#this was written 3 years ago. are you proud of me yet

[timetravellingkitty]

Mulan 2020 sucks lol

Written and edited by yours truly

So, Mulan 2020 happened. And I am disappointed. Seriously disappointed. It is utter garbage. I would genuinely prefer it if I watched Mulan II 5 times in a row, and that's saying something.

There is so much to talk about because this has so many issues. I don't think my brain can handle a movie as bad as this for some time. It is a disgrace to the original animated movie.

(Who cares about spoilers?)

And yes, I can and I will compare it to the original movie because it is a remake. It is totally valid to see where this fell flat and where the original succeeded. I'm not saying it has to be like the original cartoon, that is stupid. As I mentioned, it's to highlight the failures of this movie.

Besides, even if we forget the fact that it is a remake, this movie is still horrible.

INTRODUCTION

Mulan 1998 is a classic. It has great visuals, an awesome soundtrack, wonderful and compelling characters, a great message and a cool plot. It's just a great movie in general. It is an adaptation of The Ballad of Mulan, a Chinese legend. Both the legend and the animated movie are about a young girl named Mulan who disguises herself as a man to take her father's place in the army to fight back against an invasion.

As big of a success Mulan was, Chinese audiences thought some things were weird. For instance, having a dragon be a comic relief character, given that dragons are highly respected in Chinese culture. So of course, Disney decided to try another shot, claiming that they wanted to be more culturally sensitive, accurate and closer to the original ballad.

Mulan 2020 is a remake of the original animated movie, and was marketed to be more "accurate to Chinese culture and the Ballad". This claim is, of course, false, because they failed in that aspect. Say what you will about the cultural inaccuracies in Mulan 1998, but at least it was a great movie. Besides, Mulan 1998 didn't pride or market itself on being culturally accurate, the way Mulan 2020 did, so there's that.

CHANGES

I don't mind some changes. And honestly, if there's one thing I appreciate, it's that it isn't a carbon copy of the original (looking at you The Lion King 2019).

Li Shang's character is divided into two characters: Commander Tung and Mulan's love interest Honghui, apparently in light of the Me-Too movement. This is a dumb reason. Disney wasn't comfortable with a superior having a relationship with a subordinate? The hell? The romance between Shang and Mulan was only insinuated at the end, when Mulan wasn't even a part of the army anymore, so there's that. Also, Mulan gave her consent, so I don't know what they’re talking about.

Mushu isn't present in the movie. I can see why though. He contributed quite a bit to the soul of the animated version but a CGI dragon would be very distracting. Also, the director said that removed him to achieve a more realistic tone.

Grandma? No grandma. Mulan has a sister though, who only exists to mess stuff up.

The Huns are replaced with the Rourans and Shan Yu is replaced with Bori Khan.

Mushu is replaced with a phoenix, who acts as an emissary for the ancestors

There are no songs, except in the end credits, which isn't a bad thing. The instrumentals of the songs in the animated one play during some scenes (I'll talk about the music, don’t worry)

CHARACTERS

The characters in this movie are so boring. Our lead character Mulan lacks the charisma her animated counterpart had. She's utterly bland, uninteresting and poorly written. In the original, she knew she wasn't physically strong and that she couldn't solve her problems with her strength, so she used her intelligence and wit. She excelled by working hard and being strong willed and determined. This Mulan is a well rounded character.

Mulan in the live action is given Chi powers (Chi is a big part of Chinese medicine, in case you didn't know). Honestly, I wouldn't be as mad at Mulan being given superpowers, had they actually done this properly! Chi isn't like midichlorians, it's something that flows through everyone. Mulan is naturally born with dumb superpowers and has to hide them because as her dad says, " Chi is for warriors, not for daughters”. There is a problem:

It has been mentioned many times that Mulan needs to hide her superpowers otherwise she will be shunned and ostracised. Then why doesn't she get more repercussions everytime she uses her powers? The worst thing that happens is little Mulan getting looks of disgust when she uses them. On other occasions, when she is now a part of the army, she uses her powers in training and she doesn't get any backlash? What the hell?? Then why even bother in the first place?

The only way for this narrative to work is if Mulan got more repercussions for using her powers.

If I were to make the line "Chi is for warriors, not daughters," work, I would make it go something like this:

*At the end of the movie when Mulan comes home*

Dad: Didn't I tell you that Chi is for warriors, not daughters?

Mulan: "I am a daughter, but I'm a warrior too."

(Yes, I know this is similar to a scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender, but this would be better, tbh. Also, watch Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Let me compare the training montages from both movies.

In the animated one, there is an absolutely AWESOME montage of Mulan training side by side with her companions, slowly gaining their trust. She climbs the pillar with both medallions by using her wit, not by brute force. This Mulan worked hard. Besides, the fact that "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" plays over this is the only thing that makes it better (banger song, thank you Donny Osmond)

In the live-action, Mulan is supposed to lift up buckets and climb on top of a mountain. There are also other training scenes, but those aren't very important. In these scenes, she succeeds with the power of CHI. WHY? Mulan here just achieves her goal because she is oh so special. She didn't work to achieve her goal at all, because she is perfect. No struggling or development here at all.

Mulan in the animated version was more concerned about saving her father. Mulan in the 2020 version is a dumb patriot who can't even do patriotism right ("I know my place. It is my duty to fight for the kingdom and protect the Emperor") How very empowering.

In short, live-action Mulan can do no wrong. She has no flaws, no personality and no charm. Everything comes to her pretty easily, because MAGIC.

Li Shang's role in the live-action is divided between Commander Tung and Mulan's love interest Honghui, as mentioned before. Both of these characters are flat, dumb and boring. Tung exists to tell Mulan to cultivate her Chi and to train these idiots (and to offer his daughter’s hand in marriage to her, unaware that Mulan isn’t actually a guy, but eh). Honghui is there to be a stupid love interest, who gives us an “I am Spartacus” moment.

The witch is by far the most interesting character. She actually has more than one side to her, has SOME kind of depth and you can even feel sorry for her. She is supposed to serve as a foil to Mulan, given that both have similar powers. In case you've forgotten (which is something I wouldn't blame you for), she's an outcast who's now working with Bori Khan. Why is she an outcast? Because of her Chi. The witch has said many times that she could kill Bori Khan in a snap, then why doesn't she kill him? Because she needs acceptance? What the hell? She decides to pull out the whole "We're the same, you and I," stupidity to Mulan, and I can see that. It's just that the writers just didn't put much thought into it. “It’s too late for me” because you saw a woman leading an army of men? Also, why does she warn Mulan that Bori Khan is coming? Unless she's playing both sides, except her motivations aren't made clear enough for this to make sense. Finally, she dies for the dumbest reason. God, it just makes me so mad. She had so much potential, but no. They just had to mess her up.

Bori Khan? MORE LIKE BORING KHAN. Not much is there. His animated counterpart Shan Yu was scary and contributed to some of the darkest moments in the movie. This guy over here is just...nothing. That's all I have to say.

Mulan's sister is only there to mess up the meeting with the Matchmaker. What a stupid change. First off in the animated version, it's Mulan who messed up, because she isn't perfect. She fails at being stereotypically feminine AND masculine, but in the live-action, she literally pulls off a Spiderman cafeteria scene, and the blame is put on the sister. In the animated movie, this scene is groundwork for Mulan wanting to prove herself and going on a hero's journey, providing depth to her character, but in the live-action, she's perfect. What is the point? (I know this section was supposed to be about the sister, but eh). The sister doesn't provide anything else to the movie, so thanks! I hate it. Moral of the story: Girls can do anything boys can, as long as they have superpowers. If you are born special like Mulan, you can be respected, whereas if you are like the sister, you have no significance and in the end, you can just fit in and be irrelevant. Congratulations!

The live action group of guys Mulan met and befriended in the army lack the charm and comedic timing of their animated counterparts. That’s it. Seriously. I have nothing more to say about them, because they don't really have anything going on. I don't even know why they are included, because their contribution is nil, save for them blandly speaking lines from the animated version’s songs ("I don't care what she looks like, I care what she cooks like"), which is seriously cringe.

