#that's because I just decided I didn't want this excerpt to be all hurt and no comfort

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

It's somehow Wednesday again! Enjoy DFS and FDB trying to comfort LLH during a nightmare.

(You can find more excerpts here.)

A-Fei cut himself off, head whipping around to look at Li Lianhua. “Xiangyi?” All trace of the storm had vanished, leaving only worry in its wake.

Fang Duobing sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong?” 

Li Lianhua’s hand twitched.

Huli Jing whined and shifted to drape herself across Li Lianhua’s knees.

“Where’s the incense?” a-Fei snapped, glancing frantically around the room.

“What?”

“Incense,” a-Fei bit out. “From the parcel. Find it. Now.”

Fang Duobing bit back his demand for details. “On it,” he said instead, yanking the parcel from his robe and tugging at the strings. Damn it, why had he tied them so tightly?

“Xiangyi, it’s alright,” a-Fei said, his gruff voice gentled. He tapped Li Lianhua’s pulse point repeatedly. “You’re in Lotus Tower. You’re safe. It’s time to wake up.”

A nightmare? He should have known. Of course a-Fei would have something for treating them, and of course he wouldn’t have wanted to talk about–

“–No,” Li Lianhua mumbled, “no, don’t–”

“You’re safe, Xiangyi,” a-Fei said more urgently, squeezing his wrist and giving it a shake. You’re free. Now stop fighting and open your eyes!”

Oh, shit, if he was dreaming of whatever happened earlier, and he tried to destroy his heart meridian again–

“–I can’t wake him up,” a-Fei hissed. “Hurry.”

“Understood.” Fuck it. Fang Duobing snapped the string in half and tore the packaging open. Dried herbs spilled on the ground like tears. 

“Don’t do this,” Li Lianhua begged, his voice breaking.

“It’s not real,” a-Fei said, gripping his shoulder, “whatever you’re seeing, you already survived it. It can’t hurt you. Follow my voice and open your eyes.”

Duobing’s fingertips finally bumped something long and thin. “Found it,” he said, jumping to his feet. Fuck, where was the incense burner? He’d stowed it when he’d driven the Lotus Tower here, which meant it was–“The kitchen. Hang on, Xiaohua’er,” he said, sprinting to the front of the Lotus Tower.

Fuck fuck fuck. He yanked cabinet drawers open, feeling around the pots and pans, until–

“–I got it,” he called out, rushing back into the room, shoving the incense stick into the burner as he went. 

A-Fei had shifted to his knees, his dao abandoned on the bed, and had one hand splayed over Xiaohua’s chest, preemptively radiating qi, and the other wrapped around his wrist, fingertips to pulse, hovering close to his lips. “Light it,” he snapped, not taking his eyes from Xiaohua. “Xiangyi,” he murmured, “Lianhua. Xiaohua. I’m here. Xiaobao’s here. No one else. We won’t let anyone hurt you again. It’s a dream, alright? Just a dream. Open your eyes.” 

Fang Duobing shoved some clutter off the nightstand, slammed the burner in the newly cleared space, and fumbled in his robe for his flame stick.

Xiaohua thrashed wildly. “Stop! Please stop!”

Fang Duobing lit the incense, capped the flame stick, tossed it somewhere, and rushed to the bed. “It’s ready!” he said, holding it out to a-Fei.

“Bring it here,” a-Fei said, twisting to the side to make space while still keeping a hand on Xiaohua’s heart. 

Fang Duobing sat on the edge of the bed, against Xiaohua’s hip, hovering the incense burner over Xiaohua’s chest, and tried to waft the fumes closer with his free hand. “Like this?”

 “Let me go,” Xiaohua sobbed, “Please, Shiniang, let me go!!”

Wait, then the healer was his shiniang? Shit, of course, why hadn’t he thought of that before? That would explain everything–

–Why did a-Fei look like he’d just been stabbed? 

“A-Fei?” he whispered.

A-Fei blinked, and the raw devastation on his face turned into cold, consuming rage. “She’s not here. We won’t let her hurt you again.”

Oh. Oh no.

“It’s ok, Xiaohua’er,” Fang Duobing said. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”

A-Fei shot him a look of such abject hatred Fang Duobing was vaguely surprised he didn’t gut him with his dao on the spot.

“Trust me,” Fang Duobing mouthed at him. “We won’t let her sacrifice herself for you. We promise.” He grabbed Xiaohua’s free hand and squeezed it. “You saved her, ok? You’re both safe. No one has to die. You’ve done enough. You can rest now, alright? Just breathe. That’s it. Nice, deep breaths.” 

He stroked Xiaohua’s hand, keeping up a steady stream of encouraging murmurs, until the faint tremors coursing through his arms had stopped, until his breath evened out, until his face had once again gone slack with restful sleep.

Fang Duobing gave Xiaohua’s hand another squeeze, placed it carefully back on top of the blanket, and forced himself to release it. “Sleep well, Xiaohua’er,” he whispered, tucking a flyaway wisp of hair behind Xiaohua’s ear.

A-Fei hadn’t made a sound since Fang Duobing had started speaking, other than the rustle of fabric when he changed position, removed his hand from Li Lianhua’s chest, and slipped back into his earlier post in the corner. 

Maybe his headache was acting up again?

A-Fei looked mostly normal: the dao was back on his lap, his legs were crossed, and he seemed to be meditating again. The only difference from earlier was that now he was holding Li Lianhua’s wrist in both hands, and his head was ever so slightly bowed over it.

He thought back on how gutted and horrified a-Fei had looked when Li Lianhua had shouted his Shiniang’s name. How furious he’d been when Duobing had promised to keep her safe.

There was no way he was as fine as he was pretending to be.

#mysterious lotus casebook #Di feisheng #Fang duobing #Li Lianhua #mlc fic #WIP wednesday #lotus trio #difanghua #sorry LLH #If you saw an earlier version of this that ended after the a-fei being stabbed line #that's because I just decided I didn't want this excerpt to be all hurt and no comfort #so I added the next part too #Enjoy!

[rey-jake-therapist]

Fandom and misogyny (spoiler Endless Nights)

I never cease to be appealed by the way some people will constantly find a way to dogpile on female characters, most often for no valuable reasons.

Take Killala of the Glow, in Endless Nights for example: this morning I woke up reading a post that said, "Dream and Desire used to be best friends, it's so sad they're strangers now, I spent an entire day cursing that BITCH Killala for cheating on Dream and ruining the good relationship he had with his sibling. She did them both so wrong!"

I read Endless Nights entirely (not just the excerpts that circulate online) so my eyes popped out when I read that, a bit like this:

Just because it is, you know.... it's a lie! Or at least, it is one, partially: it's true that Killala dumped Dream for another immortal being - Sto-Oa aka the Sun, no less, - who seduced her that day, but who started this, hmmm? No, not Dream's who didn't do anything wrong this time, it's someone else, search better....

It's THEM, Desire, yeah! They're the one who had fun pushing Killala in Sto-Oa's arms, and who made fun of Dream afterwards and didn't understand why he was upset!

I think maybe people forget how powerful Desire are? They are also the one who, eons later, would canonically cause Nada's infatuation for Dream and probably Dream's for her, because they knew it was forbidden for an Endless to love a mortal and wanted Dream to be caught in the act of wrongdoing...

Also, a bit of context is important here: Killala wasn't Dream's long time queen, she had just met him in her dreams a few days ago. Ok, it doesn't make cheating better, but she said herself to Destiny she wasn't sure she loved Dream yet. And once again, it was Desire who orchestrated the whole thing, as seen in this panel:

I wonder how come it's rarely pointed that he would repeat exactly the same trick eons later with Nada: he made Nada want Dream after she saw him in a dream, then made his lonely brother want Nada, because she wanted him and he was flattered by this attention.

Coming back to the subject, Endless Nights, it seems to me that Desire's intent was ALWAYS to mess with them -Dream and Killala -, because they wanted to have fun at their brother's depends!

And I genuinely believe they didn't think Dream would react so badly: nothing is serious for Desire, who lives only for the moment. How could they imagine it would be so serious for Dream, and that he would hold a grudge for so long?

Let's see a bit of context:

When we meet Killala, she has just met Dream - she tells Desire Dream visited her in a dream "some days ago"- doesn't know him much and isn't even sure she loves him. It doesn't excuse cheating on him, but I think it's fair to assume than it this story, it's more Dream's ego than his heart which was hurt. All he does after catching her in the act is telling the young Sol she will find her way home, and that her new lover will probably transport her. If he's big mad at Killala, he does a really great job at hiding it. At the end of the story, it is said by Sol's son - who tells the story to his own son - that Killala eventually died, but at no point it's suggested that Dream caused her death.

Another interesting fact to put the situation back in its context:

Killala has a little chit-chat with Destiny, Dream's big brother and the oldest of the Endless. He asks her if he loves Dream (she doesn't know, thinks she does) and tells her that "a millennia from now", the Endless will be forbidden to love mortals and that her case in particular will be heavily discussed:

Why though? It's often believed that the drama with Killala caused the "no romance with mortals" rule, but Destiny says it would be decided a millenia after Killala's era so frankly, it's doubtful that her fallout with Dream caused this.

However, it occurred to me that it may be the tension between Dream and Desire, caused by Killala cheating on Dream with Sto-Oa, that was discussed. Think about it: Dream and Desire probably worked together before Desire did that "joke"... After that day, they worked AGAINST each other, or at least Dream looked down on Desire's realms and Desire hated him for it. I don't think that Dream having a failed romance with Killala had any influence on the universe per se, but isn't it very likely that the shift in Desire and Dream's relationship did? 🤔

Another reason could be that Sol, the future sun that would shine on Earth, wanted the not yet created mortal humans to look like Killala, who he found very beautiful.

