zhan! He’ll 1000% stop being friends with me if he knows this is how everyone thinks of us!’ He whines, distraught. ‘You guys KNOW how long it took just for him to stop seeing me as his enemy!’

 ‘Chill out, we won’t endanger your relationship with your precious ‘Lan Zhan.’ Jiang Cheng drones, deadpan. 

 ‘Hey, only I get to call him that! You don’t have the privilege!’ 

 ‘It’s because you talk like that is why there’s a website.’ Nie Huaisang supplies unhelpfully. 

 ‘Hey!’

 ---

 When he gets home that night, he types the url into his laptop and goes straight to the fan website. 

Wei Wuxian scrolls through the page, stopping to read a story here and there. Some were terribly out of character, like having Lan Zhan date girls to make him jealous, or Wei Ying throwing Lan Zhan aside after a stuttered love confession. However some are quite cute, like coffee dates or movie nights that he could see them doing on a usual weekend. 

The top fic there had a shocking 10,000 views. Wei Wuxian knew there weren't even half of that many students in the school, let alone reading a story about him and Lan Wangji!

'Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation.' He reads aloud. It was by some author called WangXian. They even had ship names now?

Skimming through the story, it seemed to be set in ancient China, with them being something called ‘cultivators.’ It even had his friends featured in it, from differing clans and sects all coming to study in a place called the Cloud Recesses. 

It was pretty well written, he had to give them that. He even laughed when the Wei Wuxian in the story pranks Lan Wangji with porn, as it definitely sounded like something he had done when they were kids. 

But as he kept reading he felt himself get steadily more invested in the plot, and the rich detail the author had put into creating that world. It was actually really good, he could totally picture it becoming a live action drama or movie. 

Wei Wuxian had almost forgotten that it was supposed to be a romantic fanfic about him and his best friend until the kiss.

 He freezes reading it, all of fictional Lan Wangji's romantic feelings and lust as he forces the fictional version of him against a tree. It starts to get hot and heavy, getting into detail about-

Slam!

He slams the laptop lid shut, embarrassed.

 No way! No way. This wasn't a thing. Him and Lan Zhan, they were bros, homies if you will.

 Wei Wuxian could picture the distaste if Lan Zhan ever caught him reading this. His delicate features would furrow and his eyes would go icy and the curve of his soft lips would-

 Nope.

 He flops himself sideways and pulls the covers over his head. The laptop charging light blinks back at him, almost teasingly.

 Squeezing his eyes shut, he wills sleep to come.

 --

 He is greeted the next day by Lan Wangji, waiting for him at his garden gate as always. Lan Zhan frowns slightly, cocking an eyebrow at his dark eye bags and dishevelled hair.

 'Oh this? I didn't get much sleep last night, ahah..'

 Of course he couldn't. Wei Wuxian had given into temptation and continued reading after ten minutes of rolling around in anguish.

Just one more chapter he had reasoned, and before he knew it he had marathoned the entire fic until it was 3am. Haggard, he had clicked the next chapter only to find out that he was up to date. That couldn’t be it! Where was the rest of it? He needed to know what happened next. 

Checking the date, it had been updated last Thursday, meaning there probably won’t be a chapter out anytime soon. 

 After a loud frustrated groan and Jiang Cheng banging on the wall for him to shut up, he had created an account and written a very enthusiastic review.

  fluterave420_6969

 This fic was BRILLIANT!!! You should be a famous author!!! Now of course Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are friends and NOTHING more but  the rest of it was great!!! You wrote their interaction really well 

ヽ( ´ ▽ ` ) ﾉ

Plz plz update soon!!!

 Well of course he couldn't tell Lan Zhan about all that.

 'Don’t worry, I'll just grab a coffee and I'll be fine and dandy.' Wei Wuxian chirps, flattening his hair down as they walk side by side to school.

Lan Wangji is silent as usual on their morning walks. Wei Wuxian chances a side glance at his elegant profile.

He's pretty, he thinks vaguely. Well obviously he's always known, but like, in a platonic way. Like how one would find a lotus flower beautiful, or a sunset.

The people in school definitely knew. They would always talk about Lan Zhan being as beautiful as a sculpted piece of jade, but if you looked at him his gaze would turn you into stone. Didn’t stop the girls from pursuing him though. He had once borrowed Lan Zhan’s phone to make a call, and that man’s conversation history was filled top to bottom with thirsty girls in his DMs. All the messages were ignored of course, the only messages being replied to being his brother, Lan Qiren and of course Wei Ying.

 He had been thrilled, bragging about it to Jiang Cheng (‘I don’t care.’) and Wen Ning (‘Oh good for you!’) before adding a bunch of heart kaomojis next to his name in Lan Zhan’s phone. Surprisingly Lan Zhan hadn’t changed it since then. 

 Soon it was lunchtime and as usual they would eat lunch together under the sycamore tree outside. It was always their spot, since this tree had the exact right amount of shade and sometimes this wild rabbit would come into the garden. Lan Zhan would leave behind bits of carrot, trying hard to win its trust. Wei Ying thought it was cute, so they had been sitting out there everyday for the past 6 months hoping to catch a glimpse of the furry black rabbit. 

 Today he didn’t feel hungry, deciding to save the lunch Jiang Yanli made for him for another time. Yawning, he wants to ask Lan Zhan to borrow his lap, but after what he read last night it might be too weird.

 Suddenly he hears a giggle behind him. 

 There was a group of girls nearby, who after making eye contact with him quickly whipped their heads back pretending to eat their lunch. 

Usually he would assume they were part of Lan Zhan’s fan club, but now he suspects they had different intentions. 

‘Eat.' Lan Wangji interrupts his thoughts, holding a lotus piece out of his own meal with his chopsticks.

Tearing his eyes away from the girls, he shakes his head. 'No no!' Wei Wuxian flaunters. He can hear the girls muffled squeals, and was that a camera shutter?  'You really don't have to! I'm not that hungry anyway.' 

'Wei Ying.' He fixes him with a disapproving stare, pinning him down with it. Wei Wuxian really doesn’t want to make more fodder for these girls fantasies. He always wanted to be popular with the girls, but not like this.

Reluctantly, he gingerly takes the lotus piece in his mouth from Lan Zhans chopsticks. He’s halfway through chewing before he hears a whisper that on a usual day he wouldn’t have noticed. 

'He's feeding him!! That's so domestic!'