The dad is there to tell Mulan that Chi is for warriors. A shame, because I really liked the dad in the movie. He was a source of wisdom for Mulan, whose greatest honour was having her for a daughter. In the live-action, he just takes the sword that Mulan is given at the end of the movie. The mom is meh.

The emperor is also meh. At least he was wise and cool in the animated version, but here he just does bed sheet kung-fu.

Did I mention that the dynamics between the characters are unnatural, forced, awkward in a bad way and in no way indicates any chemistry between them? Oh yeah, I didn’t, until now. They don’t establish much when it comes to emotion.

Simply put, Khan (Mulan’s horse in the animated version) had more personality than all of these characters combined

PERFORMANCES

Liu Yifei as Mulan was a pretty terrible choice. She is just a block of wood, who has absolutely no range, and this isn't because of the writing. She is genuinely bad, and is regarded as one of China’s worst actors (I kid you not). She just can’t emote.

Jet Li as the emperor is meh. But hey, he doesn’t have much to do, so eh.

Jason Scott Lee as Bori Khan is fine. He doesn’t suck, but he lacks the command and authority of a character who is supposed to be intimidating, but I guess it has something to do with the writing of his character.

Donnie Yen is a martial art legend, but unfortunately, he doesn't have much range as an actor.

The best performance of this movie is that of Gong Li, who played the witch. Honestly, she is charismatic, charming and has an idea of what she is doing.

To save everyone’s time, simply put: most of the performances are bland and mediocre. Partly due to bad writing and partly due to most of the actors not being, well, good at acting.

CULTURAL AND HISTORICAL ACCURACY

So Disney went all “we like cultural and historical accuracy”, which is nice. For example, the Huns are replaced by the Rourans, a real tribe in China around the time Mulan was supposed to be alive. They also removed the hair cutting scene, because as iconic and awesome as it is, it doesn’t make sense. Chinese men wore their hair long too. You know what? I like these kinds of changes. I appreciate accuracy. If only Disney didn’t pride themselves on their accuracy when they got almost everything else wrong (They somehow got Mulan's house wrong lol). I don't know jackshit about Chinese culture so just go watch that Xiran Jay Zhao video it's very swag

THE BALLAD OF MULAN

In a surprising turn of events, this isn't accurate to the Ballad, like they had marketed it to be (I know, I’m shocked too). In a reference to the Ballad, Mulan is riding a horse and she sees two rabbits running side by side. She goes home and tells her family that she saw 2 rabbits, and she thinks that one was male and the other female, but she wasn't sure. This just misses the entire point of the Ballad.

Long story short, Mulan in the Ballad is actually a seamstress. She joined the army in her father's place. She defeats the barbarians and goes on a ten year long campaign with her friends, after which they meet the Son of Heaven (a sacred imperial title of a Chinese emperor). He offers her a high ranking position, which she refuses, because she just wants to go home. She returns home and her family welcomes her. Sometime later, her friends come to visit her, and they find out that she is actually a woman. The friends are shocked because she has been in the army for 12 years and in those 12 years, they didn't even realise that she was a woman.

Mulan then replies:

The male hare's feet hop and skip

The female hare's are muddled and fuddled

But when two hares are running side by side

How can you tell the male from the female?

Which is where the poem ends.

So, Mulan just going on, judging those rabbits like that makes absolutely no sense. The Ballad is about how no matter how different men and women look, when they live and fight amongst each other, who gives a damn about the differences? You know what would have made sense though? If Mulan got off her horse, went close to the rabbits, examined them, and then made the conclusion that one is male and the other is female. This would actually be sticking to the message of the Ballad. Also, why do they make it ambiguous as to whether she accepts the high ranking position? I assume for a sequel (yes, God save my soul). Here we can see another example of its impeccable accuracy to the Ballad.

THIS ISN'T EMOTIONAL AT ALL

Everything that made the original film good has been stripped away. Every moment that is meant to be emotional is very dull. For example, the scene where Mulan makes the decision to take her father's place in the army is supposed to be a very powerful scene. Mulan is risking it all just so her dad can be safe. She might be killed if discovered, and her family would be dishonoured.

When Mulan comes back from the Matchmaker, she has a moment of reflection while singing "Reflection". This is the beginning of her personal journey, discovering who she is. In this, after Mulan comes back from the Matchmaker, she doesn't have a moment of reflection. The army immediately shows up. Am I really supposed to believe that Mulan feels bad about this? That Mulan is really struggling?

When Mulan’s friends are singing, it suddenly shifts to the striking scene of the burnt village. This, in my opinion, is the best use of tonal whiplash. From this point on, things are getting serious, and the emotional weight of this tragedy is felt. In this, they just randomly show up at the village.​​ There is no seriousness (stop trying to tell me this movie is adult, mature and serious, it just looks like that on the surface).

Their attempts at being emotional are poor and unconvincing, and ultimately, the end product is an emotionless, soulless, depthless entity.

THE MUSIC

The director mentioned in an interview that she didn’t add songs into the movie because it is “unrealistic to break into song when you're in war”, and I don't think I’ve heard anything more false (apart from the concept of a flat Earth). Even I, who isn't going into war anytime soon, know this is false. They instead inserted instrumentals from the original film. Except, it's very weirdly placed. The instrumental for Reflection is placed when Mulan is fighting the Rourans after she reveals herself to be a woman. Like, there isn't any context. In the end credits, they had the original song "Loyal, Brave and True" sung by Christina Aguilera, which was nice. I don't really have much to say in regards to the music. The music is overall forgettable.

THE ACTION

The action may seem weird, but this kind of martial arts is a part of the Wuxia genre, which is what they were going for. Well, they failed. The choreography is bad, the CGI is bad, EVERYTHING is bad. Honestly, if you want a good Wuxia movie, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon exists. The action is here stupid and stiff.

OTHER DUMB STUFF

Why does Mulan take her armour off before going into battle? That is just stupid. Can't you just take the bindings off? Also, WHY OPEN YOUR HAIR-

Mulan really likes kicking spears (and pointy stuff in general). Seriously. It’s weird.

The CGI is okay I guess, I don't know. The phoenix in some scenes looks pink to me. There are some pretty visuals though.

It is very obvious that there is a green screen used in the scene where Mulan and her friends find the burnt village. And it looks bad. Pretty ugly. It looks bad. The green screen looks bad.

The war strategy is just weird. I can't really say anything about it in text form because how am i supposed to describe it, help- (she literally teleported behind the bad guys in the avalanche scene-).

I like how the animated film, which had a dragon as a comic relief and other silly stuff, is more mature than this.

For what joy does Mulan get another sword from the army? Also, shame the dad is all “oh look at the values written on the sword, they are honourable” even though in the original the greatest honour was having her for a daughter.

How was Mulan even able to tell the gender of the rabbits?

Why not just try to send a warning to the Emperor that the Rourans are coming to get him?

Why does Commander Tung let Mulan lead them-

I AM SO DONE

Well, I think I have said everything I wanted to about this movie. I know I havent talked about its controversies but honestly, I am done. I am so done with this. This document took 5-6 months of my life. I am kind of proud of this, and there isn't much I have done to be proud of. I did procrastinate on this a bit, and I had stuff going on, but finally, I am done. In the future, if I remember something, I'll add it here, but I think that is unlikely. I never want to watch or even go near Mulan 2020 again. It's horrible, and there is barely anything redeemable. I hate it here. It’s been reported that a sequel is in development. If it’s true, of course I’ll watch it, how else am I supposed to validate my self hate? I am also, of course, the resident “friend who suffers for everyone else’s entertainment”. If you want a live action remake of Mulan, Mulan: Rise of a Warrior exists. Go watch it, it’s free on YouTube with subtitles. I really liked it.