Who knows if Dream didn't have a negative reaction to this idea, and caused the higher instances to decide that it was better for him and the other Endless to not have romanced with mortal beings who liked the woman who had previously hurt one of them? All speculation of course, since we don't know much about this "no romance with mortals" rule after all, but it's so fun to speculate!

But I digress (bless Tumblr for the absence of text limit!). The subject of my post was the misoginy which Killala of the Glow, among other female characters in The Sandman, were subjected to by a part of the fandom. Don't get me wrong: what she did to Dream was very bad, cheating is wrong! But let's not accuse her of "separating the siblings" while:

1) she was surely under Desire's influence (see the screenshot below: Desire was watching her and Sto-Oa engage in a discussion, smirking),

2) the only one who can fairly be accused of doing that was one of the siblings themselves, Desire, when they decided to make fun of their sibling by humiliating him.

3) Also I'd argue that if Dream was entitled to be angry at his sibling - it was a very bad joke... - he should have moved on after a while.

Fun fact, by the way: Dream was disappointed by Killala's change of heart, but he didn't seem angry at her, and he let her go. He even understood immediately what really happened and Desire's influence! That's why he directly went to Desire after he caught her kissing another man. It was Desire's actions that hurt him, way more than Killala's, because he valued his sibling's affection and considered him his favorite sibling.

But sure, let's blame the blue skinned lady for not being able to resist the manipulations of an immortal being, who's got exactly that kind of power. Let's just do that! 😒

#the sandman meta #fandom sexism #Killala of the Glow #desire of the endless #dream of the endless #endless nights #the sandman spoilers #fandom misogyny

[shady-tavern]

A little poll to help me decide

Just so you know, I will still write both, but you guys get to decide which one gets to be finished and published first!

Little WIP excerpts for both stories under the cut (subject to change, these are still rough outlines, so be aware that the final product might look different):

Fantasy Story (currently only titled "nyeh!"):

You had once heard that being cursed was the worst thing in the world. To be twisted into something else, to no longer be capable, to lose your youthful beauty, your voice or whatever else you valued. To be forced to hide in the dark and stare longingly at people going on about their day.

How happiness was leeched away, food tasting lackluster and smells itching in your nose and nothing felt right anymore. Like looking through cracked glasses.

But curses weren't anything you had to content yourself with. They were about as important to your life as distant kingdoms and great battles with heroes slaying equally great foes, of dragons nesting on top of mountains and fae princes stealing away mortal women to make their queens.

That hadn't always been the case for your family, however. Your ancestors had been great mages and adventurers, people with big names and bigger legacies. People who had awed and charmed and impressed the populous to the point where they were still spoken about, their portraits found in history books.

There was even a portrait of one of your great-great-grandma's in the local library, painted by someone with magical powers, for it looked like she was going to leap straight out of the painting on her horse.

She was a gorgeous woman with a kind face and a brave set to her shoulders and she had protected the entire barony you lived in against an ancient evil. She had been the first to make a name for herself and all her children followed in her footsteps.

Well, until your grandparents and their children. Every time you walked past her portrait on your way to class, you wondered if she was disappointed. If she had known that the greatness in her bloodline would run dry like a river.

Your parents certainly thought so, the bitterness and fear over being mundane well instilled into them by their already magic-less grandparents. Family gatherings were a tense and somber occasion and you hated them. Every time you were asked if your magic had shown already. If you were, finally, at long last, the one to break the streak of misfortune.

As though they could claw their way up to greatness through you. Even at a young age, you realized you didn't want that. Their expectations felt like boulders being strapped to your person and then being told to go climb a mountain.

Looking at the painting, at the regal woman portrayed who had saved so many and had been humble all her life, using her skills to better those around her, you decided that she would not have been disappointed in you.

Sometimes you imagined her voice when you sat curled up at your desk, eyes heavy from studying and your parents voices echoing in your head, telling you to look at more magic tomes. As though they could will magic into your veins by tossing as much spell theory at you as possible.

You imagined that your great-great-grandma would gently pat your head and tell you that it was alright. You had done well and should go to sleep, she'd take care of things. You imagined her saying all the things history books had written down and that bards sang about even to this day.

How she would cradle the week, encourage the cowardly and shelter the injured. 

Your other ancestors were just as impressive, but...she was always seemed more present than they did. It was probably because of the painting, though. You knew your family's history well enough, you had studied everything trice over.

Sometimes it frustrated and hurt you, that your parents and grandparents couldn't just be happy. They had more money than they could ever need, the people still spoke highly of your family and they were welcomed warmly. Your uncle was even advising the king despite having as much magic as a dresser drawer.

"I'll leave when I'm old enough," you told the portrait in a whisper. "I'll go somewhere no one knows me and I'll be happy."

If a painting could look encouraging, this one did. Or, so you imagined.

*.*.*

Hero/Villain Story (currently titled "Heart Song"):

The world was full of music and to you, that was beautiful. Everyone you met was surrounded by a melody, some louder and some quieter, some sad and some joyful, some struggling and changing tunes as they tried to find themselves and others marching forward, no matter the mismatched tones and half-broken sounding lyrics.

It had been a struggle, growing up, to not get lost in the music constantly. Your parents hadn't understood what was going on, dragging you to doctors and trying out different medication, until you had been old enough to find the words, the proper explanation, to tell them how you saw the world. 

A gifted child, your lot were called. People born with abilities that showed as early as when they were infants or sometime late in their adulthood. But the powers always revealed themselves and very, very rarely were not put to use.

You had found yourself responding to melodies that had wanted to be heard and seen and recognized even before you understood what they were, singing back at them clumsily until they had lost a hurt edge, until they had found meaning, until the song surrounding a person's heart rang like clear bells with the sounds of hope-relief-healing.

Becoming a hero had, in a way, been the only sensible conclusion. You wanted to help and you could help, so why wouldn't you? Why wouldn't you help sand down rough edges, help people over a bump in their road, help someone hurting to find the strength to reach out?

Your parents had thankfully been the sensible ones and had cautioned you against accepting just any hero gig, any contract that was extended to you. You had been so excited you had nearly accepted the first offer without question.

But...hero contracts, as you had quickly learned, were rather intense. There was so much red tape surrounding everything and your parents really hadn't liked some of the wording of some of the passages and with great reluctance and perhaps a couple of tears, you had tossed the offers for a job into the trash.

Right up until Redemption & Recovery had reached out to you. They had been a comparatively tiny organization back then, doing their best to help others with the funding they got. Almost all members were volunteers and they offer they extended had, admittedly, looked pitiful compared to the promised salary of the big hero offices.

But their offer had been just what you had looked for. Next to no red tape and your values and their aligned. The moment your parents gave their tentative green light you had called them straight away, telling them you wanted to work with them.

In the years that had followed, you had made quite the name for yourself and the organization, which had grown in members and funding until it was one of the biggest. You were so proud of everyone and their hard work. 

While you had become the face of R&R, fighting and going to interviews and fan meetings and doing your best to be present online, everyone else had been hard at work behind the scenes. Networking and outlining and signing contracts and keeping the unyielding desire to make the world better alive, no matter how big the organization got.

Redemption & Recovery focused heavily on not only offering recovering villains all the tools to keep healing and improving, but they also offered services to the public to help people stay away from the villain business in the first place.

You still didn't have much of a salary compared to other famous heroes, but that worked just fine for you. You rather donated as much as you could feasibly give to R&R, to help finance the services they offered, the therapists and doctors they had on the payroll, as well as housing aid and financial advisors to help people get back on their feet.

You still received offers from the big offices, who hoped to poach you from R&R and the latest offer had you choking on your breakfast when you had seen the salary and other perks they had offered. It had still gone into the trash, because the red-tape situation had been as bad as ever.

Besides, you were perhaps a bit...unique, among the heroes. The big offices would probably find working with you rather headache inducing.

You raced around a corner, heart in your throat at the sound of hurt-terror-helplessness that filled the air ahead of you as thickly as the dust and smoke that had yet to settle. You leapt over rubble and debris, your breath catching when you heard another bit of building crumble somewhere to the left.

And among the injured civilians, the panicked people, one melody rang louder than the others. Loud enough to drench everything in agony-hatred-despair like a wailing siren.

You had heard bits and pieces of this particular melody in the past and you knew exactly who it belonged to. Eclipse, a high-level villain known for laying waste to entire city blocks whenever he appeared. 

He was one of the villains who broke heroes left and right if they weren't strong enough to stand up to him and who had endangered many a civilian carelessly. No death count yet, but he was getting closer and closer to it every time he appeared.

Official sources weren't sure if he even had full control of his powers, considering the often haphazard destruction and his at times visible frustration. Whatever was going on, however, everyone agreed that he needed to be stopped before he ended up killing, no matter if it was intentional or not.

Eclipse's focused face turned into a mask of fear the moment he noticed you from the corner of his eye, head snapping around to stare at you.

#my writing #pol #wip #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #fantasy #stories #you're welcome to vote or not #just thought it might be fun to give you guys the option

[lewis-winters]

here's an excerpt from the Harry Welsh/Kitty Grogan Canon Divergent AU where you have Kitty on the front lines with Harry because I felt like it... and also because I don't think I'll be finishing this this year because of work and... Baldur's Gate 3. Heh.