Wei Wuxian chokes on his lotus piece, coughing loudly to Lan Wangji’s alarm. He hits him on the back a few times, until his face returns to its usual colour. 

'Lan Zhan, you really shouldn’t encourage them...' He says weakly. 

‘Hmn?’

‘Never mind…’ 

--

 So, here he was in after school detention again. He had forgotten to submit his homework after being distracted last night and Lan Qiren had given him a verbal beating for it. Luckily the teacher had refused to give up his afterschool hours to supervise and trusted Lan Zhan who had volunteered to watch over him instead.

Lan Zhan had silently joined him at his desk, quietly reading some novel as Wei Wuxian mulled over a math problem. To be honest, he couldn't concentrate; his mind was always drifting to the fan website. As much as he was disturbed by its existence, he couldn’t deny how much he had enjoyed that one story he had read. Was there an update yet? Chancing it, he brings out his phone behind his textbook to refresh the page.

To his shock, the fic's view count had increased by a few hundred from last night. There were a couple of new comments too and he scrolls down to read them. 

 Swordbois172

 This update was so good!! I can really feel the love between them <3333 Such burning passion!

 3000rules

 Actually I saw hanguang-jun and wei wuxian having lunch together today :O they were feeding each other! So domestic.

 BewareofIncenseBurners

 Dude, respect their privacy. Do you really want to get perma banned?

 3000rules

 Shut up, you were there too!! srsly who died and made you mod

 Rabbitsalesperson

 Lol get real if we respected their privacy we wouldn't even be here lol  X___x let's hope they never discover this dumpster fire.

 >Comment Removed<

 >Comment Removed<

  WenNing

 What a great chapter!

 Wait. Wen Ning?! What was Wen Ning doing in the comment section? Also, who uses their real name on the internet?

 'Wei Ying. Pay attention.'

 He jumps in his seat, guilty that he had been caught reading about them in front of the person himself.

 'Aww but it's so boring! I can't concentrate.'

 'You were on your phone.'

 'I, well, started reading something recently. A novel.' He says, settling for a half lie. I mean fanfiction counts as a novel, right?

 Lan Wangji's eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head to look at Wei Wuxian's phone.

 'No!'

 He  almost throws the phone out the window in his rush to turn it off. Lan Zhan looks at him, bewildered.

 'Sorry! I was lying, it was porn.'

 Lan Wangji blinks at him before settling into a deadpan expression. Rolling his eyes, he  goes back to his book.

This scene felt familiar.

 'Lan Zhan. Lan Zhaan. I'm sorry, I'll work diligently.' He whines, genuinely apologetic. 'I know you waited here for me to keep me company when you could've just gone home.' 

 His best friend's golden eyes soften just a tad.

 'If you understand, finish your work quickly.'

 'Okay!'

 ---

 They’re having another one of their movie nights, watching some drama at Wei Wuxian’s place. He had his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder, trying to fight sleep that was overcoming him. 

His mind was drifting over to that cave scene in the story, and he tries to picture his best friend in white robes and an elegant headband playing the guqin. Lan Zhan was pretty enough so it would probably work. The one thing he couldn’t picture though was what the song he sang to the Wei Ying in the fanfiction sounded like. 

Actually he wasn’t sure what Lan Zhan’s singing voice sounded like at all. He had always shot down his invitations for karaoke, but that was most likely because his other friends were there too. 

 ‘Hey, Lan Zhan. I’ve never heard you sing.’ He really wanted to hear it now. 

 ‘...’

 ‘C’mon singgg for meeeeeee~ Your voice probably sounds like one of an angel, and I would have never known! We could make your c-pop idol debut!’

 ‘No.’

 He pouts, ‘Okay fine, you probably sound like a dying rat anyway.’ 

 ‘...’

 ‘Hmmn then again Lan Zhan is so perfect at everything, I bet you’d sound good even as a rat.’ Wei Wuxian murmurs sleepily. He slips off his shoulder to lean into Lan Zhan’s lap. Lan Wangji adjusts himself so they were in a more comfortable position. 

‘Don’t forget me when you’re famous okay? I could even be your backing instrumental. We could go to the same university, join the same company, live in the same apartment....’

 He thinks he can see Lan Zhan nod slightly from his shuttering vision. 

 ‘Even buried together in the same grave!’ Wei Wuxian jokes, a smile stretched across his face. He could imagine the field day those girls would have if they could hear him now.

But he’s glad that it was just the two of them, in Wei Ying’s little room with no one to take photos or question his relationship with Lan Zhan. I mean he’s seen k-pop compilations of the members doing way more affectionate stuff than what he was doing right now. Jiang Cheng totally had it all wrong, since he hadn’t experienced the magic of true friendship. 

 ‘We’ll stay together forever, yeah?’ 

 ‘Mn.’ Lan Wangji responds, carding his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s hair. 

 He laughs a little, grateful at having someone like him in his life. Yawning, he falls asleep on Lan Zhan’s lap, just like that. 

#the untamed #wangxian #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 24 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: I’m a shooting star leaping through the skies like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity. Don’t stop me now. Also, y’all can thank the Jewish holidays for giving me so much free time to write. This chapter was written in collaboration with @ramibaby​. My dear, thank you for sacrificing your fics for this chapter. You are a champion. 

Word Count: Laughs nervously.

Warnings: There’s smut. Also, I’m kind of making fun of fanfics in this one, which means I’m making fun of myself, mostly, so please, fellow writer - do not take this seriously. This is pure fun. If you’re confused by this statement, just read the chapter and your issues will be resolved. 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3,  Chapter 4,  Chapter 5,  Chapter 6,  Chapter 7,  Chapter 8,  Chapter 9,  Chapter 10,  Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15 , Chapter 16 , Chapter 17 , Chapter 18 , Chapter 19 , Chapter 20 , Chapter 21 , Chapter 22 , Chapter 23

“Bullocks.”

“I’m telling you, Jamie. They hated it.”

“Sweet Clara,” Jamie shook his head and pursed his lips, “they’re lying. At least one of them is.”

“Who’s lying?” Annie startled them both.

“You are.” Jamie said, tongue in cheek.

“Enlighten me.” Annie crossed her arms.

“We’ve kissed, what, trillions of times?” Jamie asked. “Not one of them was like kissing a croc. Or an eel.”

“How do you even know -”

“The Snitcher here told me all about it.” Jamie patted Clara’s head. “Anyways, someone’s lying.”