If you’ve somehow made it this far, thanks for reading. I congratulate you for putting up with whatever this is. I would also like to take a moment to congratulate myself for actually committing to this. It was painful yet fun to complain about this to the best of my ability. If anyone wants to add anything to this, feel free to do so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m out. I have lost my faith in humanity, and I have other things to complain about.

#this was written 3 years ago. are you proud of me yet #i should mention. the animated mulan is one of my favourite movies ever so 😙 #rava is an artist

[earthtooz]

hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3

gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!

“where is our couch?”

gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.

“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.

that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.

and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.

“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull. 

“is it not in the living room?”

he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.

“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”

the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”

“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps. 

instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.

he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”

you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.

“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”

you sigh, “yes.”

“i warped it somewhere.”

“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”

“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”

that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye. 

“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz. 

“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”

“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.” 

his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”

before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind. 

rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.

“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.

“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”

“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”

“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”

you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”

“-then i’ll warp her house.”

“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”

“so you think i’m impressive?”

“gojo.”

“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”

you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.” 

“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 

you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you. 

“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill. 

your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.

he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.” 

gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.

his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done. 

even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade. 

as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you. 

it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”

“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”

#leah pls don't perceive me this is saur embarrassing #if u read this i will simply #idk what i will do but i will do something #it feels like the heavens is deciding my fate idk this is a lot of pressure HELP #i'm not totally happy with this one #but i was determined to get this out lol so #mediocre writing as always bc what else do i give you all <33 #i should get rid of this habit #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[love-belle]

when i said we could be friends, guess i lied !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them trying to be friends and failing miserably.

or

for when you can't forgive and forget so fuck you and fuck that is the way to go. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // carlos sainz x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - posting this bc i promised y'all i will!!!! only one part of this series left before i start with all of their second parts!!!!! thank you so much for reading, i love you <3

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yourusername "the grudge" is now officially yours <3 !! it took me exactly 178 days to complete this song and it's easily one of the most vulnerable and raw songs i have ever written. every feeling i have felt for the past few months is sewn into words and i hope you all like it just as much as i do. i love you <3

13,628 comments

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carlossainz55 when i said we could be friends, guess i lied

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yourusername you have everything and you still want more

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[talesofesther]

love the way you love me

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: You navigate through a relationship with Wednesday, slowly discovering the tenderness of her love.

A/N: This is a valentine's day special. It's not even valentine's day where I live but Tumblr got me in the mood for it, so I wrote one of the most heartfelt stories I've ever done I think. Soft!Wednesday because I said so. <3

Masterlist

"Wednesday," you gasp. It falls on deaf ears.

Your eyes are closed. You can feel surprisingly warm hands sneaking under your shirt, lightly clawing at the skin there.

"Wednesday," you try again, the words are muffled against burgundy lips.

Your hands can't help but bury themselves in silky black hair.

She's addictive. She'll be the death of you.

And she's going to love every minute of it.

"You talk too much," Wednesday whispers against your mouth, her lips brushing yours.

You kiss the words, causing your nose to bump into hers before you pull away, "Weems will have my head if I'm late again today because of you."

If you try to tell this secret to anyone, they won't believe you. In some sense, you love it. She feels yours to keep, only yours.

She pulls back, hazy dark eyes piercing into your soul. All lightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks. She's divine.

"A well-worth sacrifice, don't you think?" Wednesday ducks her head, partly hiding herself behind her bangs after she says it.

A year ago, when she first stepped foot in Nevermore, she promised she wouldn't get attached or fall in love.

For a little over two months, her growing feelings for you have been proving her wrong.

Hidden behind closed doors and dark corners, you managed to get her cold heart beating harder than ever.

She despises it, and at the same time, can't get enough of it.

You bring a hand up, your thumb brushing away the smudged lipstick on the corner of Wednesday's lips.

She leans the tiniest bit toward your touch against her own volition, her nails making half-moons on your skin.

"You're a bad influence on me, Addams."

You can feel the shape of her smirk under your fingertips.

"It's what I do best."

—

Once a year, Nevermore's hallways gain a burst of color to them. What usually is all dark wood and grey stones, takes on extra shades of pink and crimson red; paper hearts are stuck to the walls and roses cover the gardens of the school. All in time to strike a cupid's arrow through the student's hearts for valentine's day.

You walk beside Bianca on the quad, smiling softly at the pink ribbons that decorate the outside area.

"I think I already regret offering to help with the roses," Bianca complains with a huff, "valentine's day is only tomorrow and we already have more than one hundred of them to deliver."

Her frustration makes you chuckle, an 'I told you so' lingers on your tongue yet you refrain from saying it. "Look on the bright side, you're helping to spread the spirit of love," you tease.

The siren scoffs. She comes to a stop in front of a red table, 'Nevermore's roses' is written on the bulletin board just above it in cut-out pink letters.

It's a tradition as much as it is a popularity contest in the school. Every year, students would send their crushes a red rose; some are bold enough to write a note declaring their love, some prefer to remain anonymous.

Bianca received more than ten roses last year. You got one, but Enid's proud smile had let you know it was just her attempting to soothe your heart; not a secret admirer.

"When are you gonna tell me to deliver your rose?" It's Bianca's turn to tease you, a grin playing on her glossy lips.

"Not today, that's for sure," you cross your arms over your chest, gaze skimming over the quad until it lands on a certain Addams girl; she's glaring at the colorful ribbons that adorn the walls as if they just committed unspeakable crimes.

You find yourself unwillingly smiling just at the sight of her.

Bianca catches your staring, she leans in closer to your ear, "I bet she would swoon."

You push her away, giggles escaping your lips and heat coming to your cheeks, "shut up."

Bianca joins in on your laughter, both of you unaware of watchful dark eyes on you from the other side of the quad.

—

It's in times like these, that Wednesday realizes that you've softened her.

Her pinkie is hooked with yours. You gently swing your joined hands back and forth. Your eyes are mostly focused on the sky, on the trees of the park, or on the buildings you see as you walk through Jericho's streets.

You drag Wednesday with you when you bend down to pat a dog or walk a little quicker to point out a pretty bird. No matter what, you don't let go of her.

Wednesday should be annoyed. In the beginning, she wanted to be. But she's not, and as the days go by, she's made her peace with the fact that you have the power to soften her.

She has never craved someone's presence, until she had a taste of yours. It's something Wednesday will take to the grave with her, but she secretly cherishes these little moments.

You end up stopping at the Weathervane for coffee as a light drizzle starts falling outside.

You sit down at the booth first, and Wednesday hesitates for a beat before deciding to sit beside you and not in front of you.

She orders coffee. You order hot chocolate. It's peaceful.

After you take the first sip, Wednesday feels your pointer finger tapping her thigh, and maybe that's why you're her exception. You don't push, you don't force, you're willing to love her the way she likes to be loved.

And no one can love Wednesday the way that you do.

It's new, and her chest still tightens in anticipation; but Wednesday turns her hand anyway, palm up, telling you it's okay.

Your fingers thread between hers, intertwining your hands together in a tender grip. Your thumb brushes her skin, and you lift her hand to your lips, placing a feather-like kiss on her knuckles.

Wednesday feels the warmth of your breath.

She loves to be loved by you.

When Wednesday is just a sip away from finishing her coffee, she finally breaks the silence; "what were you and Bianca talking about earlier?"

"Hm?" You turn to look at her, not sure what she's referring to.

Wednesday gulps down the remains of the bitterness of coffee still on her tongue, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable under your gaze. "Today in the quad, you were laughing."

"Oh," you recall with a faint smile, "it was nothing, we were just talking about the valentine's day tradition."

Right. Wednesday furrows her brows in thought, subconsciously squeezing your hand. That ridiculous tradition.

She never cared for it. Valentine's day was pathetic in her eyes and any traditions that came with it usually made her sick to her stomach.

But this year there's a break in the pattern. You.

"Do you care for it?" Wednesday finds herself asking.

"Valentine's day?" You purse your lips, shaking your head softly, "kinda? Not much. Bianca does though, and she thinks I should too."

Wednesday inhales sharply, you see her blinking a couple of times. Too many emotions swim behind her eyes for you to put a finger in any of them.