--

The thing about Kitty is: she hates beating around the damn bush.

It's a by-product of her mother's mind games, she thinks. Nothing quite like weaponized bluntness to incite the Queen of Pennsylvanian Roman Catholic Passive-Aggressiveness into actually spitting out the god-awful truth for once. It might've earned her a slap or two in her younger years, but the second she learned to dodge and run, then later on sneak back into the house through her little brother’s open window, her mother has been powerless against her.

Of course, she tried other tactics after that. "No good boy's going to want you and that smart mouth of yours."

But Kitty found ways to fight those, too. "Lots of good boys like smart mouths, Mama, on account that they belong to smart girls. Not that you'd know, of course."

Her Mama had scoffed and sputtered at the idea, raising a hand out of habit, faltering badly when all Kitty did was laugh in her face and dance right out of her reach, reveling in her impertinence instead of cowering. A year after that, Wel—Harry, with all his smitten smiles and dopey eyes, had dropped into their lives, and suddenly her Mama didn't have much to say at all. What could she, when Harry was everything she'd told Kitty she'd never have and more? Marisa Grogan never did like being proven wrong.

By the time Kitty enlisted and was on the train to basic, neither mother nor daughter had said a single word of substance to each other for nearly a whole year.

Kitty likes to say that the silence didn't hurt. It'd been used as a weapon enough times for her to get used to it, after all. When she was younger, it came intermingled with hunger, too, on account of being sent to bed with no supper every time she was impertinent. Which was a lot. Kitty had joked at dinner the Christmas she'd gotten lucky enough to score a weekend pass, with the part of the family that still wanted to joke with her, that those childhood punishments had done the bulk of preparing her for the inevitable starvation she'll face out on the front. Her Mother had gone sheet-white upon hearing it. It wasn't a surprise that the joke fell flat with her.

She'd tried to talk to Kitty after dinner that same day, though. And Kitty didn't want to hear a single word out her mouth, and had decided to go back to camp a day early, annoyed as all hell that her mother had given up the game so easily. Not the most rational of responses. Her brother, Andrew, had even gone so far as to point out in a letter that she was acting exactly like their mother. Good, Kitty had written back, infuriated enough by the comparison to lash out at her longest ally in this particular fight. Let her have a taste of her own medicine. She can have her chat if I get back.

If. Needlessly cruel. Just to drive the point home. War and all its brutality had been naught but a distant future, then. She still had it in her to be foolish.

After Normandy, Kitty remembers telling Harry; "I don't think I regret it."

Harry had scoffed at her, something akin to disappointment mixed in with his concern. "We lying to each other, now?"

He doesn't like beating around the bush, either. It's what they most like about each other.

Today, the elderly couple at Harry's billet are out to church and won't be back until supper, so it's Harry who answers her incessant knocking. He's clearly expecting someone else. Nix, perhaps, on account of the sour tells of a hangover hovering over him like a cloud, and the curse that's halfway out of his mouth. But when he sees that it's her, he snaps out of it and immediately goes still in surprise. "Sgt. Grogan."

"Lieutenant," she stands at attention in greeting. "We need to talk."

"At ease," Harry says, blinking up at her before rubbing at the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, alright."

He steps aside, and lets her in.

#kitty grogan #harry welsh #harry/kitty #band of brothers #yes I am guilty of making all my characters shoulder the burden of my mommy issues and eldest child syndrome #impertinent eldest child is my favorite kind of eldest child #estrella_marie #also peep my stupid hc that kitty often makes jokes that fall exceptionally flat because either she has tone problems or they're just #a little too barbed #harry thinks she's HILARIOUS though

[brw]

Would Simon and Hank have kids? Like would they adopt do you think? :)

Hmm. Possibly. Hank, certainly, wants kids, and is by large an extremely good influence on young children and really values helping raise and nurture the young mutants at Xavier's whenever we've seen him. It's a complicated thing because Hank doesn't think he should have kids, though, and I think essentially has come to the conclusion that he should never have children of his own, lest he pass on his flaws and mutation on to them. I think this is an extremely difficult thing for Hank to really articulate, and I can see him having struggling to communicate this to Simon, who sort of presents as being mostly apathetic to the idea of children. I mean it's not something he's ever really articulated wanting and he's always seemed slightly uncomfortable at best, and downright antagonistic at worst around kids.

It's more complicated for Simon though than that. What I'm going to do is I'm going to list all the evidence against Simon ever having / being a parental figure to children, and all the evidence towards him being good with kids, and then come to my own conclusion based on these. The tldr is that Simon has a hard time coming to terms with his own upbringing and until he comes to acknowledge this it's something that's always going to affect the conversation around Simon Williams and children.

Simon's first on-panel interaction with a child is in #197 of Avengers V1, and he's portrayed as being uncomfortable, and a little bit pissed of. To be fair to Simon, the woman he's on a double-date with didn't call ahead to say her babysitter cancelled and just decided to bring along her kid rather than miss out, but it's also fair to say Simon is not charmed by this kid at all and doesn't really want to be in this situation.

The next place we're going to see Simon around kids is in the 1991 Wonder Man series, where he vocally hates children. He even uses his alleged dislike of kids as an excuse of why he can't be with his two main love interests of the series, Ginger and Alex.

As Simon says, during this run he reveals that his ionic constitution has left him infertile, a fact he seemingly is taking quite poorly, leading him to take out his frustrations on the kids he does see. I don't think Simon ever really actively wanted kids, but I do imagine it was sort of unspoken but understood growing up that he would marry someone and he would have children to continue on the family legacy back when that was his main focus. I think learning that this is not possible for him really upset him; it's not something he ever seemed to desire, but it was something he considered an option, at least, and now it no longer is.

The thing with Simon is, he also seems to have a really hard time looking back on his childhood, and more specifically coming to terms with the abuse he suffered. When recountung his childhood in the interview excerpts from WM v2 #1-#3, he phrases things in a very neutral way; "they call what he did to me and my brother child abuse". Not "I was abused as a child"; he says that's what they call it, as if someone had said those words to him and he's neutrally repeating them as what he's been told, and not his actual experience as a child growing up.

And for all the growth Simon has shown in recent times, this remains something he very rarely brings up or acknowledges. To this day, he always seems to be holding himself back with Eric, always seems to be offering him an opening to be different. And the thing is, I genuinely think that if Eric hadn't been a supervillain, and lived as a normal guy, Simon would have forgiven him in an instant. He would have never have kept what Eric did to him from having a relationship with him. It's only because Eric is also hurting other people, that other people are seeing his actions and recognising them as being wrong and as being evil, that Simon sees Eric's actions as wrong, imo. Simon puts very little value on his own emotions, his own experiences, his own wants for the most part, and we see that with how much he wants Eric to be good. Simon really struggles to recognise himself as a victim in these contexts and I really think until Simon makes a genuine attempt to acknowledge this, to acknowledge how much these experiences have shaped him and affected his worldview, his relationships, and his thoughts on children, he shouldn't really try and be a parental figure in a child's life. Both for the kid's sake, and his own. Simon needs to trust himself, and that's just something he's not going to do until he's actively worked towards acknowledging this part of him.

But this isn't to say Simon is bad around kids as a whole. Actually, I would say quite the opposite. Before we decided Simon was in love with Wanda the whole time, Simon was a genuinely sweet and good uncle to Billy and Tommy and valued his time in their lives.

In the Ms Marvel series, he's incredibly sweet with Anya Corazon, training with her and showing her all the facilities they have.

And of course, Simon was so good and sweet with Laussa from War of the Realms: Journey into Mystery. He's drawn to be one of the people holding her the most in little group shots. This is probably because he's a pacifist and invulnerable, but it also shows how good he can be with kids, especially babies.

Look at how happy she is to see him! It's very sweet.

So, yeah. I think Simon and Hank could adopt kids or, I dunno, have some weird clone baby if Sinister so desired, and would probably even be really good parents, but I do think for Simon especially there would need to be some kind of reckoning with his past and how that would be a source of conflict for him and being someone who's raising a child. I don't think he even has to go to therapy over it or anything, but if someone was going to write that it would need to be brought up and dealt with in some way, I think. And for Hank, the thing needs to be that a kid looking like him is not the worst fate for a child. He needs to learn and accept this, that the most important thing is for a child to be loved and supported, something he already does in full. He's a good figure in a lot of kids lives, but for kids of his own, he would probably feel incredibly selfish for having children when they will look the way he does, and that's a mentality that would take a while to shift. So my answer, again, is yes, I can see these two being parents, but only after a lot of character development.

#asks #anonymous #abuse #child abuse #ask to tag #wonderbeast #wonder man #simon williams #hank mccoy #i'm sorry for writing this much I feel I went overboard analysing and not. answering ur question. dfsbhfvbhfgbh

[lucidskittler]

"So just let me go, will you??" 

This is the perfect case of when you say something different from what you truly mean. 

She knew what he was thinking even before he'd call on her. How? Because she was thinking it, too, at that moment when she saw Floch aim his gun at them before finally deciding to shoot the plane instead. No, that's not right. She had been thinking about it before that. Was it in the forest? Was it after seeing his bloodied body by the river? No, it was even way before that, to a time when they were yet at war with the world, and their only objective was to eradicate the titans. 