Annie took a deep breath.

“Well, then?” Jamie tapped his foot as he waited for Annie to either tear him a new asshole or come clean. “Which one is it?”

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad.” Annie said, looking at the ground.

“Oh, no…” Clara took a step back while Jamie lifted his closed fist and released it, dropping an invisible mic. “Annie, what are you saying?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Annie shrugged. “Did I make a whole show of it to get you knuckleheads to stop? Yes. But so did Joe.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, the plot thickens!” Jamie leered.

“Fuck off, Jamie.” Annie shot back. “Look, did I like the way Joe kissed me? No. Not really. He’s too gentle.”

“But?” Clara prodded on.

“But it wasn’t as horrible as we both said it was.” Annie said casually. “Will I do it again now that I know what it’s like? Nope.”

“Jamie?” Clara looked at the tall redhead.

Jamie squinted suspiciously at Annie, scrutinizing her from head to toe.

“She’s telling the truth.”

###

“How many more of these do we have left?” Ben rubbed his face with both hands and threw his head back against the back of the sofa he, Gwilym, Rami and Joe were crammed in since the morning. “If I have to answer the same bloody questions again…”

They finally got a break. Gwilym decided to go stretch his legs a bit and Rami went out for a smoke, leaving Ben and Joe alone in the room.

“I know, right?” Joe grumbled.

“Can I ask you something?” Ben removed his hands and turned his head to look at Joe.

“Shoot.”

“You liked kissing her, didn’t you?”

“Look, Ben, I don’t want to hurt your feelings…”

“So, you did.”

“It wasn’t as horrible as we made it seem, no.” Joe started. “But I didn’t like the way she kissed me, man.”

“What?”

“She’s too aggressive.” Joe shrugged. “The lip biting thing? I don’t like it.”

“Wait -”

“I mean, she’s not a bad kisser at all.” Joe rephrased. “Very... passionate.”

“Huh.”

“Just a bit too much for my liking.”

“Good. That’s good.” Ben straightened up. “So it won’t happen again?”

“No.” Joe smiled. “Although, her kiss did make me wonder what your sex life is like.”

“Amazing, actually.”

###

Annie stared at her phone, scratching her head in confusion. After looking through her texts while Ben filled the car with petrol, she had half a mind to pay someone to build a flying saucer for her and her family leave this planet forever.

“What’s wrong?” Ben said as he put on his seat-belt.

“The world.”

“Uh?”

“There’s people out there pining over Clara and me. Like, romantically.”

“Come again?” Ben adjusted the rear view mirror and smiled when Rory’s reflection appeared. “What are you on about?”

“They call us Clannie, Ben.”

“What?”

“They’re writing stories about Clara and me as a couple. Graphic stuff.”

“Can you send me a link to one of them?” Ben smirked.

“No!” Annie shuddered. “You sick, sick man!”

“Could be hot.” He shrugged.

“So could the stories about you, Gwilly and Joe.” Annie smirked back.

“What, like Gwil and me, Joe and me, and Gwil and Joe?”

“No, no,” Annie stifled a chuckle. “All three of you at once.”

Ben blinked, staring at the road ahead.

“Da!”

“Yeah, baby?” Ben replied instinctively, before slamming his foot on the breaks. “Did she just call me Da?”

“She’s six months old, I’m not sure babies start talking at that age.”

“She called me Da.” Ben insisted.

“She’s a babbling blob, Ben.” Annie rolled her eyes. “She didn’t call you Da.”

“She said her first word and it was Da.”

“Ben, you’re being irrational.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Da! Ba! Bfffffffffff!” Rory continued.

“I know, Rory,” Annie turned around in her seat, “but doing press interviews can make anyone hear things.”

“Sssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“You’re absolutely right.” Annie replied. “But we love him anyways.”

###

If there’s one thing Annie hated the most about promoting season two of Greensleeves, it’s doing the interviews and late-night talk shows. Same questions, different people. It got tiresome. She managed to play the “Baby Card” more times than she’d expected... Until the producers realised what she was doing and the proverbial party was officially over.

“So, is the cast really that close?” Jason, the host, asked Clara and Annie.

“Some are closer than others.” Annie replied, surprisingly diplomatically. “Jamie and I have known each other before and Clara and I basically grew up together, so that was inevitable.”

“The previous George Boleyn was alright, I suppose. He didn’t last too long, though.” Clara chimed in. “But the new guy? We love Mike.”

“Oh yeah, he fit right in.” Annie smiled. “As far as the older cast members - we look up to them, but we don’t share our nonsense with them too much.”

“What about Jane Seymour’s character?” Jason asked.

“Well, we haven’t met her yet.” Annie confessed. “The production team’s goal was for art to truly imitate life and they want my reaction to be as genuine as possible. We haven’t filmed the part she comes into the picture just yet.”

“We don’t even know who she is, to be honest.” Clara added.

“I suspect someone messed up and forgot to cast a Jane, really.” Annie shrugged.

“Careful, there, Annabelle.” Jason chuckled. “Keep calling the production team out like that and you’ll end up fired.”

“I’ll be beheaded either way.”

“And what a glorious sight it will be.” Clara cheekily teased her.

“You two seem to have an amazing bond.” Jason admitted. “Do you ever fight?”

“All couples do.” Clara answered and Jason audibly gasped. “We don’t like to be too public about our tiffs.”

“Clara, you blithering fool…” Annie smacked her own forehead dramatically.

“Well, since you ladies brought it up -”

“Not this lady.” Annie muttered, pointing at herself.

“- what exactly is Clannie? I assume you’ve heard the term before.”

Clara and Annie exchanged amused smiles and sighed simultaneously.

“The bane of my existence.” Annie replied.

“Basically, I stumbled upon it the other day after a fan sent me a private message on Instagram, saying there’s an actual hashtag people use when they talk about Annie and I.”

“Sounds innocent enough.” Jason shrugged.

“Oh, you dirty, dirty man.” Clara joked. “You know damn well where this is going.”

“You seem to be enjoying this!” Jason laughed.

“Believe me, she loves every bloody minute of it.” Annie chimed in.

“Right, so as I snooped around I found that Clannie is like a code name for Annie and I as a couple.”

“Aha.”

“And the more I delved in, the more entertaining it got. People are writing some pretty wild fanfiction stories about us.”