She can be fragile sometimes. It's rare, but it happens. She's been hurt once, the fear still lingers like a poorly healed scar. You think that's the reason why whatever you are to each other, doesn't have a name yet.

—

It's that look in Wednesday's eyes that makes you sneak out the night before valentine's day. You don't care about labels, but you do care that Wednesday knows what she means to you.

You find yourself going to the greenhouse, praying to every higher entity that no one sees you or Weems would never let you live this down. You rummage through the many rows of plants for the one that always reminds you of the raven-haired girl.

Next, you find Bianca, she opens her dorm room door for you with an annoyed tilt to her brows. She's in her pajamas and was clearly ready to go to bed. But this can't wait.

"Sorry," you utter quietly, sweaty hands tight around your flower, "but I think you were right."

Bianca's gaze shifts from you to the flower you're holding; Wednesday's name is tied around it with a black ribbon and hurried writing on paper so it doesn't get mixed up when the students go to deliver all the anonymous roses at the end of class. A knowing smirk comes to Bianca's lips as she rolls her eyes endearingly.

"Though, I think this one would be more fitting," you can feel heat coming up to your cheeks as you extend the flower to her.

It'll break the tradition, but she's worth it.

—

The next morning couldn't have dawned soon enough. It should be a day like any other, but you can't help the fluttery on your chest as you skip down the stairs of your dorm.

Wednesday is waiting for you just beside the doors that lead to the quad, in your own little private space, just shy of meeting the curious eyes of your peers. Her hands are buried in her pockets as she leans on the wall, her leather backpack resting by her feet. She straightens her posture when her eyes find yours.

You think she feels it too, the shift in the mood.

You stop in front of her, taking in her neatly made braids, the tie that's just a little loose around her neck, and her big doe eyes. Your fingers itch to hold her. "Hi Wednesday," you breathe in adoration.

The corner of Wednesday's lips tilt up in the ghost of a smile, her nimble fingers reach out to hold your jaw so she can press a gentle kiss to your lips.

Contrary to what others might think, her love is always tender. Your hands find her waist, tugging her body closer to yours in an embrace as you reciprocate her affection by pressing your lips firmly to hers; and you feel her melt against you.

And it's in the way that you are able to strip her of her defenses, that Wednesday sees her lingering piece of hesitance; the reason she avoids naming what you have together. Saying things out loud means making them real.

If she tells you just what you do to her, she's allowing you to break her if you ever leave.

But maybe you'll prove her wrong on that too, and she hates to admit that part of her longs for it.

—

It's after lunch that Wednesday seeks you out again, a bit of urgency tugging at her heartstrings quickens her steps.

She's able to hear her own heartbeat in her ears as she has a staring contest with the door that leads to your room. Her skin is hot and prickly under her clothes because of how fast she walked, or maybe it's because of what she's thinking about doing.

Three soft knocks sound on your door, and she waits with bated breath.

You turn the doorknob to see Wednesday on the other side, she has one hand behind her back and the other holds a Black Dahlia; the one you choose.

You bite back a smile.

"Bianca delivered this to me after class," Wednesday tells you, raising a brow, "told me to be nice."

Her tone gets you chuckling, "for the record, I didn't ask her to say that," you tell her.

Wednesday hesitates — she seems to do that a lot around you — her lips hovering before any words come out. The orange light of the hallway is casting a golden glow on her. "So it was you?"

You nod timidly, gesturing for her to come in. When she does, you close the door to your dorm, and the familiar bubble of intimacy finally settles around you.

"I know you don't care about today," you start, your hands already slick with perspiration. "But I wanted you to know how I feel anyway."

Wednesday catches the hidden words in the way you're looking at her; the 'you're it for me, it's you and no one else' that goes unsaid.

No one has ever looked at her the way that you do.

A beat passes, a beat where, for the first time, she hopes you can see what she doesn't say too. Because what Wednesday feels for you, she doesn't feel for anyone else.

She stiffly extends her hand to you — the one that's been behind her back since she arrived — holding out a little sunflower for you to take. She refuses to meet your eyes, her usually pale cheeks and the tip of her ears now burning a soft shade of pink.

Wednesday clears her throat, clearly bothered that you're not taking the flower and she has to say it; "I don't need other people to deliver mine."

Your heart melts. You both broke tradition.

Gentle as ever, you take the flower from her, your eyes crinkling on the sides because of your smile. You bring it to your nose to feel the perfume, humming appreciatively.

You take a step closer to her, your socked feet bumping her boots. You hear the catch on her breath when you push aside a few strands of her fringe, your fingers lingering on her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"You're growing soft, Wednesday Addams," you had to tease.

A glare is thrown your way, her features hardening the slightest bit. It gets you smiling more, you lean up to plant a kiss on her forehead and delight in the fact that she tries to follow when you pull away. "Thank you," you whisper.

Just say it. Wednesday urges herself, shooting down her ego and the unpleasing twist in her stomach at the prospect of voicing her wishes. She grasps your free hand with hers then.

"I would-" the words feel heavy on Wednesday's tongue, but she forces them out before any second thoughts could take them from her;

"I'd like to call you mine… If you'd like to call me yours too?"

And now you're just looking at her wide-eyed, your grip on her hand becoming slack. You're not speaking, you're not moving. Wednesday doubts you're even breathing.

She shifts uncomfortably in her stance, feeling smaller by the second under your eyes. It's unnerving.

"You don't want this," Wednesday mumbles, and she despises the way her voice cracks in the middle of her sentence.

In the same heartbeat, you finally answer; "I want this," your hold on her hand returns and you tug her closer still, "I really do."

Wednesday blinks a couple of times until her eyes can find a place to focus on your face. She gulps; "don't make me regret it." It's supposed to be a threat, but it sounds more like a plea.

Your forehead rests against hers, her fringe tickling your skin as you feel her soft breathing ghost over your lips.

"I would never."

Wednesday feels more than hears your words over her lips. And she believes you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @simp4wanda26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @thenextdawn @trishatheotaku

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Forgotten Nest (Part 2) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 4.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles; Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: The Daggers start preparing for the mission. Rooster does some searching. Nickie keeps another secret from his mom.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Master List

Maverick stepped out onto the tarmac with his helmet in hand. Bradley was a few paces ahead of him and Maverick picked up his pace to catch up to the younger aviator. After watching Bradley’s reaction to his arrival and his briefing, Maverick knew that Bradley was still holding tightly to the past. And that could only lead to issues.

In the air anyways.

“Bradley,” Maverick called out to him. Bradley didn’t pause or turn around, continuing on his way as if Maverick was just a stray bird flying through. “Bradley!” Still no response. Quickly getting to the end of his rope, Maverick barked out, “Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

That seemed to get Bradley to finally turn around. Rooster stood tall with his shoulders squared, looking like he was preparing to tell a crack head to fuck off more than talk with the man who helped raise him.  Maverick stopped in front of him, noting how Rooster’s jaw clenched and unclenched.

“Yes, sir,” Rooster returned mockingly.

“Let’s not do it like this,” Maverick sighed, causing Rooster to look away for a moment.

“You gonna wash me out?” Rooster asked, turning back to Maverick.

“That’ll be up to you. Not me,” Maverick replied calmly.

“Am I dismissed?” Rooster grunted out after a moment, itching to get into his cockpit already.

Maverick’s jaw ticked with annoyance. There was plenty more that he wanted to say to Bradley. Plenty more. But he couldn’t say any of that without giving away Nickie’s existence. And even though Maverick had his own opinions about the situation between his daughter and Rooster, Nickie was her son and it was her decision at the end of the day how she wanted to deal with Bradley. Not his.

“Keep your head on out there,” was all Maverick stated before Rooster stormed off.

Maverick watched Rooster walk off, his jaw ticking with annoyance yet again before he turned for his own plane. Climbing up into the cockpit, Maverick went through his pre-flight checks. Unzipping one of the pockets in his flight suit, Maverick pulled out a singular photo and quickly taped it to the side of his cockpit, out of the way of the dials.