She had realized it early on in their relationship. It was in stolen glances, in their non-stop teasing and bickering, and in their understanding and protectiveness over one another. She had stopped herself on multiple occasions when she almost caved in his touch, in his sweet lingering kisses, and on nights when they kept each other's bed warm. She had known then, at the first time they got lost in each other's eyes, and she'd continue thinking it through the years, but there was never the right time. And now that she had decided to die, what good would come if she said it? Nothing, and so all she could do was keep thinking it--  I love you.

She found that deciding to die and actually pulling it through were two different but equally difficult things. Although she did try to sound confident earlier, she was now wavering. She didn't want to die, and she knew Levi saw right through it. She was already on edge, and she wasn't ready for him to make her stay because she might just heed, and that could only take a turn for the worst. 

Just then, he stopped in front of her, closed his eyes, and took a minute to decide but ultimately, like always, they were on the same page, that the fate of the world comes first. 

He put his hand to her chest, no longer looking her in the eye. "Dedicate your heart."

Dammit. Hange clenched her jaw. Never in her life had she ever wished for something so selfish as she did now. She wanted nothing more than to be with him. At the very least, she hoped they could've had more time, but she shook the thought from her head as quickly as it came and laughed it off. I can't stay. I have to uphold my duty and save humanity.  

"Haha! That's the first time I've heard you say that!" she quips, barely able to look in his direction anymore. It was all too much.

She hooks her gear and pulls herself up. She faces the enemies head-on, clings to the highest building before shooting her grappling hook onto the first titan. As she slashes through its nape, she raises her head to the heavens and watches the sun slowly set to the ground in a fiery glow as it sinks from the horizon linking its fire with the hoard of colossal titan's wrath ahead. Behind her was the plane carrying her family, her love, and all her remaining hope for the world, and she was going to do everything in her power to hold out long enough to ensure their safe departure.

"Ah! Titans are really amazing!" she says, trying to distract herself from the hurt and regrets as she keeps both enemies and heartbreak at bay.

 

See you, Levi.

Excerpt from:

Warm Hues And "I Love You's"

#aot #levihan #chapter 132 #shameless plug #this is my favorite out of all I've ever written #also #i find that I haven't written anything last year i should really work on that #hange #levi

[pokespefangirl]

Specialshipping RedxYellow

Past

April 9th, 2036

---

Ever since Yellow had entered the police academy, her dreams seemed to be reaching farther and farther away from her.

She was running a one hour lap in the hot and summary evening, one that her physical instructor had bid her to do after she had very unsuccessfully taken part in this week's safety drills, throwing up at the very end of it.

Not only that, during physical training she'd fallen from one of her spots while rock-climbing during a crisis simulation, fearing she'd damaged her collarbone.

The instructor had glared at her while she was pulling herself up, at her thin, white and frail figure- And decided she needed some lessons.

So here she was, and she had many more laps left. But she felt challenged. She'd show the instructor she was meant to be here.

She was just feeling her courage plucking up even more alongside her determination- when a rock sent her straight knocking down to the ground, where the gravel met her now bleeding knees.

Had she been younger, her mom would've come running alongside her friends to take care of her wound.

But now here she was alone. Except a shadow was crawling over hers on the ground, right over her surprised face.

Yellow looked up, elbows straightening, only to see presumably the most, most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life.

If she didn't have crushes before on her classmates in the police academy, she was sure to have now.

"Need some help?" The man smiled with the patience and politeness one would expect from someone in the marines, holding out his strong hand.

The police outfit on his body fit him snugly, filled with badges and showing muscles in all the right places.

Yellow's body immediately reeled back, inwardly not wanting to be near someone so handsome.

"I'm Red," the man answered, seemingly taking her flinching as a sign that he needed to give an introduction, "I'm a guest lecturer today, they brought me in to teach the new recruits at the academy."

When that wasn't enough, he elaborated, "Your instructor asked me to get you. Said you'd probably be tired by now and you should come back."

Yellow immediately felt upset, eyebrows furrowing with the anger and determination she often never showed- mostly due to her shyness and fear of standing up to authorities. "I... I'm not tired. Not done yet."

She managed instead, cooling her hurt emotions. After delivering an understanding gaze, the husband man kneeled down next to her, patient.

"I heard about what happened, during one of your training lessons," Red answered, "you shouldn't need to punish yourself.

Everyone fails once in a while."

"Did you?" Yellow asked softly before she could help it. It wasn't her fault, sometimes the emotions she restricted showing just came to the surface. "Fail?" Red laughed, "Oh yeah. I used to be an overconfident prick. Then I failed so much. Failed until I made it," he answered, showing her his tag.

Yellow was filled with relief at that, probably because this man was so handsome and so- fit. Anyway, if someone like him could fail, then- Anyone could.

With that thought, she smiled and rose up, taking the elder man's hand. Only to turn around in shock as she heard a sudden ringing in her ears.

At first she didn't believe it, the alarms in her ears.

"What's happening?"

"I'm not sure," Red answered, shocked- only to be interrupted by the sound of shattering glass, and some screams.

Coming from the main academy building.

"What's happening?" Yellow shrieked, as the school police alarms blared, followed by lights shutting down everywhere.

Darkness followed, but the sounds of chaos increased.

"Intruders with guns," The man answered with a strangely level voice, a change Yellow didn't understand, "That's what it sounds like. Come with me- we need to find somewhere to hide for the time being."

She stared at Red in shock, but the Detective had only taken her hand to take her hiding with him.

Excerpt from a pokespe police au involving all the pokespe characters <3

#specialshipping #pokespe #pokemon #pokemon special #trainer red #trainer yellow #leafpuff writes stuff

[mcalhenwrites]

Hey there! I saw that you've taken down your work, I and I think how public or private a work is is always up to the author to decide, so not here to put pressure on you or anything. I just wanted to let you know that I've really enjoyed a lot of your works! And that I hope you keep writing, whether or not you choose to share or not! Best wishes to you

Hello! "I think how public or private a work is is always up to the author to decide, so not here to put pressure on you or anything." I appreciate this so very much, thank you. I know what it's like to see writing vanish (I've been reading fic for about 20 years now and can tell you that some of my favorite authors and fics are gone for good), but as a writer, I also get why people do it. The loss hurts, but authors have their reasons. And not always the same ones. In my case -and I'm about to get very personal here so feel free to back away quickly - I've been putting my work out on social media to total silence for years. It has to end. I have to learn that it isn't that great, that no one wants to share it with their friends or acknowledge that they enjoyed my work to anyone else. I've tried so many things to get word out, because I wanted to self-publish some of my stuff and make a living around my disabilities (I can't work, I can't even predict if I'm functional in 30 minutes much less consistently for entire days). The financial struggle didn't stop me from sharing works for free, but... Then my confidence kept taking a beating when I posted excerpts, links, etc. on multiple platforms. I don't even want to be online anymore and keep thinking I should delete. The only reason I don't is that it's a hassle to preserve my usernames if I do that. XD Anyway, I figure the flaw is the quality of my writing. I feel embarrassed that I think there's anything worth peddling. I'm trying to cut myself off from attempting in the future, since I always come back thinking I can do this again and it never works. :') I'm still working on my stories. People keep lecturing me that I should only ever write for myself, but I don't do exchanges or ask for votes and requests on what I should write next (nothing wrong with these things btw, it's okay to write for other people actually, I just don't), I have one original story that took off on AO3 (Seasons) and most people ditched it before they finished reading it, my writing was openly mocked in one fandom to the point I stopped posting, and I have posted original works online for 15 years to almost total silence. Who else but myself could I be writing for at that point? I love writing, so I can't see myself quitting it as long as I'm alive. Question is, how long can I do that in a world that doesn't want to help disabled people? I can't even get healthcare rn, they claim they can't verify my identity since I moved states. It's been a mess. And I need healthcare and further testing, because it turns out one of my doctors didn't even take proper notes when she diagnosed me as a child and I basically have to get re-diagnosed. Honestly, the pressure of all that is impacting my writing time, so I'm surprised I've managed to write over 5k since February started. ^^ Anyway, thank you. I wish things would get better. I just don't see it after over a decade of hard work. ;A;

[inmyveinsbookblog]

In My Veins - Excerpt

After everything little Rosie told me her grandmother had told her about what had happened between Charlie and me, I hadn't looked forward to the dinner Anne and I would have to share that evening. I knew it would end up being extremely awkward, only having her and me at the table, since Henry was away and Charlie had chosen to stay away too, still hard at work looking for Charlotte.

The love and kindness Anne had shown me back when Charlie and I fell in love and got married, made the so obvious dislike she now felt toward me even more painful. She once treated me like I was her daughter, but now she couldn't even look at me without a sneer on her face.

It ended up being a very silent meal, since Anne's open hostility toward me, made her entirely unwilling to talk to me. A confrontation between the two of us was clearly needed, but I wasn't about to bring up my and Charlie's private matters while we were surrounded by servants I had no idea if I could trust. So, I ate quietly, while Anne had a nice conversation with the butler.

As soon as the dinner was done, Anne quickly made her way to the small sitting room. Making it more than clear, without even saying a word, that she didn't want me to follow her. I was not about to let her have her way, however, and entered straight behind her. I also made sure to shut the door behind me, so the servants wouldn't come and listen in.

"I was rather hoping to have some time alone." Anne said once she had taken her seat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and she finally noticed that I was in the room with her. With a forced smile on her face, she gestured to the seat next to her on the sofa, and as soon as I had sat down, she spoke again. "But how can I help you?"