“Is it really all fiction?” Jason asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’ll look at the screen here,” Jason turned back a little where a huge image behind the scenes of Greensleeves appeared. It was one of Annie licking cake off Clara’s face, “the show’s Instagram page is like fodder for the Clannie enthusiasts.”

“Oh my God, I forgot about that!” Annie burst out laughing. “It was Clara’s birthday! Season one! Jamie took this picture, actually. Right after I smashed Clara’s face into that cake.”

“It’s tradition.” Clara explained. “The cake licking part was definitely improvised.”

###

“Ben?”

“In here!”

Annie followed the sound of Ben’s voice and found him in the living room, folding laundry while watching whatever was on the telly.

“I am absolutely shattered.” Annie wrapped her hands around Ben’s waist and looked up at him. “Longest day in my entire life.”

“Likewise.” Ben murmured and kissed her. “Just got home a couple of hours ago. When I picked Rory up from my mum’s she was already asleep.”

“God, I wish I could be her for a day.”

“Yeah? Want me to give you baths and carry you in my arms and nibble on your little bum after I change your nappy?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “Just say the word. Also Joe and Gwil shot a weird little bit today when they read what Tumblr users said about the movie and cast and do people not wank anymore?”

“I, uh…” Annie was at a loss for words.

“How was your day?”

“If I have to hear about Clannie again I will definitely clock someone.” Annie released her grip on Ben and collapsed on the sofa. “Why are people so obsessed with this?”

“Two hot birds doing naughty things?” Ben shrugged. “I can see the appeal of it.”

“Ben, no.”

“Don’t be such a prude, now, love.” He put the last item of folded clothing in the hamper and flopped down next to Annie, his hand trailing up her thigh.

“Ben…”

“I missed you, alright?” his fingers poked their way under the waistband of her leggings. “I can’t stop missing you.”

“Ben, seriously, I’m so tired.” She grumped as he slid off the sofa and positioned himself in front of her, nudging her legs open. “I missed you too but -”

“Let me do all the work.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes as his hands gripped her waistband again. He looked up at Annie with his best puppy dog eyes and waited for her consent. With a sigh, she lifted her bum up, letting Ben pull her leggings and knickers down in one swift motion. “Good girl.”

###

When Ben’s phone rang for the fifth time and Gwilym’s name showed up on the screen yet again, he knew something was either horribly wrong or that Gwilym is drunk and emotional. Glancing at Annie, they both sighed in resignation before taking the FaceTime call.

“Have you been drinking?” Annie asked when Clara showed up on the screen. “What kind of fuckery is this?”

“We found a good story and we just had to share, alright? Calm your tits, Annie. It’s not a Clannie.” Clara rolled her eyes. “Why won’t Joe pick up?”

“I just texted him to pick up.” Ben shoved the screen into view. “As his husband, he’ll surely listen to me.”

“Bugger off!” Gwil turned his phone around and flipped him the bird.

“Why have I been summoned?” Joe asked, his face appearing on the screen.

“Well, we have a treat for you!” Clara practically sang.

“A treat?”

“Yours socks are going to fly right off, mate.” Gwil added as Clara pulled the story up on her phone. “You’re not ready for this.”

With a devilish smile to the camera, Clara cleared her throat and began.

“’Joe…?’ Ben croaked, eyes still closed, brow low and fingers wrapped firmly around his length over his jeans.” Clara started reading.

“Off to a good start.” Annie teased.

“It gets better.” Clara commented. “Right, where was I? Ah. There.” She snickered. “Suddenly, his eyes shot open and they landed on you once again; glassy and dazed they were as he stared you down, stroking himself with more purpose. He looked at you with such focus and intent, it was as though he was about to devour you whole. You looked at him with such longing, it was as though you were about to let him. ‘Undress… h-her.’ His words came out in a strangled whine and he bit his lip, looking over your body expectantly as Joe wordlessly obliged.” Clara raised her eyes from the screen and huffed. “Gwil, stop smiling like that!”

“What in the bloody hell is this?” Ben was visibly annoyed. “I do not whine. Annie, tell them I don’t whine!”

“He really doesn’t.” Annie nodded. “But Joe doing everything Ben says? That person hit the nail on the head right there.”

“Hey!” Joe’s brows knotted. “I don’t do everything he says!”

“But you do.” Ben and Annie choired.

“Shut up, you two-headed-monster.”

“People, can we please focus on the important stuff? There’s more to read here.” Clara scolded them. “Let’s see… Oh, this is good! Your nerves grew as a pair of warm hands rounded your shoulders from behind. Joe must have felt you tense up a little as he leaned down to murmur in your ear, ‘Alright, Y/N?’ The ghost of his words made you shiver on their way past.”

“Who the fuck is Whyanne?” Ben interrupted.

“Sounds like some hillbilly from a West Virginian trailer park with a potato gun and a cousin with missing teeth.” Joe added.

“What?” Clara was visibly confused.

“Who’s Whyanne and why did I tell Joe to undress her? This makes no bloody sense.”

“It’s written as Y-slash-N, you knobs.” Gwil explained. “Carry on, doll.”

“Anyways.” Clara continued. “You smiled at his redundant question - of course you weren’t.”

“I don’t like where this is going.” Joe commented. “Sounds a bit rapey.”

“Just let me finish!” Clara groaned. “You were certain your panties were soaked through at the mere sight of them - a fact you felt too compelling to keep to yourself. With that in mind, you shook your head slowly from side to side, eyes still on Ben before you, your chest inflating as you drew in a deep breath. Ben shot you a confused look, concerned you were having second thoughts.”

“Yeah, this is definitely rapey.” Joe concluded.

“Joe, if you won’t let her finish a bloody paragraph, so help me God…” Annie threatened, clearly invested in the story.

“Thank you, Banana!” Clara put a hand over her heart with a grateful smile. “Wait I lost my spot again… duh-duh-duh… there it is!” She smiled triumphantly. “Here we go. Hold on to your manties, gentlemen, this is about to get steamy.” She took a deep breath and got into character. “‘No,’ you breathed, tilting your head back to look at Joe. You reached a hand up to cup his jaw as he looked down at you, a look of worry overtaking his soft features.”

“My features aren’t soft.” Joe muttered. “They’re manly and feral.”

“Of course they are, bub.” Annie reassured him.

“Guys! Come on!” Clara snapped her fingers at the camera. “Focus!”

“Sorry.” Annie said sheepishly.

“’I’m so fucking wet and…”

“Whoa, whoa!” Ben cut her off. “Gwilym, control your woman!”