Cora, dressed in her college graduation attire, beamed at the camera with Nickie, who was just about to turn six, perched on her hip with her cap on his head. Cora was holding her son like he was the prize, like he was her diploma. Ice and Sarah stood to one side of Cora and Nickie and Maverick stood to the other with Penny, who had Amelia in her arms, standing right beside him.

It was truly a moment of triumph for Cora—graduating college even though she had a baby on her own at eighteen. Maverick was so proud of her and it was all written in the tear tracks that were drying on his cheeks in the photo. He had been so worried that Cora would get stuck—through no fault of her own—and never go to college or any kind of training.

But she did it. Despite the odds, she did it.

Glancing over at where Rooster was preparing to take off for the training exercises, Maverick forced himself to steel his emotions. He wouldn’t let Bradley’s undoubtedly petty drama from close to seventeen years ago to influence him now. He had a mission and he had six aviators that he had to train to complete that mission.

But that reminder still stuck with him—if Bradley was any other guy on the planet, Maverick never would have shown him mercy. Not for what he did to Cora and Nickie.

~~~~~

Rooster sat out on the tarmac for another good fifteen minutes after Phoenix gave up on trying to snap some sense into him. He told her that he was fine, that he had it handled. And even though she didn’t look like she believed him, Phoenix left him be.

That was why their friendship worked so well—they knew when to leave each other alone. And right now, Rooster really needed to be alone with his thoughts.

He wasn’t expecting Maverick to be in Miramar. Not like this, at the very least. There was always a chance that Maverick would be in Miramar to see or be around Cora. Rooster had partially prepared himself to run into Maverick in the grocery store or on a drive around town. But on base? As his instructor? Rooster wasn’t prepared for that.

And what the hell was Maverick doing as an instructor at Top Gun? Didn’t they learn their lesson the first time around? It had Ice written all over it. Rooster would have bet every penny to his name that Ice was somehow involved in this scheme.

Focusing on his breathing to calm down, Rooster eventually picked himself up off the tarmac and started trudging for the locker room. It was empty when he arrived and Rooster wasted no time in stripping down, showering, and changing out of his flight suit.  Pulling out his wallet, Rooster slowly unfolded it and reached into one of the card holder slips.

He pulled out a simple piece of paper that looked like it had been ripped from a larger page. It came from one of the letters that Cora sent him years ago. Maybe seven or so after he left. He hadn’t kept the rest of the letter, which was just Cora begging for him to forgive Maverick and come back to Miramar, but he kept the end of it because of two important pieces of information.

Cora’s phone number. And her address.

Now, Rooster wasn’t sure if either of them were still accurate. She could have changed her number—he did, after all—and she could have easily moved. And his attempts to do research on Google didn’t really get him anywhere with either her address or her number.

Rooster wanted to try and verify them before he reached out, knowing that he had about half of a first impression to probably convince Cora to talk to him. And he was pretty sure that showing up at the wrong house or calling the wrong number wasn’t going to do him any favors.

Picking up his keys, Rooster closed the door to his locker and headed out of the locker room.

~~~~~

Nickie walked out of school late, having stayed late to try and get his pre-calc grade up a little bit more. Looking around for his mom’s car, Nickie paused when he heard the familiar hum of the Kawasaki. The mischievous smile that he definitely inherited from his grandfather quickly tugged at Nickie’s lips as he watched the Kawasaki roll around the corner.  

Maverick waved to Nickie and slowly came to a stop in front of him. Nickie walked quickly over to his grandfather, ignoring some of the incredulous looks thrown in his direction. Maverick set up the kickstand and slipped off the Kawasaki, turning to greet his grandson.

“I thought that Mom was supposed to pick me up,” Nickie stated, though he wasn’t complaining.

“Apparently, they’re running late over at the office with all their appointments,” Maverick replied, taking Nickie’s backpack from him. “And I had the time.”

“Does Mom know that you’re picking me up on your bike?” Nickie asked as Maverick securely strapped down his backpack.

“Well, she never specified which vehicle I had to pick you pu in,” Maverick returned jokingly. Tugging on the straps that secured Nickie’s backpack to test them, Maverick turned back to his grandson. “But you know the rule.”

Maverick held out a helmet to Nickie, who quickly took it and put it on without complaint. His mom ingrained in him from a very young age to never get on a bike without a helmet. Unfortunately, in Cora’s opinion, that teaching didn’t seem to move up generations. Maverick climbed on first and Nickie climbed on after him. Nickie held tight to and turned to see several students staring at him.

“Hey,” Nickie called, waving at them.

“Don’t even think about it,” Maverick warned his grandson, noting the girls that Nickie was waving at.

Maverick started the engine and shook his head before starting off down the road. Nickie clung to his grandfather as they drove along far slower than Maverick would go if he was by himself. It didn’t take long, however, for Nickie to realize that they weren’t heading home.

“Where are we going?” Nickie called over the wind.

“I need to make a pit stop on my way home,” Maverick yelled back to Nickie.

“Where?”

“The Hard Deck. I owe Penny some money!”

“I think that you owe her more than that!” Nickie shouted, causing Maverick to frown.

“Have you been listening in on your mom’s conversations again?”

“What!? I can’t hear you!?” Nickie yelled loudly, causing Maverick to chuckle and shake his head.

“Good answer.”

A quick ten minutes later and the two Mitchells pulled up to the Hard Deck. Maverick parked towards the front door and turned off the Kawasaki. Nickie got off first and pulled his helmet off. Running a hand through his short curls, which caused Maverick’s gut to tighten after watching Rooster do something similar that morning, Nickie moved to undo his backpack from the straps.

Maverick led the way inside the Hard Deck, which was left unlocked. Nickie broke off from his grandfather’s side to hang up his helmet on one of the hooks by the door. Maverick headed into the main area of the bar and smiled when he spotted the guard dog on duty.

“Hey, Theo,” Maverick called, bending down to greet the lazy dog. “You’ve gotten big.”

“Hey, Mav,” Amelia greeted him, causing Maverick to slowly stand up.

“Amelia?” he asked, taking off his sunglasses in disbelief.

“I know, I got big,” Amelia replied, already turning back to her homework.

“Hey, Amelia,” Nickie returned, walking into the room a couple seconds after his grandfather.

Amelia glanced up with surprise at the sound of Nickie’s voice. Nickie was a year ahead of Amelia and he was one of the first kids around her age that she met when her and her mom moved to Miramar from Hawaii after her parent’s divorce. Cora always told Nickie to look out for Amelia and that seemed to continue even though they were both nearing the end of high school.

“Hey, Nickie,” Amelia responded in a softer tone than she used with Mav. But as Maverick walked around the bar, Amelia quickly focused on her homework again. “Bar opens at five.”

“No, I just came by to pay off a debt I—”

“—Mom!” Amelia immediately called, causing Nickie to hide a smirk behind his hand.

“Hey, how’s your dad?” Maverick asked, trying to fill the silence.

Nickie, almost as a reflex, reached out and smacked his grandfather on the arm, earning an incredulous look from Maverick. When Nickie shot him a look that screamed ‘shut up before you get hurt,’ Maverick stared at his grandson with a confused expression.

“What?”

“With his wife. In Hawaii. Mom!” Amelia yelled louder than before, causing Nickie to wince, his point proven. Penny walked through the door to the back of the bar at her daughter’s annoyed call, causing Maverick and Nickie to turn around. “Mav says he owes you money.”

Maverick held out a wad of cash to Penny, who immediately tried to refuse it. And Nickie quietly wondered how his grandfather wracked up such a tab on a single night. He wouldn’t have disrespected a lady and certainly not the Navy. So, he must have left his phone, which Nickie set up for him, on the bar. Like Nickie’s mom warned him not to do.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Penny insisted, but Maverick held the money out to her again.

“I insist.”

Nickie shared a look with Amelia, who stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes as Penny instantly softened and took the wad of cash from Maverick. Nickie glanced up and around at the photos and memorabilia hung up round the bar, fighting a knowing smirk.