"I would very much appreciate it if you would stop telling Rosie lies about me." I decided it was best not to beat around the bush about this, because I doubted the mood in the room would get any better if stuttered and stumbled over my words. Even so, I kept my eyes locked on the roaring fire as I spoke, not feeling brave enough to meet her gaze just yet.

"I haven't lied about anything." She retorted quickly, seemingly having no qualms about keeping her own eyes trained on me. If she was at all shocked by my accusation, it was hard to tell only by the sound of her voice. So I decided to brave it and turned to meet her stare.

"So, Charlie hasn't told you what happened to me during our time apart?" I was sure he hadn't, he could tell how hard it was for me to share it, even with him. And though he might not be too fond of me right now, he still respected me too much to go around sharing my secrets with anyone.

"He hasn't told me anything, he didn't think it was his story to tell." It almost sounded as if she meant her reply to be of comfort to me, but since I knew she had told Rosie I was the one who hurt Charlie, it was a rather cold one.

"But you thought it was your story to make up? I know you want to defend him, but I wasn't the one who hurt him. My father tricked me into believing Charlie died in the war. The letter saying I didn't love Charlie anymore was forged by him too." It seemed that since I was finally brave enough to confront her, and my words had started pouring out of my mouth, there was no stopping them again. "He had a big plan to marry me to the Earl of Dunmore, not even my legal marriage to Charlie was going to stop him. I don't know if he knew how Simon would treat me, but I highly doubt he cared that he sold me to an abusive monster."

"You never wanted to marry him?" Was her only question when I finally stopped talking, and it shocked me so much that all I could do in reply was to turn and stare at her in disbelief. But to her credit, she did actually seem to have begun to feel some remorse for her lie and unkindness. "How does Charlie feel about all this?"

"I truly don't know. He's angry at my father and Simon. I wouldn't blame him if he's mad at me for how easily I believed all my father's lies, because I will always regret how much pain he went through because of my gullibility" I did think I knew more of his feelings about everything, but I wasn't about to put words in his mouth when I wasn't completely sure. I thought he felt sorrow for the choice he had to make, guilt for believing the letter so quickly and never going to look for me once he had been well enough to leave the hospital, and I didn't blame him one bit for any of those feelings. "I don't know what Charlie and I ever to deserve what my father did to us. I just hope it isn't too late for us to find our way back to each other. Because a life with him is all I've ever wanted."

My reply seemed to have shocked her into silence, and it surprised me so much that I couldn't help but turn my gaze back to her. Anne was sitting there, looking at me with tears in her eyes. Seeing her like that brought me to uncontrollable tears as well.

"It's not too late, Alexis." She told me with a gentle smile on her lips, as she held a hand out for me to take. When I did just that, she quickly pulled me into her comforting embrace. "I'm sure of it."

#in my veins #alexis campbell #anne campbell #adelaide kane #michelle fairley #my books #my characters #my gifs #my edits #excerpt

[reneesbooks]

WIP Intro: Hurts, Doesn't It?

I figured it was about time I introduced the novel I'm working on for Camp Nano :)

Will's a florist, not an expert on politics, but he knows a few things: the Executive runs things from the Capitol, which was rebuilt after the Second Civil War, and eventually his son will be the Executive. He never thought about it much; he was focused on going to NYU for botany and horticulture and the Olympics for archery. But now? Now, he's in prison for smuggling forged art (which he didn't do) and all his cellmates want to talk about it how the government is horrible and the Resistance (terrorists) are actually the good guys.

Enter Kat Barrick--the girl who got Will put in prison in the first place. When she breaks him out and offers her help getting him home, he is reasonably skeptical. Despite her secrets, she is trying to help him. He'll give her a chance to get him home. But as he learns more about her world and the truth behind his history books, he begins to wonder if home is still within reach.

my baby my novel that i've been writing for years my beloved. here are the main characters (picrew used):

Will Moore: He's a florist from Jersey who did NOT sign up for any of this. that's okay, though. he's figuring it out. His favorite hobbies are archery and talking to people about flowers. He will find a way to mention the fact that he's a florist in any conversation. wants to go to the olympics but already won the himbolympics

Kat Barrick: she's an art forger who ran away from home at seventeen and supports her family by selling her paintings on the black market. yes she throws knives no you don't get to know where she learned to. not here to fuck around, just trying to get through the day. she WILL stab you if you get in her way though

Peyton Barrick: Kat's older brother and perpetually exhausted mother hen. Great public speaker but prefers to be cooking most of the time. Definitely going to trick you into being a vegetarian because he is and knows his way around a spice rack enough to convince you that you are eating pork, not eggplant. why is he a vegetarian? none of your fucking business.

Scarlett Carter: battle-worn leader of the Resistance and antique revolver enthusiast. yes it's very funny that she has a gigantic scar across her face and her name is Scarlett. mention it again and she'll show you one of those revolvers up close. these new kids are giving her grey hairs.

Hayden Stone: Scarlett's husband and the brains of the Resistance. NOT a morning person, will greet you with a shotgun if you wake him up. loves his daughter and is very sad that she decided to be a spy when he's just trying to keep her safe. thinks Will's puns are shitty and has a bet going on how long it'll take Kat to kill him.

My goal for Camp Nano has been to write 25,000 words and as of 4/11 I'm about halfway there :D

Posts tagged for this novel can be found here. A few highlights so far:

Kat and Will getting drunk and watching the news

15-question character interview of Kat and Will

Kat and Will having an Emotional Talk

Will taking a serious risk

The following excerpt is the opening scene, where Will meets Kat in his shop for the first time. let me know if you're interested in being added to the taglist for this wip! <3

I nudged the unconscious man with the bristles of the broom. “Are you dead?”

A small groan escaped. “She left me…”

“Jesus, you’re a sad drunk,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Dude, you have to make like a tree and leave.”

He mumbled something that sounded like an insult and turned over, face-down on the floor. I nudged him again with the broom, then smacked him when he didn’t move. He lurched up into a sitting position, swearing vaguely in my direction, and nearly knocked over a potted plant on a stand.

“I’m calling the cops if you don’t leave,” I said, moving towards the counter. “Whatever your deal is, it’s none of my business, but you gotta do it somewhere else.”

He grumbled and groaned but another smack with the broom had him up and stumbling out of the store. I rearranged the vases and potted plants that he’d disturbed and swept up the fallen leaves and petals.

The bell over the door rang and I turned to greet the customer. “Welcome to Lydia’s Fine Flowers, how can I help you?”

The young woman smiled, running her fingers over the head of one of the flowers near the door. “Just looking, thank you,” she said. “Who’s Lydia?”

“My mom,” I said, retreating behind the counter. “She grows all these flowers herself. Best florist in Jersey.”

“Not that you’d ever brag,” the young woman said with a smirk.

“That would be utterly unbe-leaf-able,” I replied, setting the broom back in its spot. “Bragging is very unbecoming.”

“Plant puns must be part of the job,” she said.

“The fun part.”

“Hmm.” She turned to look at the refrigerated arrangements. I went back to the shop computer, squinting at the inventory numbers. We would need to sell the summer arrangements soon, with fall coming up. I bit my lip. My mom would be on her own in a few months. I’d been helping out in the shop for as long as I could remember, and now I was off to college. How would she fare without me?

I turned around, shaking off the worry. My mom would be fine. I spotted the young woman frowning at a bouquet and walked over.

She jumped a little when I got close, her hand going to her waist. She relaxed when she saw it was me. I grinned at her. “Forget me not.”

She blinked. “What?”

I gestured at the display. “Forget-me-nots. I can check the pricing if you’d like.”

She sighed, her hand dropping away from her waist. “No, thanks. I was just thinking about a picture I saw once. I recognized the flowers from that.”

“I see. Let me know if you have any questions,” I said, returning to the counter. I picked up my book from behind the register and flipped through the pages until I found the spot I had left off at.

Olympic Committee Requirements

My fingers itched, imagining myself at the Olympic tryouts the next summer. I would win gold, I was sure of it. I'd already won state and regional archery competitions, gone to nationals, and beaten more experienced archers who were twice my age. I was more than cut out for it.

I was going to make it.

The crinkle of tissue paper jolted me out of the book. “Will?”

I glanced up at the young woman, startled. She smiled at me, her eyes flicking down to my nametag. I grinned back. “I feel like I’m at a disadvantage here. You don’t have a nametag.”

“How much for these?” she asked, gesturing at the bouquet of lilies she’d set on the counter.

“Fifteen.” I punched it into the register. “Cash or card?”

“Cash.” She set the money down on the counter and fiddled with the lilies as I made change.

“Are those a gift for someone or just for you?” I wrapped them up in paper and added a packet of plant food.

“They’re for my little sister.” Her lips twitched. “They’re her favorite.”

“That’s sweet.” I handed her the change. “I never did get your name.”

“Hmm.” She turned, curling brown hair swinging over her shoulder. I caught the faint whiff of mint before the bell chimed and she was gone. I stared after her for a second before returning to my book.

I had bigger things to worry about.

if you want to get into the mood, this wip does have a playlist

#wip intro #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #writeblr #original fiction #hdi? #angry knife child #token florist #prince of parsnips #country girls make trouble #no dad jokes allowed #rb original #Spotify #camp nano april 2023 #camp nanowrimo

[caffeinatedopossum]

Below is a little excerpt from my journal from a little over a year ago. I've been thinking about it a lot and decided I want to share it (with anyone willing to read this very long post). With that said, this is incredible personal to me and this excerpt may be triggering as it involves themes of suicide and trauma

I can't recall what I said just moments earlier but I get the impression from the look on my girlfriend's face that it was something I shouldn't have said. She looks concerned and shocked, angry fear washing over the familiar lines of her face. I had stood up to leave the room, saying something like "I'm gonna stay up for a bit, you should get some sleep though", feeling completely numb. I'm drained and tired, emptiness permeating my conscience in a way that sleep can never fill.