“She’s reading the story, you saggy tit.” Gwil explained.

“Joe emitted a soft whine -” Clara paused, knowing an interruption is due. “Joe, sweetheart, this sounds like something you’d do, don’t even think about denying it.” She pointed at the camera. “- Joe emitted a soft whine and his expression shifted; his eyes dark and nostrils flaring as his grip on your shoulders tightened. Pushing your ass back against his crotch, you disclosed, ‘…I think I’ve ruined my favourite…” Clara burst out laughing. “Sorry. ‘I’ve ruined my favourite -” the pitch in her voice rose ten octaves at the last syllable as she tried to stop laughing like a madwoman. “My favourite…” Clara was absolutely wheezing. She tried to finish the sentence, but all that came out of her was a screechy, “laaaaaace-pannnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeee”.

“What?” Ben looked at Annie in utter bewilderment. Annie shrugged in response.

“What was that last part?” Joe scratched his head as he tried to make sense of Clara’s incoherent shrieking.

“Lace panties.” Gwilym’s voice saved the day and translated his hysterical girlfriend’s nonsensical mumbling. “She ruined her favourite lace panties.”

“Oh.” Joe, Ben and Annie choired.

“Clara, compose yourself.” Gwil chuckled as she physically doubled over, tears running down, her laughter leaving her breathless. Moving to sit next to her and switch to the front camera on his device, he took Clara’s phone from her. “Right, guess I’m going to take charge now. You furrowed your brow, your mouth ajar as you began to slowly grind against him, your hand never leaving the side of his face as his eyes bore into yours.” Gwilym paused. “Seems anatomically impossible if her back is against you unless you have a freakishly long neck.”

“I thought she was looking at Ben?” Joe asked.

“She’s clearly looking at you, Joe.” Annie quipped.

“Joe tried to keep his composure - to play along in the same teasingly innocent tone as yours, but the feeling of you moving against him must have been a little to much to bear as he stuttered ‘oh n-no…” Gwilym snorted. “Wow Joe, got a little excited there, hm? His hands trailed down your waist before resting on your hips. He held onto them tight as he pushed his clothed hard on against you with such force you drew in a deep breath.”

“Oh, wow.” Annie leaned back, her eyes wide. “The power of Joe’s boner really got her there.”

“His voice was low as he murmured, ‘surely we can - ugh,” he licked his bottom lip, eyes closing a moment as you felt his cock twitch against your ass - he was just as worked up as you.” Gwilym paused there, mulling over what he had just read aloud. “Joe, whoever wrote this seems to think you have a speech impediment.”

“Right?!” Joe asked, “Why do I keep stuttering?! I’m the most charismatic one!”

“Anyways.” Gwilym said, ignoring Joe’s last comment. “His eyes fluttered open and he continued, ‘surely we can make it up to you’. ‘I’d like that Joey…’ you smiled.”

Joe, Ben and Annie waited, not sure if that was it or if there’s more to the story. After a minute of Clara’s heaving and the rest sitting in silence, Annie finally spoke.

“To be fair,” she looked at Ben, “if it weren’t for the lace panties, I’d be willing to bet cold hard cash that Gwil wrote that for himself to read.”

###

“Hey, Joe! I bought something for you to take on your tour!” Annie beamed mischievously.

It was the night the guys - minus Ben - were leaving for the press tour and Annie went out on a whim earlier that day and decided to tease Joe in the best way she could possibly imagine.

“Well? What is it?” Joe asked impatiently.

They were all gathered at Annie and Ben’s, from which the car to the airport was picking the rest of the guys up. Ben was mopey and miserable, a stark contrast to Annie’s cheeriness.

“Close your eyes.” Annie drawled.

“I’d rather keep them open, actually.”

“Alright then.” Annie shrugged and left the room to fetch Joe’s present. She returned with a life-sized cardboard cutout of Ben. “Ta-daaa!”

“I love it!” Joe gushed and rushed over to her, taking the present and looking it over. “What’s his name?”

“I call him Ben Cardy.” Annie said proudly. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh Ben!” Joe’s smile was so wide, his face could split in half. “It’s like you’ll be with us after all!”

###

Ben was staring at his phone intently, his hand lazily palming his crotch. He knew he shouldn’t have done that. He should not have gone down the Clannie rabbit-hole. But Annie was away at work, Rory was napping, and he just felt compelled to at least give it a look. He almost hung from the bedroom ceiling fan when Annie cleared her throat, announcing her presence. He dropped his phone with a yelp.

“Jesus, Annie!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Annie choked back a chuckle. “Also, surprise!”

“Why are you home?” Ben fumbled for his phone.

“Well, this is not what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Sorry, I mean -”

“I can leave if you want me to.” Annie suggested.

“What? No. Shut up.” Ben rambled. “Why are you home so early?”

“I figured you’d be sad and lonely now that the guys are away and decided to surprise you and come home early.” Annie shrugged. “Clearly, this isn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“Christ. I’m sorry.” Ben’s face was beet-red. “I’m happy you’re home, obviously.”

“What do you have there?”

“Nothing.” Ben powered the screen off and tossed his phone aside. “C’mere.”

“No, there’s definitely something.” Annie stepped back and shook her head. “Was that porn?”

Ben had only a split second to think about a satisfactory answer that wasn’t also a total lie.

“Yes.”

“Well, that explains the tent you’re sporting.” Annie smirked. “Were you just getting started?”

“Uh.” Ben furrowed his brows.

“Alright. What’s up?” Annie pointed at Ben’s crotch. “Other than that.”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Shame flashed in Ben’s eyes. “Just regular porn, y’know.”

“Ben.”

“Annie.”

“Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Are you…” Annie grimaced. “Are you sexting someone?”

“What? No!”

“You’re hiding something.”

“Annie, just let it go.”

“Fuck off. Give me the phone.”

Ben bit his bottom lip as he contemplated his next course of action. Either he tells Annie what’s on his phone, or he tries to distract her long enough for her to forget about it. When Annie lunged forward and made grabby-hands at his phone, his instincts kicked in. He physically blocked her.

“Annie, stop.”

“What the fuck!”

“It’s a Clannie story, alright?!” he almost growled at her. “There. Now you know.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Ben, that’s…” Annie struggled to find the proper adjective.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Ben looked mortified. “I was bored and lonely. It’s horrible.”

“Then why are you hard?”