“Thank you, Captain. Consider your tab closed,” Penny stated, heading around the bar to deposit the money in the till.

“Captain? Still?” Amelia asked Maverick.

“She’s got you there,” Nickie replied, turning to his grandfather.

“A highly decorated captain,” Maverick stated, knowing that Amelia and Nickie were just teasing him.

“Finish up,” Penny told her daughter, leaning on the bar top and tapping the top of Amelia’s book. “We have to get the boat to the yard.”

“I can’t go,” Amelia replied, causing Penny to frown.

“What do you mean you can’t go?”

“Test tomorrow. I have to study. They only told us today,” Amelia explained, causing Penny to raise an eyebrow at her daughter.

“Mr. Lissette’s class?” Nickie guessed, causing Amelia to turn to him.

“How’d you know?”

“Because he did that at least fourteen times last year when I took his class,” Nickie replied, corroborating Amelia’s story to her mom.

“Well, I can’t sail her alone,” Penny continued, turning back to her daughter.

“Just use the engine.”

“Why’re we taking her to the yard?” Penny asked, shooting her daughter a look.

“To fix the engine,” the two Benjamin women recited together.

“We can help,” Maverick offered, volunteering himself and Nickie for service.

“But he’s grounded,” Penny stated, pointing over at Nickie, who winced in reply.

“You know about the ticket?” he asked, cracking his eyes open slowly.

“There’s not much in this town that I don’t know about,” Penny replied, straightening up.

“And your mom told her,” Amelia explained, causing Nickie to sigh.

“I’m never going to live that down,” Nickie whined, rubbing his face.

“Well, considering your driving instructor,” Penny drawled, glancing over at Maverick, “I’m surprised that it wasn’t worse.”

“I’m a great driver,” Maverick insisted, causing Penny to scoff teasingly.

“Mom can just pick me up after work,” Nickie offered, causing Maverick and Penny to turn to him. “And I know that she wouldn’t mind taking Amelia home.”

“Alright,” Penny stated, tapping her fingers on the bar top. Walking around the bar, Penny grabbed her keys and turned to Maverick. “Get moving, Sailor.” As Maverick turned to lead the way out of the bar, Penny turned to Nickie and Amelia. “Jimmy is in charge. And don’t forget Theo.”

“Mom, we’ll be fine,” Amelia insisted, already looking back down at her homework.

“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do,” Maverick directed at Nickie. “And definitely don’t do anything that I would do.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Nickie replied, mock-saluting his grandfather.

Penny and Maverick headed out of the bar as Nickie walked over to where Amelia was sitting. Setting his bag down on the bar, Nickie pulled out his pre-calc textbook and started on the problems that he left off on with his math teacher just a few minutes earlier.

“You stayed late again?” Amelia asked, glancing over at his homework.

“Trying to get my grade up,” Nickie explained, copying one of the problems from the textbook.

“Is your mom grounding you for that too?”

“No, just the ticket,” Nickie sighed, turning to Amelia. “Does everyone know about it?”

“Well, your mom called my mom about the whole thing last night. She was wondering if a month was too harsh of a punishment, since you already paid it off yourself.”

“And?” Nickie pressed, hope building in his chest.

“My mom said that it was fair.”

Nickie let out a groan and slumped against the bar top, causing Amelia to laugh. Shifting in her seat, she turned to face Nickie fully on the bar stool and poked him on the shoulder.

“It’s your own fault. Everyone knows that cops like to hang out under that underpass.”

“I forgot,” Nickie sighed, shaking his head at himself. Forgetting his pre-calc homework for a moment, he turned to face Amelia. “My mom freaked out.”

“She’s probably worried that you’re turning into Mav,” Amelia stated before quickly trying to retract her sentence. Suddenly sheepishly, she stammered out, “I didn’t mean it like that, just that—”

“—No, no, I get it,” Nickie assured her, knowing that she meant no harm. Turning back to his textbook, Nickie picked up his pencil and started writing again. “And, hey, you have to protect your mom. I get it. Really, I do.”

“Is your mom still going out with that Neil guy?” Amelia asked curiously, causing Nickie to snort.

“No. I don’t know why she was with him in the first place.”

“My mom seemed to like him.”

“Your mom’s just nice,” Nickie brushed off, scribbling away at his homework. “He was boring as hell. And my mom might freak out about me or my granddad doing dangerous or stupid stuff, but she would have died of boredom if she stayed in that relationship.”

“Have you ever liked one of your mom’s boyfriends?”

“Of the three that I’ve met? Hard no,” Nickie stated, shaking his head. “Have you?”

Amelia glanced in the direction that Maverick and Penny left in, which caused Nickie to straighten up a bit more. Setting down his pencil, he turned to face Amelia.

“I’m sorry that he brought up your dad.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Amelia lied, waving her hand to the side, as if to dismiss Nickie’s concern. “Besides, Mav was there for more of my birthdays than my actual dad. I counted. So, I guess he’s entitled to a slip up.”

“Yeah, he does seem to be filling in a lot,” Nickie murmured, mostly to himself.

Amelia turned to Nickie with a confused expression when the door the Hard Deck opened again. Nickie instantly picked his head up and stood up from his chair when he spotted a stranger entering the bar. Theo had moved to sit in the sun, but he rolled over to stare at the new arrival.

Rooster slowly stepped into the Hard Deck, glancing around for Penny, when he spotted two teenagers sitting at the bar. Nickie walked around the bar a bit, eyeing up Rooster as if he was trying to discern the level of threat that Rooster posed to him and Amelia. Rooster stopped at the front of the bar, noticing Nickie’s defensive posture.

“Can we help you?” Nickie asked calmly, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Bar opens at five.”

“No, I know. I was just wondering if Penny was around,” Rooster explained quietly.

Rooster eyed Nickie curiously, feeling like he had seen the teenager somewhere before. Hell, Nickie was probably just a local kid that Rooster had seen on the boardwalk the day before. But Rooster wasn’t even convinced with his own explanation. Not really. There was just something that was scratching at the back of his head about the teenager.

Nickie viewed Rooster as nothing other than an intruder. Amelia clearly didn’t recognize Rooster, so he obviously wasn’t a close friend of Penny’s. Theo wasn’t reacting harshly to Rooster, but Nickie was also pretty sure that Theo only barked after the fact. And, well, his mom stuck it in his head very early on to always be aware of his surroundings and the people occupying them.

Amelia froze a bit in her seat, glancing in between Nickie and Rooster, and noting the similarities in their appearances. They had the same nose. And the same chin. Rooster was taller and far more built than the teenager, but Amelia didn’t doubt that Nickie would get there eventually. Their hair looked to be a similar texture. And hell, were their eyebrows also that similar?

“She’s not here. Jimmy’s here, though, if you have some kind of . . .” Nickie eyed Rooster suspiciously before meeting his gaze again, “. . . business question.”

“No, no,” Rooster replied, already backing away.

Well, there went that plan. Not that he was expecting Penny to give him a concrete answer. Not without getting to dump a drink on top of his head first, at least, since Rooster knew that Penny and Cora were still close to this day.

“Sorry to bother you.”

Nickie nodded firmly and watched as Rooster left the Hard Deck. Slowly sliding towards the door, Nickie subtly locked it before walking around to watch Rooster drive off. It took some time because Rooster kept staring back at the Hard Deck with an odd expression, he eventually hopped back into the Bronco and took off, heading in the direction of the naval base.

“Who the hell was that?” Nickie asked Amelia, who stared at him with a bit of disbelief.

“What?” she questioned, blinking rapidly.

“Did you know who that was?”

You mean the guy who looks freakishly similar to you?

That was what Amelia wanted to say. But then she remembered what her mom told her about Mitchell boys. Their heart was always in the right place. Their brain on the other hand . . . sometimes it wasn’t exactly where it should be.

“No, I don’t,” Amelia settled on, glancing between Nickie and the window again. “Do you?”