"I'm not going to sleep *now*!" she retorts, incredulous.

"What..." I try to ask, but it's not a question, really. My voice does sound confused but not in a way that asks for an answer. "What did I just say…?"

I hate that I have this question. I hate that it's not a rhetorical one, I genuinely let those thoughts slip away. I hate that I can't remember. In seconds, the hatred is filling me up- not pushing away the tiredness, just sitting in seething silence atop it.

"You told me you called the suicide hotline today. You're not okay." The words are piercing and final, like I can hear the period at the end of each sentence. I'm not okay.

There's something in the air that thickens the oxygen, a sweet smelling poison that chokes me. I sit down next to her again, mostly because I want to offer some comforting words, but I linger there only because I feel too weak to stand when there are none to give.

In reality, I just want to run. I want to run and run and never stop running but I'm too tired. All the strength is sapped from me by the hurt in my girlfriend's voice. I forgot she cares about me more than I do. *I'm so stupid*. I scold myself silently for being so forgetful, for being so apathetic, so careless with my love.

The hatred boils inside of me, tendrils swimming in my chest like hands reaching up through the soil in a graveyard. They're the hands of memories, refusing to be buried alive, demanding to survive.

"I'm sorry," I say in an unrecognizable voice.

I try to lay my head on her shoulder but move away when it feels absurdly wrong, like a hot stove reaching for an unsuspecting hand, a burn that can only be justified by the hand's accidental touch. An action that would be impossible. And so I return to being inanimate.

The suicide hotline had hung up on me. I told them I want to live but hardly got to finish the sentence, the other words that would've strung together to tell them "but I don't have the strength".

They offered me the same dismissal I'm so comfortable with. It's familiar and unthreatening. I welcome its presence like a thief that I will never accuse of its crime- afterall I did watch as I let it happen. Doesn't that mean I wanted it? Or perhaps I just felt too powerless to do anything but allow it.

I apologize and apologize with my whole being. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I'm hurting. I'm sorry I exist.

I'm sorry that I want to take this existence from you, you who loves me far beyond my comprehension.

I didn't want this- existence or pain. It's not like I asked for it… at least not the first hundred times.

I was born into it, like a uniform I can never take off. It itches and burns, begging to be part of me, and I can never slip out of it completely, even when I retreat into my mind. I feel it on top of my skin, everywhere I go. When you think you're touching me, you're touching it. When I think I'm touching you, I'm touching it. When I undress, it is enveloping me still.

It hurts unjustly.

I've exiled it, tormented it, starved it, scarred it, reprimanded it … hated it. And now I just want to kill it, to let it die under an unmarked grave.

My girlfriend doesn't hold me for quite a while now, nor will she even look at me. She's talking but I'm only hearing myself.

Hearing myself thinking 'No, this feels bad. Please stop.'

The words are being poured into my ears. The truth is holding my face tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises and I can't look away from it's angry eyes.

'It's not supposed to feel good.' Someone else says the words in my mind.

'Deal with it.' Says another.

I know they aren't wrong, the brain is built to survive, not to feel good. I reluctantly surrender to the truth, to the uncertainty of its grasp, even though I feel like it will kill me. 

Maybe *because* I feel like it will kill me.

But I don't want to die. I just want, for once, to stop surviving.

#anyways. gonna pretend im not being super vulnerable with this one #okay but all that said i am incredibly proud of my writing in this. i feel like it says exactly what i wanted to say #and i hope that by sharing it i can help someone feel less alone

[linaket]

Weekly Writing Check-In (2/12/23)

Tinder Saint Progress: * 6 of 15 chapters complete. * word count: 18k (projected: 40k)

An excerpt, with some lore building.

“Rashad wasn’t completely wrong. Almost every Ilazkin text had some story or another in it, but there’s layers. The story of Shahsu and Maran is about parts being separated, and bringing them back together. Under it is the construct of the soul.”

He knelt at the center of the room, and was rewarded by the symbol he was looking for. He brushed his hand over it, feeling the raised edges around it. “This one is the whole.” He waved Jinan over. “Wait here.”

“The soul?” Sita asked.

Once Vahn saw the path, it was easy to follow. “The soul wasn’t a single thing to the ancients. It had parts.” He found a second panel on the opposite wall. “This one is self. Suad?”

They approached, wary but grudgingly willing. “Is there more?”

“One more.” 

Vahn crossed the room to the panel that Rashad had originally found. With the flames illuminating it at the right angle, it was exactly as it had been before.

“What’s that?” Suad asked.

Vahn smiled to himself. He remembered the light slanting through the windows and how the shadows darkened the annoyed knit of Kanna’s brow. “She couldn’t really figure out what to call it.” He tilted his head to the side, studying the lines. “I guess ‘gift’ is pretty close. But…”

“What would you call it?” Sita prompted. 

Vahn had almost forgotten she was there. “Instinct might be closer.”

🎵 A Shell In The Pit's Rings in Rings in Rings

Thoughts:

This week I managed to be more productive than I have been in recent times, finishing a full chapter. It's only about 3k, but that's a good bit for me since I fell out of my regular daily writing habit last year. It felt really good to write, even if it wasn't my favorite scene and once again suffered from "why do I have so many characters doing so many things always all the time."

It did give me a bit of hope, though. I'm aiming now to try and finish a chapter a week. It might be a bit lofty in my current state, but I want to re-establish a writing routine again. I've missed it, and I need it.

Tinder Saint has been going a bit... oddly, in comparison to my usual way of going about things. Because I had been feeling so low about my writing, I had spent months spinning my wheels and getting nowhere, until I decided "fuck it" and just. Banged out an entire scene draft for the whole story in a few days. But when I did that, it helped me to see things much clearer, and I was able to get excited about the project again. I always avoided doing this because I thought it ruined part of the fun/spontaneity of writing, but it... didn't do that for me. I know what is going on and what happens, and now I can't wait to make it pretty and make it hurt.

I have been skipping a few chapters / scenes that I simply. Didn't feel like writing. And I am typically a very chronological writer. Even now, it's nagging me that I skipped some things. And because of it, I have about two or three chapters that are sitting half finished. I'm thinking I may spend this next week going back to some of those skipped scenes since I have a better idea of what I need in them and I'm feeling a tad more confident in myself since I was able to get some good writing sessions in.

#writing updates #TSetc #Spotify

[castiel]

anything amnesia makes me crazy!!!!!! tell me what youre planning 👀👀👀👀

ahhh thank you for asking divvy!!!! oooo i have such a soft spot for this fic! it's SO cathartic for all those deangirl feelings... i really need to finish it

--

excerpt:

Castiel came back to the car and sat in the front seat again. “Sam will just be a moment.”

Dean shrugged. “Ok.” He picked at the side of his thumb. “He seems pretty upset.”

Castiel turned in his seat so he was facing towards Dean again and stared. Dean felt like he was deciding what to say, so he waited. 

Finally he spoke, “You and Sam are close. You’re very important to each other.”

Dean nodded to himself. “Ya, I guess I wouldn’t be too happy if my own brother forgot who I was.” He glanced up at Castiel, wondering… “Are we important to each other too?”

Castiel’s eyes widened slightly and he stared some more. He opened his mouth once but then shut it again. 

Dean cocked his head and smiled to himself. He thought he might have figured out why Sam had hesitated to call Castiel his friend and why Castiel himself was now tongue tied. But he decided to keep it to himself for now. 

--

outline:

dean gets hurt during a hunt and wakes up in the hospital not remembering anything. not his name, not sam, nothing.

sam decides that they shouldn't tell dean about the hunting/the supernatural, etc, and makes cas promise he won't either.

dean assumes that he and cas are dating but that sam and cas didn't want to make him feel awkward about not remembering it. there are also a ton of little things that are different about dean because he doesn't have any memories of hunting or growing up with john. it bothers sam a lot because he feels like this man isn't dean.

dean asks cas about if they're dating, cas says no, dean still doesn't believe him and they decide to just do what they want, which is obviously make out and be boyfriends.

sam feels weird about the whole thing but he and dean talk it out.

dean starts having dreams that he doesn't know are memories. of hell, and hunting. he tells cas about them and wonders at where his mind would get such awful ideas. cas feels terrible but doesn't say anything. but they have a big emotional talk about who dean is at heart and what bearing his memories have on that. it's so mushy, just you wait.

they go on a road trip to the beach. it's fun and lighthearted, but dean can tell from how sam and cas are acting that this isn't normal for them. dean asks cas to help him remember this feeling when he finally does get his memories back, because he doesn't want to lose this, or him.

dean eventually does remember and has a major breakdown over it. goes for a long drive and cries.

then comes back to the bunker and has a huge emotional reunion with cas and sam!! literally ALL the feels