“Because it turns me on.”

“I’m confused.”

“Look, it’s not Hemingway, alright?” Ben groaned. “But the stuff this person wrote? The mental image I have planted in my brain now?”

“Good Lord.”

“Just come here. Listen.”

“Have you gone utterly bonkers, Jones?”

“Seriously. Come here.” He patted the empty space on the bed next to him.

Muttering to herself, Annie did as asked and snuggled up to her boyfriend.

“Right, so I’m skipping the beginning because that was just all kinds of blah.” Ben’s voice had an animated quality to it as he scrolled. “There. Listen.”

“You’re awful.” Annie mumbled. “This is domestic abuse.”

“Shut up.” Ben got comfortable and began. “’I’ve never been with a woman before…’ Clara confessed shyly, avoiding Annie’s piercing gaze.”

“Starting off with a lie, I see.” Annie scoffed and rolled her eyes, trying to stop Ben from reading any further.

“Annie simply smiled at how bashful Clara had become. Reaching out, Annie tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Clara’s ear. Clara leaned into it smiling softly as her eyes met Annie’s once again. ‘Would you like to?’ Annie asked boldly -”

“Alright, stop right there.” Annie sat up straighter. “I am sick and tired of everyone feeling like Clara is this sweet, innocent, baby angel all the time and I’m some she-devil, maneater, sex-crazed banshee.”

“You were cast as Anne Boleyn for a reason, love.”

“That’s besides the point! Clara is a filthy, naughty little elf!”

“Right. Anyhow.” Ben cleared his throat. “‘Would you like to?’ Annie asked boldly sitting up on her heels so their faces were only inches apart. She could feel Clara’s warm breath ghost her cheeks as she replied quietly, ‘yes.’”

Ben paused and waited for Annie’s outraged reaction.

“No comment?” He asked, genuinely surprised.

“Nope. You know, with me being such a bloody whore and enticing sweet blondes into sex all the time and whatnot. Carry on.”

“I mean, where’s the lie, though?”

“In case you forgot, you kissed me on our first date. And convinced me to have unprotected sex.”

“You should thank me for it.” Ben booped Annie’s nose with his finger. “Gave us Rory.”

“Goddamn it. You’re right.”

“Let me just find where I was when you so rudely interrupted me and scared the shit out of me…” he scrolled through the story. “There. ‘Fuck Clara, so good!’ Annie moaned, bare chest heaving as she grasped at the bed sheets beneath her. For someone who had never been with a woman before, Clara certainly knew how to use her tongue in a way that had Annie screaming in delight.”

“This? This makes you horny?” Annie snorted.

“Shut up.” Ben kept scrolling. “Oh, this bit is juicy. ‘Thought about this for so long.’ Annie breathed, her fingers parting Clara’s slick folds and spreading her wetness around. Slick folds?” Ben blinked at the screen.

“My ears feel like they’ve been sexually assaulted.”

“Slick folds. Okay.” Ben took a second to recover. “Hmmm… ‘Thought about what your sweet voice would sound like moaning my name.” Annie continued. Clara’s breath hitched and hips jerked as Annie began lazily circling her engorged clit -”

“Oh my God that’s not even remotely sexy.” Annie covered her mouth with her hand. “Engorged clit?!”

“-’Fuck, Annie, make me cum!’ Clara almost sobbed.”

“Alright, stop. I’m the one almost sobbing.” Annie looked up at Ben as if she’d seen a ghost. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know, but my cock is throbbing.”

###

“Do you two even realise what you’ve done?” Greensleeves’ executive producers were beyond livid. “The fans are furious!”

“They’re furious?!” Annie barked back. “Did you even see the utter shit that’s out there?!”

“It’s not that bad.” Clara shrugged. “Some of it’s pretty good.”

“Clara, if you don’t zip it -” Annie muttered, clenching her fists.

“Ben seemed to like it.” Clara blurted out in anger.

“Oh?” Jamie’s ears perked up. “Our little Benny Boy wants to see his girl get it on with her best friend?”

“Stay out of it, James.” If looks could kill, Jamie would be dead, resurrected and killed again, for good measure.

“Not a chance, Annabelle.”

“You imbeciles need to stop being so rude to our fans.” The executive leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, pointing at the trio. “If they want to write porn about the three of you, you shut up and look the other way. You don’t go on national television and bitch about it!” he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m guessing Ben won’t be into any Jannie stories, then?” Jamie quipped and earned a slap to the back of his head. “Ow!”

“Any publicity is good publicity?” Clara asked timidly.

“I mean, some of our fans loved our honesty. They’re all about Team Clannie now.” Annie said.

“Yeah, and some of them are planning to assassinate you for being evil enough to seduce Ben Hardy and Gwilym Lee with your witch-magic superpowers.” Mike finally spoke. “You two are in for some serious rounds of online shit-talking, ladies. Enjoy.”

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[the-muses-are-herd]

From Road Rovers: Blitz, Hunter, Exile, Shag and Colleen.

This should be interesting. *cracks fingers* 

5. Colleen. Let’s make one thing clear, though. I do NOT dislike her. I do NOT think that she was the worst. No, rather I feel that the problem with Colleen is that she was designed to be “the one girl”, a strategy that’s fell more and more out of fashion in this kind of action shows (and thank god. Give us more and more female characters in these teams). As such, she often had this issue where she was to be simultaneously pugnacious and juussstt ‘girly’ enough. The end result is that she could be downright unpleasant at times (to be fair, everybody else in the team was pretty annoying sometimes, too). Despite this, though, I would love to see what she might be like in a better reboot, for example. 

4. Shag. On the one hand, there’s a lot to like about the pacifist on the team and about his being more or less mute by the others’ standards. Unfortunately, the show insisted on treating both of those as purely comedic —the theme song even calls him a coward and rather than finding a way for him to communicate with others, he was given this cartoon thing where he makes incoherent sounds that the others can apparently understand if the plot says they must. He, too, could use a good reboot. 

3. Hunter. This one I’m often kind of conflicted about? He’s the most generic of the bunch and it often felt like the writers basically wanted him to be Bugs Bunny but also like… any big-name superhero (Superman, Captain America, Mr. Incredible (*), whatever…), only not *too* heroic. And to be honest, while I like big friendly guys, this particular kind of goofy doesn’t do much for me. But what saves him for me is that he genuinely liked everybody in his team, for good and bad. 