“No,” Nickie replied, as if it was obvious. “And who the hell has a mustache anymore?”

~~~~~

“Bye, Amelia!” Cora called, waving to the Benjamin girl as she hopped out of the car.

“Bye, Cora. Thanks for the ride!”

“Any time!”

Amelia shut the door behind her and grabbed Theo’s leash before heading inside her house. Cora waited until Amelia was safely inside with the door shut behind her before pulling away from the curb. It was a short drive between the Benjamins and the Mitchells even with the afternoon traffic.

“How was pre-calc extra help?” Cora questioned, turning onto the main road.

“It helped. He’s bumping up my grade on the last test, so I’m getting closer to an A.”

“And while I’m very happy about how seriously you’re taking your studies, don’t worry if you don’t get an A. Everyone says that pre-calc is difficult,” Cora assured her son, keeping her eyes trained on the road in front of her.

“I know, Mom. I just want to do well for my college apps,” Nickie stated, glancing out the window.

“Speaking of which, you need to give me a list of colleges that you want to see during Spring Break so that I can take the time off work and we can sign up for tours,” Cora replied, causing Nickie to subtly sink into his seat. “Especially if you wanted to see ones farther away.”

“Like the East Coast?” Nickie approached the subject, causing Cora to pause for a moment.

“If you want,” Cora replied softly, glancing over at Nickie. “What schools did you have in mind?”

“Nothing specific,” Nickie lied, staring out the window again. “There’s just a lot of good schools out there, you know.” 

“Okay,” Cora trailed off, raising an eyebrow at her son. “Well, you still have time. Just something to think about once in a while.”

“Yeah . . .” Nickie agreed, looking forward. Cora continued to drive down the road as Nickie slowly turned to look at his mom. “Sean asked me about the Surf Team again.”

“What about it?”

“Just about try outs are and everything,” Nickie stated, causing Cora to nod slowly. “Mom.”

“What?” Cora asked, shooting her son a look.

“You’re doing that thing where you pretend like you agree with me but you actually don’t but you don’t want to say it because you don’t want to play the bad guy all day,” Nickie complained, causing Cora to sigh. Slowly coming to a halt at the next light, Cora turned to Nickie as he continued. “Why can’t I join the surf team? You put me in surf lessons, remember?”

“I remember, Nickie,” Cora sighed, fiddling with her fingers.

“So, why do you always pull that face when I talk about the surf team?” Nickie asked as the light flashed green in front of them.

“I don’t pull a face,” Cora huffed, earning a groan from her son. “It’s just . . . Nickie, why are you so obsessed with being in the water lately? I mean, when you quit basketball that was one thing because—and I love you and support you, sweetie—but you weren’t the best at that.”

“Mom.”

“I mean, you had the height but none of the hand to eye coordination,” Cora continued, causing Nickie to pout and slump in his seat. “And soccer, well, you always seemed to just do that because your friends were doing it.”

“So?”

“But baseball?” Cora emphasized, turning to her son with a concerned expression. “Nickie, you love baseball. It’s been your favorite sport for forever.”

“I can like new things,” Nickie defended himself.

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t, but . . .” Cora pulled down a side street and came to a slow stop at the stop sign a couple hundred feet down the road. Glancing over at her son for a moment, Cora asked, “Is there something that you’re not telling me?”

“Mom, I just want to surf because I’m good at it,” Nickie half-lied, half-told the truth. He glanced out the window as Cora continued to drive them home. “I just don’t want to sit on JV as a junior.”

“There’s no shame in that. They only need so many catchers on varsity.”

“I know, but . . .” Nickie trailed off, trying to come up with something to appease his mom’s concern, “. . . but what if I can get a scholarship for it? Or for swimming or water polo and surfing helps me stay in shape for that?”

“Why are you worried about a scholarship?” Cora asked before growing more serious. Pulling into their driveway, Cora parked the car before turning to her son. “Nickie, you know how I feel about you worrying about money.”

“I know, Mom,” Nickie replied softly, guilt eating away at his gut.

“You just focus on being a kid for now, okay?” Cora stated, grabbing her son’s shoulder gently. “Please?”

“I will, Mom.”

“Good. You hungry?” Cora asked, reaching for her purse.

“Yeah,” Nickie murmured out, trying to not suffocate himself from how bad he felt for lying straight through his teeth to his mom.

“Alright. I think I’ll just make something simple tonight,” Cora stated, causing Nickie to nod.

They walked inside the house together and Nickie headed to his room. Setting his bag on the ground, Nickie squatted down and let out a breath. Slumping slightly, Nickie unzipped his backpack and pulled out his science textbook. He flipped through a few pages before pulling out a pamphlet that he got at lunch with ‘NAVY’ printed at the top of it.

If and when he ever told his mom the school that he wanted to attend . . . Nickie was starting to worry that it was going to kill her.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

A.N. A special thank you to everyone who read and either commented or reblogged the first part! It's the most actual interaction I've had on a fic in a long time and it really motivated me to churn Part 2 out!

[Also, I forgot to put a note at the end of Part 1 about tagging, so I just tagged the peeps that asked, but if you want to be tagged in Part 3, just reply or reblog with a comment, but please have your age in your bio/pinned post or I won't tag you. Thanks again!]

Tags: @xoxabs88xox @eternallyvenus

#tgm #top gun #tgm fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw x oc #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell

[souperbloom]

the way things go. [A.I.]

title from the song the way things go by beebadoobee

ex boyfriend!ash

part 1 of 2 | random little post breakup angst.

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this so i thought i’d give it a try— let me know what you think :) there will be a part 2 but im still unsure of what direction to take this in so if you have any suggestions feel free to drop them in my inbox!

no major cws, just a brief mention of drinking & vibes. ☻

WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You around?

Sent. 2:58am

An odd buzzing from beneath your pillow stirred you awake from the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks. Your phone buzzed once and just like that, you were awake? Couldn’t be. It had to have been some sort of sixth sense.

Call me. I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

The silk pillowcase cradled your cheek as the buzzing continued. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Baby, please.

Sent. 2:59am

I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

So much.

Sent. 3:00am

It wasn’t long before the incessant buzzing frustrated you to the point of reaching beneath your pillow and yanking your phone out from under it. The harsh light made your eyes water and burn, but the notifications on the screen made them ache even more.

ASHTON: 5 New Messages.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.

What was once a fluttering feeling in your chest, seeing his name sprawled across the screen, turned abruptly into agony. You didn’t think it would be so soon— him reaching out to you. It had been a month, almost to the day, since you and Ashton had called your three and a half year relationship quits. Things were serious enough to bring marriage into the question and suddenly, one random Tuesday night, it all came crashing down. He told you that it wasn’t you, that it was him, that it was the right person at the wrong time and all of the other painfully worn out cliches. To think that you even considered marrying him at all.

A crazy thought at three in the morning.

And even crazier when you thought about him texting you in the middle of the night. After a month of no contact.

have you been drinking?

Sent. 3:01 am

Your thumbs twiddle quickly and hit send, waiting for those three little deathly bubbles to pop up and confirm that no, you weren’t dreaming and yes, he was anxiously awaiting your reply.

ASHTON

Maybe. Maybe not.

Sent. 3:01am

His response makes you grumble; Ashton was absolutely insufferable— and even more so when inebriated. You didn’t want to deal with him right now, it was in your best interest to just ignore him and fight the thought of him right back to sleep.

But something inside of you wasn’t allowing this to be that easy.

go to bed.

Sent. 3:02am

ASHTON

Not until you’re in it.

Sent. 3:02am

that made no sense.

Sent. 3:02am

Why was it so difficult to put your phone down?

ASHTON

I don’t give a shit. I miss you.

Sent. 3:03am

You were far too tired to be entertaining his stupid desires at such an odd hour of the evening. The time was one thing, but the fact that he was drinking was an entirely new fish to fry. You knew that your actions had consequences, and those consequences were something you’d have to deal with in the morning.

stop texting me.

Sent. 3:04am

Maybe he’ll get the hint.

ASHTON

Come over?

Sent. 3:04am

Okay. Maybe not.