#jenn writes #jennmishwrites #destiel fic #deancas fic

[rawrtriesagain]

yall i did NOT plan out the comic at all now that im trying to put it together im laughing wtf I also didn't check to think if my comic even makes sense as an excerpt so im rly just pandering to myself but thats ok thats what art is about am i right ladies

idk if its even gonna show up in the tags properly since its so fuckin long but oh well also guess ill die

anyway since you guys are my faves i wanted to share my favorite pre-sketches and other things since i thought they were cuter than the actual comic and im sad they're gone

first of all anyone who can draw a background well is a god like truly honestly like fuck backgrounds im sorry, i respect yall background artists. here's background without diakko lmaO ignore the very back they cover it:

heres diana about have a mental breakdown as usual girl go to therapy:

ugh i love this one i wanted to give akko an absolute dumb fuckin face because i thought it would be so funny paired next to diana's emo thoughts (had to mostly decide against it to not ruin the vibes :/):

dianas depression kicking in as usual:

thats it all the other panels were essentially just built off the existing ones anyway ya my hand hurts and i was late as fuck for my submission but hopefully thats ok. I did all this for what?? for BURNOUT??

this scene in dreamer of stars is one of my faves and it was nice to draw it out. if you havent read the fic yet go read it. Anyway I was debating between this scene and the Obvious Flower Scene^TM but I don't like my skills enough yet to do the flower scene justice. Still finding all the excuses I can to shove this story in ppls faces even though I cringe at some of the writing mainly grammar issues and like pacing that I need to fix but likely never will lol

anyway love you guys

it be like that sometimes

#my most favorite scene is spoon diana simply because its the scene that even made me want to write the dumbass fic before i even knew #what i wanted the fic to be about #maybe ill redraw spoon diana one day

[sarcasticsunshine123]

a second chance (not what I meant), working title :)

OHOHOHOHOOO time travel fic my absolute beloved <33 I have had some trouble figuring out the ending because a part of me couldn't help but be pulled towards portbowell but I think I've landed on keeping it caswen and making it angstier fjfjf

pairing: ricky/ej

excerpt:

"Dude are you seeing this?" Big Red turned to him, obviously talking about EJ and Nini who were draped all over each other right in front of their table. He wasn't jealous of them this time, but it was still a little strange to see them so loved up after knowing them in the future.

He hummed, which only seemed to make Big Red more anxious. 

"And, what, this doesn't hurt? Seeing her with someone else?"

Ricky glanced at him, trying his best to sound grown up and mature, "It does, a bit. But we're not dating anymore so I'll just have to get over it."

Now he was thinking about it, he wondered how much he would be inadvertently changing about the timeline that he knew, just by trying to fix his mistakes. What if Nini and EJ never break up because he never tried to get between them? 

For some reason, he felt his stomach drop at the thought, but he couldn’t be clear as to why. He should feel happy that he wouldn’t ruin his friend's relationship, that they would get to be happy without him ruining it, and lord knows he didn't want a relationship with Nini anymore. So why did he care if they stayed together or not?

Definitely something to think about later, once he had got his mind wrapped around the fact he has apparently travelled through time.

fjfk anyone ask for s2!Ricky having to live through s1 again, messing up the timeline by trying to fix his mistakes and then accidentally getting a lot closer to ej in the fall out of that? no? oops....

anyway this fic is super fun to write and I want to work on it more, it's just kind of hard both remembering well enough what happens in the show and then applying it to s2!Ricky's mindset and also deciding what stuff to rewrite and what to leave out because I cannot be bothered to rewrite every single scene in s1+2 fjdj it's a really fun project so I think this'll be one of the main ones I'll keep working on

thanks for the ask!!!! I love this fic so much I really hope I get to finish it because it is so cool and I really want to share it djfj

#hsmtmts #caswen #ricky bowen #sunshine writes #sunshine asks #ricky x ej #ej x ricky #im obsessed w this fic like i truly adore it #i hope i can finish and post it one day #ive forgotten how to tag this type of thing #long excerpt bc i couldnt bring myself to cut it down fjfjd #do send me asks about my wips id love to discuss them #this made it feel more solid in my brain i think itll help me write it tbh #theres a big twist at the end its so exciting to write #wip game

[masschase]

For the ship meme, for Casey x Matt, LOVE 1 2 and 3!!

Ship Ask Meme

Hi hi everyone, welcome to my longest answer post ever I believe.

It's also the most spoilery one ever as I decided to use fanfic excerpts to give more of a glimpse of their story to those who've not read it. Some might have some issues with missing italics as they didn't transfer over.

Anyway, if you don't mind the spoilers and possible very brief mentions of nsfw and have some serious time to kill reading about my beloveds, feel free to do so.

1. Who said “I love you” first?

This is like a big thing in my fanfic so I feel like this is going to be one of the worst spoilers I've posted. Like yes, I've talked about their future but this is like... a pivotal point that I feel like so much builds up to. I'm going to straight-up post the excerpt because if I try and paraphrase it just won't sound as good.

But first I have to summarise how it gets to this point. In 2022, Matt, along with a few other Saints ends up travelling back to 2016 to protect the past Boss from an assassination attempt. He ends up being the one best placed to sneak her away from a particularly bad threat, much to some of the gang's chagrin. Kinzie and Shaundi really don't want her to go with him, whilst Asha and Ben are in support, and Pierce is on the fence. So Johnny takes Matt aside to talk to him. (This excerpt is from Matt's POV whereas the rest here are from Casey's)

“I need to know about ya loyalty to my best friend. I need to know you’re gonna protect her at all costs.”. He said nothing more but stared him down hard, his grip on his shoulder tightening and actually starting to hurt a little, an absolutely terrifying expression on his face. If Johnny had a clue, even a single inkling of Matt’s feelings for their shared best friend, he wouldn’t dare question his loyalty to her. The last six months it had spiralled out of control. She defined his every moment, his life; working with her, talking with her, looking at her, thinking of her, even fucking dreaming of her. She was his Sun, his Moon, his stars, and all that other cliché shit, but more importantly she was his Earth even when the real one was gone forever. Grounding him. Making his life worthwhile. How could he possibly explain that in a way that Johnny would begin to understand? He looked at her. Much as he’d tried to convince himself, it was still her. Thinking of her alone out there, the words came to him effortlessly. “I’d do anything for her. I’d take a fucking bullet for her, Johnny.”

Johnny deems him worthy. They end up leaving on Matt's bike and hiding out at his apartment. From her point of view he's a relative stranger but seems nice enough, from his she's just a slightly different version of the woman he's in (he thinks) unrequited love with. One thing leads to another and they end up sleeping together the first night.

Because their attraction is quite intense and the sex is good, they agree to have an arrangement for the next few days until he has to go back. However, she quickly develops vague feelings for him, and obviously he already has feelings for her, even if it's not quite the same her.

Once the threat is over (20+ chapters later), with the antagonist Zinbir telling the Boss he will "see her in 5 and a half years" which does make them all worry about the future Boss a little, he agrees to attend the 4th of July party with her the following day, and then he'll jump back. She doesn't really want him to go. But he's missing the future version of her terribly, as well as worrying about that threat, and knows from their TimeComm conversation that she's missing him too.

So at the end of the night, they go to say their goodbyes, exchanging some heartfelt words. She promises she's always going to protect him when they cross paths in future. He says that he would argue against that, but that next time they meet he's going to be a weedy little 18 year old, so he will appreciate that, plus he feels that's what she's already done for him really. He says he'll protect her in his own way in the future, but realises that doesn't mean much to her past self.

So then he promises that she can always be herself around him. That he can always show the real her and he's not going to think she's weak for wanting to cuddle or feel threatened by her intelligence. That he'll always laugh at her jokes, no matter how surreal or cheesy they are.

“What if they’re not funny?” He smiled. “They’re always funny.” he admitted. “And if you get a little perverted at times... well I can’t promise it won’t have me thinking inappropriate things, but I promise I won’t judge you for it. Because I know you’re scared of all these things that show the real you. But these are just some the things I love about you.” “Matt...” she said, smiling, drawn in by his beautiful words. “That’s so nice... thank you. But... how can you promise all of that when it’s not gonna be you doing it?” “Because...” he said, still smiling. “I already have.” “Oh yeah.” she said with a laugh. She guessed there wasn't much left to say except goodbye. As if reading her mind, she saw the smile disappear off his face in a split second. “Well Matt-" “GET DOWN.” he yelled, grabbing her arm and pretty much flinging her on the floor behind him. “What the-" There was a single gunshot. Matt fell to his knees and then back onto the floor in front of her. She instinctively scanned the street in front of them in a panic, pulling out her pistol.

She shoots at the Zin, though he gets away. Y'know how I said there was a literal Checkov's gun in the first chapter of my fic? It's the pistol we see in the Boss's thigh holster in the old photo of her at this party which she shoots at Zinbir (although it only injures him). Y'know how I said there was a figurative one in the first chapter? It's Shaundi's giant purse in the same picture, that she had everyone's phones in (she is inside with Viola).

As a result, Kinzie and Pierce, who were waiting while Matt and the Boss said goodbye, have to run back inside to get their phones/find a doctor, while she finds and applies pressure to the wound. They're left alone outside.

When she talks about losing friends in the last few days below she is talking about alternate memories. Also, as a reminder... Matt doesn't know the Boss's name at this point. No one does. Even Kinzie and Johnny don't know her full name. Neither has the reader known for the 29 chapters prior.