2. Blitz. I have a soft spot for scaredy-cat characters, and another for male characters who love to show off their physique. So yeah, there’s a reason I eventually started playing this character. He was far from perfect —hoo boy was he ever. And honestly, that’s another reason I like him: So much room for improvement, room to play with! 

1. Exile. You might expect Blitz to be here and in terms of the character as-is, he might… but I always felt that Exile actually has more potential. He’s severely overpowered (everybody else on the team has like one super-power and he has like a million) and the show couldn’t quite seem to make up its mind on if he was childish, randy, or a weird mix of both. And the thing is, I like that there are so many elements to play with in his case, so much to choose from and discard. Ideal fanfic fodder, you know?

(*) = yes, I know that came decades later. Whatever. For a good example of how to write this kind of composite character, look at All Might from ‘My Hero Academia’. I mean specifically in that he’s a Superman / Mr. Incredible / Captain America / whatever pastiche that I actually cared about. 

#ask game #road rovers #fandom #mephrum

[sl-walker]

Maybe you’ve done this before, but can you speak to how you came up with all the Blackbirds’ personalities and/or goals? Like what inspired them and such. I think we know the story behind a few, like Raze, but I’m curious about all of them!

Oh gosh.  I probably have in pieces, but I’m totally down with answering it. XD  Thank you for asking it, too!  This’ll get long-ish, so under the cut it goes.  But the easy answer is that all of them actually evolved very organically; aside a few notes, I didn’t really plan any of them.  They just kind of happened in the best way.  But for more detail, read on.

Shiv I stole from a short comic where he was actually fridged at the end on Orto Plutonia.  His habit of writing to his dead brother charmed me and broke my heart, and his own end was just a big ole nope.  Maul needed a sergeant, I wanted Shiv, so I grabbed him.  Even in the short span we saw him in quasi canon, he displayed a dry sense of humor and a quick wit (and some skill at words), so I just built on that limited framework.  He would have had to have been highly trained to be an advanced scout like that, he would have had to have been level headed, and beyond that, he really just grew into his own person organically.  Him wrestling with losing his twin, him having to process that while coping with the burden of leadership, with a new squad on one side and a green CO on the other, all of that just kind of happened as the story went on.

Tally's definitely been my answer to the habit of people writing mean, snarky medics.  I wanted one who was kind to the people in his care, who believed in consent and autonomy.  Beyond the fact that the squad was built around Maul -- who would need someone like Tally if he was ever going to learn how to be a person -- it’s just enjoyable to defy the trope.  Originally, he was going to be older, more along Husk’s relative age, but it was clear right off that he wasn’t.  Of all of them, I think I most end up projecting my ‘politics’ onto him; his open cynicism, his belief in solidarity, his subversiveness and distrust of the establishment.  But Tally, no joke, grabs the reins every single time I write his narrative.  All of the Blackbirds feel really real when I write them, but he’s the one who often surprises me.  I don’t so much think I came up with him as that he ended up with some part of me and then went on to totally do his own damn thing.  And if that sounds crazy, I’d love to see someone else try writing him organically and find a different result.  LOL!  He’s just a really strong personality.

Smarty is a total geek, except not.  Because unlike the stereotypical geek portrayal of like, the 1980s, he had no trouble getting laid.  He wears graffiti on his battlefield armor. He’s skinnier and softer looking than most of the others, but he’s also kinda fearless and badass.  He’s apt to go on and on, but he’s also sharp as hell.  I loved the idea of a clone who self-studied everything because 1.) he was intensely bored on Kamino, and 2.) because he has a genuine, enthusiastic passion for learning.  Like-- honestly, most of the Blackbirds are subversive not just in narrative, but also outside of it, because defying tropes is a lot of fun, narratively.

Castle’s personality is partly because I love engineers.  Scotty from Star Trek is my hero, has been my whole life, and Castle is kind of a sideways homage to him.  His skill and talent at building or repairing things, his steadfastness, but also his occasional struggles understanding what’s going on with people internally speaking.  Scotty’s his own thing entirely -- don’t even get me started there, the Arc of the Wolf can be googled -- but Castle shares some traits with him.  Castle is also a bit more like the clones we see portrayed in canon, which makes him an interesting perspective in this group of odds, ends and eccentricities.

Husk also serves that; of all of them, he is in the mold of Rex and Cody.  I wanted someone who was older and had been around for damn ever, who got the full load of indoctrination, both Mando and Kaminoan, and who would offer a more ‘traditional soldier’ perspective on things.  One thing is absolutely sure, though, is that I never, ever wrote Husker to be villainized because of that.  His view of things -- though it’s evolving now thanks to experience and kinship -- has always been just as legitimate a take as the other Blackbirds and I never wanted him to be portrayed in a bad light because of it.  I also wanted him to be 501st originally because that would be an interesting bridge between Skywalker and the Blackbirds, and an interesting conflict Husk would have to work through.  His personality kinda grew around all that; his fierce love and loyalty to his brothers, his unique place trying to balance who he was raised to be while being surrounded by the other, more subversive Blackbirds.  (He was named in homage to Bill Adama in BSG, too.)

Your boy Misty is kind of the most normal of everyone, honestly.  He’s the one who’s managed to not be traumatized by war, or by their upbringing, or by anything else.  He’s actually incredibly resilient in that regard.  It’s not that he doesn’t feel things deeply, but he seems to have kept from letting those get hooks into his brain, and that’s no small feat in their galaxy.  His genuine love of the water was the first thing I knew about him, and it’s remained kind of a constant in how his personality develops.  His ability to be a fair leader when put to it, but not enjoying the role, for example; his absolute confidence when he is in charge of something like a water rescue.  I’m really looking forward to doing more with him in Year Two and highlighting just how good a specialist he is in that, as well.

Brody was always going to be a slicer, but like the others, his personality just happened over time.  I knew he’d be a bit cynical because he already has more exposure to the wider galaxy than the others, but I didn’t anticipate a lot of the nuances.  Like his idealism finally getting stoked by Radio Anarchy.  That was a lot of fun to see, and brought home that he, too, is a young guy and not immune to hope.  The Llanic arc was a big one for Brody, not only in terms of development, but in terms of his entire life after this.  His mischief at the Viable ad was also a Moment(tm), but if you asked me what his actual defining arc would be, it’d be Llanic, and it happened kinda on its own.

Raze, as I’ve said, ended up being homage to my son; the ADHD, also the introduction of meds and how those made his life easier, also his cuddly nature and kindness and generosity.  His artistic lean, however, is in homage to my oldest kid.  I knew he’d be kind of distractable, never on time to meetings, hyper competent in his field, always down for a hair-pet and someone to snuggle up to, and oddly enough, Raze is the one who doesn’t surprise me often.  LOL!  I guess because I live with his inspiration.  His being ace just-- was.  I didn’t intend it, but it happened; when I was writing the camping fluff back in the day and Tango was lamenting, Raze was just like, “Nah, not interested.’  He’s just a wonderful, positive presence, and while he’s having an awful time with survivor guilt right now, he’s still wonderful.  And I honestly don’t know of anyone who doesn’t love him.

Tango ended up being one of the most complex of the Blackbirds!  Like, there is part of him that is definitely me -- “HDU write about this person I love inaccurately, I’ll just have to do it better than you!!!” -- but most of him is actually not.  Like-- his actually-pretty-inaccurate crush on Maul. LOL!  He loves the idea of being in a relationship with Maul, but doesn’t quite grasp what that would entail realistically?  The crush and literally everything else about Tango happened in the course of the story.  I knew early about his fanfic leanings, but not how he would get there; I knew about his superstitious streak, but not that he would end up slowly losing it piece by piece in favor of something he can control, namely his writing.  His feelings about Rabbit and what happened to Rabbit are more added layers to his complexity.  And while Raze is the teras kasi protege, it’s actually Tango who’s probably a bit more Force sensitive than the norm.  Nothing to Jedi levels, but there’s something there.  His future’s going to be an interesting one.  (And Etah and Adao will be a running thread through the whole series.)

Rabbit was always going to be Rabbit.  I knew his name and Rancor’s before I even wrote the first chapter.  And I knew he wasn’t going to see the end of Year One.  I knew that he and his twin were both brand spanking new, and would therefore have to develop on their own, over time, and they did.  I had no real personality traits in mind for either, beyond their desperate attachment (and in fairness, co-dependency) with one another.  So, he happened.  And I wanted him to be a person, even knowing his fate.  I didn’t want him to be cannon fodder.  I didn’t want the audience to suspect what would eventually happen.  And when the time came, it was absolutely, critically important that when I wrote his end, I was sobbing on my keyboard.  I had to love him, and to do that, I had to write him well.  (And I cried so hard I could barely type, then I cried for hours after, too.)

Rancor is the least developed, but that was by design?  I still don’t know him as well as the others.  I know he’s Rabbit’s twin and some things about him now, as an individual, but Rancor himself has always been defined by his proximity to his twin.  He’s never thought for a second to step out into his own so far as to lose sight of Rabbit, and so he hasn’t.  We get hints of it -- his vote on Bravo-984, his punching a clone in the teeth at the climax of that training mission, his possessiveness and anxiety, his basic quiet competence when put to it -- but it’s only really going to be over time that he gets to figure out who he is.  He’s always going to be Rabbit’s twin, but now he has no real choice about becoming his own person, and we’ll see how that goes.

Thank you again for the ask!  I hope these answers work.

#shiv #tally #castle #husker #brody #smarty #misty #tango #raze #rabbit #rancor #blackbirds: year one #witness me #littlekmac

[yszarin]

see below for thoughts on Web Development

- I am side-eyeing that title so hard 

- “sleeping people don’t need pens” - pens can be used as weaponry! they probably needed them! 

- oh no Melanie this doesn’t sound good. I wanted to find out what happened with her, I said, I was wrong.

- ouch. that’s a very. ouch. god the way you can just hear the air go out of Jon. ow.

- it’s a great performance though! kudos to Lydia and Jonny but. wow my heart.

- welp, shipping fodder for Basira/Melanie, lovely

(- they don’t go out? but there’s only one bed)

- oooh did Melanie kill Jared Hopwowrth? Did Melanie rip out his still beating heart and offer it to him to save Basira? until it’s confirmed otherwise that’s what I’ll be headcanoning

- “he seems it” ... has Basira actually spoken to Martin? this is doing absolutely nothing to dissuade me from my theory that he’s in the Lonely, occasionally phasing in and then out again.

- wait wait, only Martin’s met Peter Lukas? That’s a pretty terrible sign, especially as he was supposed to have introduced himself to Melanie and Basira before - did he just skip out on that? And also this is skirting a bit too close to very unpleasant fanfic territory for comfort.

- I bet Peter Lukas uses loads of emojis, but never quite the right one for the thing he’s saying, and it’s really uncomfortable.

- ... of course he’s been separating the departments

- ...whoosh. Peter disappearing people who don’t even know about it all, that’s pretty rude.

- maybe try phoning Martin? emailing? probably won’t work if he is in the Lonely but at least he would have tried.

- Tim’s fine! he’s kayaking! it’s just a really really long river, okay??? Daisy’s fine! Just, there’s lots of things to kill in the coffin dimension! She’ll be back!

- throwing things out doesn’t help when you spontaneously generate them, Jon.

- ... Jon did you lock the door? that’s a New Different Click - should you have used that lock before?

- I guess “Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London” is a bit of a waste of time when The Archivist really explains it. Still. I miss it.

- oh Greg. this sounds awful.

- ... Annabelle? pale stitches sounds a lot like spiderweb, and, well, her head did need fixing.

- poor guy’s been Webbed.

- ... long strings of gibberish sounds like my approach to naming my accounts

- oh, well, this isn’t a great sign.

- This is starting to sound a little bit Beholding? It doesn’t feel like the first time that something’s seemed Beholding as well as Web, too, what with the contract that keeps the assistants in place. Be interesting to see if there’s more on the Web this season! I assume that web lighter made it out of the House of Wax just fine. 

- Oh dear this is an excellent monster description but also ngggh.

- is he apologising for lack of anything being done, or is his being the first to read it going to add her to his nightmare zoo?

- ... so which child of that spider Carlos Vittery killed managed to get set up on wifi and type his name into the forum? how many spiders does it take to press a computer key? would they find it easier on mobile?

- “I wish I could talk it through with Martin. Or Tim. Or Sasha. Though we never really did that, did we?” why don’t you just incinerate my heart, it’s not like I was using it for anything else (I am, a fair percentage of it is currently wailing about RQG). also. do not like Martin feeling as unreachable as the others.

- Jon you were tired two minutes out of your coma, let alone two days.

#the magnus archives #anyway #sad now