“Matt... shit, why’d you have to fuckin’ do that?” “It was me or you... so... uh... SHIT THIS HURTS!” he cried out. “You got fuckin’ shot, Matt, ‘course it fuckin hurts!” “Fuck... ah..." he groaned. “Boss...just in case I... y’know... die...” “Shut up Matt, you’re not dying.” she lied, knowing it wasn’t looking good for him. “Just... stop talking; try to save your energy, for god’s sake!” “Just... in...”. He yelled out in pain, interrupting his sentence. “Matt, c’mon, please...” she begged. She couldn’t stand the way he was talking. Couldn’t bear that he sounded like he was slipping away. Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked up and shut them tight. But then she remembered how she'd felt when she thought Johnny died alone, and of all the friends she had memories of losing over the past few days without getting to truly comfort them, and she refocused, looking down to him, letting the tears spill from her eyes as she focused hard on his bright blue ones. "What... is it Matt?" she asked gently. “I just want you... to know... that I love you, Boss.” Her breath caught in her throat and her whole body got goosebumps. Her chest felt like it was going to split right in two. Because she knew he deserved to hear it back. But she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him.  Because even putting all her bullshit aside entirely... she didn’t love him. She certainly cared for him a great deal. She even suspected her future self loved him. But she barely even knew him. What the fuck could she do? “I know you don't... feel the same.” he croaked out, like he’d read her mind. “But I do... I love you...” “Casey.” she said gently. “What?” She sighed. “Technically it's Cassandra.” she explained disapprovingly. “But ever since I was a kid everyone always called me-“ “Your name?” he breathed, shocked even amidst the pain. “Your... name is Casey?” She nodded, looking down at him, her vision blurring from her eyes leaking uncontrollably. He gave her a weak smile and reached up to stroke her cheek. “I love you, Casey.” She leaned down and kissed him, then panicked that she might not be applying enough pressure to his wound and drew back again. “Matt...” she sobbed quietly. “Please don’t fuckin’ die on me.”

So yeah... Matt said it first.

Love 2. What are their primary love languages?

I think one of the first ones I establish with them is thoughtful gifts. Matt is the one who starts the tradition on the ship of time-jumping to get gifts. The very first time Casey kind of appears on Matt's couch at the time she knows he watches Nyte Blayde, she ends up mentioning it's almost her birthday the following week and that nothing will get done for it because the only one who usually remembers is Johnny, who's more of a party crasher than a planner. She doesn't admit it but she's pretty upset this year because Kinzie, the only person who knows she's actually turning 30, doesn't do birthdays. But Matt senses her disappointment.

Johnny did end up throwing her a surprise party. Nothing huge, just some music and alcohol and a cake. She couldn’t help but wonder if Matt had anything to do with that. Verbally he denied it, but he smirked in a way that told her everything she needed to know. His ego couldn’t quite let him deny the credit. He got her a gift. It was a Trapper Keeper and a big stack of paper. She’d had one not unlike it in middle school, but it was a hand me down from her sister, and it wasn’t in the best shape by then. This one was a slightly older design, but brand new. “To write down all your dark, brooding vampire thoughts.” he teased. “Pretty high and mighty for someone who didn’t know what a Trapper Keeper WAS a few months ago.” “Yes, thank God for the internet. Otherwise I’d have been wandering round 90s Steelport without knowing I was looking for a stationary shop.” “You went back in time to get me a gift? Matt that seems... a little risky.” she frowned. They’d only been time travelling for a couple of months, and they didn’t really know the ins and outs of it, but they certainly knew encountering their past selves was, for whatever reason, extremely dangerous. “Oh, don’t worry...” he laughed. “I wasn’t even born yet.” She frowned. “Matt, that is not what you say to a lady on her birthday.” “And are you... a lady?” he asked with another smirk. She snorted. “No.” He laughed. “That’s OK, I’m not much of a gentleman.” She thought about how the Trapper Keeper discussion had come about. No, maybe he wasn’t. But she suspected that underneath all his joshing and sarcasm and ego, he was actually a pretty nice guy. Maybe she needed a friend to just hang out with, without needing to be in a simulation or discussing work or shooting shit up. So the next week, she was already on the couch again when he got there. He didn’t question it that time. In fact, he never questioned it again.

The trapper keeper was relevant because she mentioned in a conversation after they first had sex that she'd had one as a kid (to which Matt said he didn't know what that was, and Casey asked if he was that young or that British 🤣) and the vampire thing was a reference to the fact she admitted she came to watch Nyte Blayde because she identified with Matt's lone hero description of him on his mission.

Anyway, after that they do tend to exchange thoughtful gifts. They don't really have much for each other the first Christmas because she maintained she didn't celebrate it.

He doesn't tell her about his birthday in January, but when he explains his reasons in March she ends up going with him on a time jump to London. They go to Forbidden Planet and he admits he wouldn't mind one of the Nyte Blayde figures. She asks which ones he already has and he explains they were blown up when the earth was, and it's not safe for him to jump back and get them. With some excessive encouragement, she manages to convince him to let her buy them all for him. All but the Cardinal, which was out of stock.

He makes sure Zinjai makes all her favorite foods by her next birthday, and he probably got her another small thoughtful gift, but at the time he was working on a message system that allowed her to send a text back in time to her estranged sister, so that was the real late gift.

That Christmas, she gets him the Cardinal, the one missing NB figure. This is also the Christmas Eve where she realises she's still sexually attracted to him, which is kind of the missing piece in their psuedo-relationship by this point, so I did intend this as representative of 'cardinal sin'. He gets her an electric blanket as she's always cold.

But 'Santa' also got her the flawlessly programmed sim where she gets her pony, Krukov, just like in her letter on the ship's computer. Being that she met Santa a year previously, she takes it at face value until a couple of months later when Kinzie makes a comment about how Santa "sure uses the c-word a lot when there's bugs in the code.". By this point he's back in time and she's realising how much she misses him so it hits her pretty hard.

Anyway, after Christmas but before that realisation, for his birthday, she gets him Nyte Blayde pyjama bottoms, as he mentioned on Christmas eve that he doesn't have any (except the sensory nightmare Saints Flow ones Pierce gave him).

For her following birthday, by which time they are together, he takes her to their half-finished house and shows her the huge library and the shooting range. He also gives her a diamond-studded alien rifle she'd joked about at Christmas. I had a third thing but I've forgotten what it was to be honest. Might edit in when I remember.

I have some ideas for the following Christmas but not quite ironed them out yet. And I'm pretty sure I won't be talking about my idea for his 25th on here. 🤭🤫

Point is, it's a recurring theme that they remember small things the other said and act upon them in thoughtful ways. Not just for gifts but just doing nice things for the other person, Matt especially but Casey does do it at times.

But Matt is also really physically affectionate. To the point when they become friends, he really just wants to cuddle her and touch her all the time, before there's even necessarily romantic feelings that. Casey's not like that. But she does very much need that, so she finds herself giving in, unless it's something that makes her feel 'tingly' (read: turns her on), and she ends up giving friendly hugs or occasionally grabbing his hand.

When a certain episode of NB starts her off crying because of how it relates to her life, he ends up cuddling her, and she can't bring herself to tell him to stop.

Then a couple of months later they fall asleep on each other one night. The next week he needs comforting about the trainwreck that is his love life so they hold hands. The following she's sick with a Zin virus, so while they don't have contact he ends up watching Nyte Blayde in her bed with her. The following she comes to his bed and puts her always-cold hand on his forehead. After that they return to the couch, but after that it seems to end in them cuddling every week, her stroking his hair, him doing her nails, that sort of thing.

So yeah, they already have that background of physical affection, especially with Matt initiating. Teasing and playing around with each other and lighthearted verbal affection are part of their love language too. Them being more seriously verbally affectionate is less common but they do say some beautiful things at significant times.

3. How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Seeing as they spend so much time cuddling in private before they're even a couple I'm sure they would get even worse with that. They're just fucking velcroed to each other to each other by this point.

In terms of PDA I think in their minds eye they both thought they'd be pretty discreet once they're actually together, seeing as they were always so private about their fridays, but that didn't last particularly long.

As soon as they walk into the living room their first morning after getting together, Casey lays out the facts: yes they are dating, yes it's a real relationship, no they don't have to make jokes about him being her boyfriend because he is. Of course... she's made an extreme oversight and they start joking about marriage and kids instead.

“Can you lot pipe down before you scare her off?” Matt snapped. “Ooh, someone’s brave now they have their dick in the President.” Kinzie teased. “Not right this second.” he pointed out sarcastically. “You disappointed about that, baby?” the Boss asked him suggestively. “Maybe a bit.” he replied with a grin. “You know, if they’re making you uncomfortable, we can always go back to your room.” “Guys, c’mon.” Shaundi complained. “I’m the fuckin’ Emperor sweetie, every room is my room.” Casey pointed out. He shot their friends a glance. “Well in that case...” he pulled her closer to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. It took her by surprise and she found herself jumping a little before relaxing into it, a slight blush spreading across her face. “EWW GUYS.” Kinzie screamed. There were various moans and groans around the room. When they pulled away from each other, Matt cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “I wouldn’t bother trying to make us uncomfortable.” he said confidently to the room, crossing his arms. “Because we can always outdo you.” “My boyfriend’s an evil genius.” she said with a sly smile in his direction.

After that they just kind of give up and the velcro thing extends to when they're around their friends. They try not to get too carried away when they're working. But I reckon they've both been caught on occasion looking pretty flushed at their desk while the other is suspiciously absent... or to put it more accurately... not visible.

#i've thought about making a comic about that on occasion but i couldn't work out which way around they would be 🤣 #sorry this took so long to answer haha but you can kind of see why #sr boss: casey clark #matt miller #saints row #ask meme #thanks for the ask! #this is my favourite as meme bc I have so much to say about them #i mean that's how i ended up on tumblr after all #this feels like an advert for my fic when really it's the opposite #sr fanfic: out of time #matty x cass #(mass obvs)