Your bottom lip had gone raw from the amount of biting you’d been doing to it recently, and it had yet to stop at all. It was a nervous habit you’d picked up after the breakup and you thought you were doing well at combating it by picking at your nail beds and twirling your hair— but now, these little ticks were coming out all at once.

You were a walking ball of nerves and haven’t been the same since that random Tuesday, almost a month ago.

no.

Sent. 3:05am

Look at you. Standing your ground. You were so proud of yourself.

ASHTON

Please?

Sent. 3:05am

fine.

Sent. 3:08am

Fuck.

The time it took for you to get yourself decent must’ve been some sort of world record. Because now, seemingly seconds later, you were in your car and hunched over your steering wheel. Taking deep breaths in as the cool leather pricked your balled up fists.

This fucking sucks.

You turned the key and the engine begrudgingly grumbled to a start. Even your car knew that this was a poor decision; sounding like it was about a five mile drive from completely giving up on you.

Lucky for you, Ashton’s house was only a mile away.

The dark winding road leading to Ashton’s driveway felt like an eternity. You were frigid at the thought of him sitting and waiting up for you, sitting on that deep mahogany leather couch with his head tossed back onto the cushions. His knee bobbing impatiently and the light of the TV making his face glow pale. A glass of whiskey, or whatever the fuck poison he picked nowadays, clutched in his hand and taking small sips until ice melted gradually and watered it down.

You hated how much you knew about him. How predictable he had become in your time being with him. You knew that whatever image your brain was conjuring up of him was probably true, down to the outfit he was wearing.

You didn’t bother texting him because you knew that the second his porch lights turned on, he’d be slouched against the doorframe waiting for you. As he always did. Your tires crunched against the gravel as you slowly pulled into his driveway; shaky hands and tired eyes working in tandem to park your car in the usual spot.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

The familiar voice pulls your gaze away from your slippers and just as expected, there he was.

His hair was a few inches longer, auburn and honeycomb waves colliding into a box-dyed mess. His roots were so much darker, after you had worked so hard on the touch ups and hours spent bent over the bathtub rinsing the bleach out to lighten his black dye job. All of that time was in vain.

There was an appropriate amount of stubble surrounding his cheeks, for the time you’d gone without seeing him. You were too busy admiring his face to notice that he was wearing the Keith Haring printed robe you had gifted him for Christmas.

You probably looked crazy.

“You asked me to come over,” you shrug, trying to make light of the situation.

“So… you came?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The tension rising was palpable, despite the tasteful three feet of distance between your bodies, and the only thing you could think about now was the way his mossy eyes sparkled beneath the porch lights.

“Well,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

You don’t say anything else after stepping over the threshold of the house you’d spent almost four years living in. Everything was the same. And you’d imagined it as so. To any normal person, a month wasn’t a terribly long time. But the time after a breakup all seems to mesh into one long day, since stepping into his house for the final time to grab your things felt like it was yesterday.

The guitars still mounted to the wall and decorated art pieces that hung to and fro reminded you of all of the effort you’d spent making this house into a home.

“Is Calum here?” you ask about his best friend and roommate, trying to pay attention to anything else in the room but him.

“Nope. He’s out.”

“Cool.”

Ashton moves around the living room with ease, unperturbed by your presence as he glides over to the connected kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“No. Don’t plan on crashing here, if that’s what you were expecting.”

He lets out a wry chuckle at your attempt to be stern, “I wasn’t expecting anything. Just— trying to be a polite host.”

“Yeah well,” you sigh, flopping back onto that old leather couch, “You don’t have to act like I’m some stranger.”

“Stranger?” he quizzes, opening the door to his fridge as his disembodied voice echoes behind you, “What makes you think I’d treat you like a stranger?”

Your shoulders tense up at his soft words, Ashton rounds the corner back into the livingroom to join you on the couch. He hands you a glass of apple juice, and you take it.

“Thanks,” you murmur, the thought of him keeping a bottle of apple juice in the fridge for you sending a chill down your spine. Despite making fun of you for it, he always remembered that it was your favorite.

“So…” he begins, shifting on the couch to face your slouched body.

You glance over at his posture, and the familiarity of it all was making your head hurt. To think that the way someone chose to sit on a couch was causing you so much grief felt unnatural.

“...How have you been?”

“Fine. Just— living. I suppose that’s all I could really ask for.”

“Living, huh? Sounds fun. Better than dying. If you said you were dying I’d definitely be a little less excited about you showing up here. Walking corpses are not as cool as they are on TV.”

The way Ashton constantly spoke in tongues drove you up the wall. “What the fuck are you even saying?”

“Sorry, I’ve— been watching a lot of TV recently. Also I, uh— had a bit to drink.”

Yeah, no shit.

A few more moments of deafening silence pass and ultimately confuse you. You aren’t sure how silence could be something so loud but alas, whenever you looked at, heard, or even thought of Ashton since that one Tuesday night, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own quickening heartbeat.

“Do you still have my cashmere sweater?” The thought pops into your mind randomly, as he takes a moment to admire you.

“I do. Did you want it back?”

That question pulls a dry chuckle out of you, “If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be asking for it.”

“Fair point. I know just where I left it, too— I’ll go get it.”

Ashton shifts to the edge of the couch to stand up, but stumbles back, due to whatever he had flowing in his system. He braces his ring-clad hands onto the leather and the metal adorning his knuckles tear down into it.

Glancing at those miscellaneous metal etchings and gemstones you’d gifted him makes you think about his infatuation with rings. And, his request for only eight of them.

Your mind flashes back to the anniversaries and milestones where he attempted to collect one for every finger. It could have been preference, or maybe he didn’t foresee enough milestones in which he’d acquire them—but you were never quite sure why he didn’t ask for ten.

He was weird in that way.

“You still wear your rings?” you ask, debating on biting your tongue after letting the question slip right out.

He stops in his tracks, as does your heart, “Of course I do. Why?”

“Dunno’,” you shrug, brushing your shoulder and letting your hand linger on your skin, “Just didn’t think you’d want to after everything.”

Ashton looks at you with intrigue; with purpose. He studies the hand of yours that had been left timidly resting on your forearm.

“Well, to ask you your own question; why wouldn’t I?”

His words hit you like a freight train and suddenly there’s a tightness in your chest that wasn’t there before. You were proud of yourself for being level headed— up until the moment you realized he was right; why wouldn’t he wear those rings?

Why wouldn’t you come over?

“Ashton?” The tightness in your chest was now spreading to your entire body, coating your limbs in this strange paralysis that always seemed to happen when you thought about him.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you, too.”

You don’t even get a moment to process how quickly you were straddling his lap, your crewneck riding up your back as his hands made an effort to explore you. The kiss was heated, sure, but you couldn’t tell if the resentment you felt towards him was meshing into your desires. Those soft little whimpers escaped his chest as you practically pinned him down onto the couch between your knees. You weren’t sure what came over you. Could’ve been his newly acquired taste for classical Hollywood cinema, or the fact that smelling his cologne felt like a breath of fresh air after a month spent locked in a tight little room.

“Ashton,” you mumble his name into his lips and they ricochet back onto yours.

“Oh, Y/N”, he hums, “How I’ve missed you, baby.”

Your tongues danced beneath the glowing of the silver screen, Casablanca being the most appropriate film to be on his television right now.

“I’ve–” your breath staggers, taking a moment to nip at his bottom lip, “I’ve missed you too. God fuckin’–”

The words you were meant to speak were entrapped by soft moans, as Ashton pulls you into his airy pajama pants. He holds you tightly, like he had never left.

“Do– do you–” He attempts to ask the question, the age-old question that had you rethinking your decision to come to his house in the first place.

“I don’t know…”

Your hand travels up to his hair and drags down to cup his cheek, the stubble slightly scratching at your palm and reminding yourself of the blisters that were left in the place of Ashton’s many, many attempts to teach you the drums. Two and a half years of consistent practice paid off.

“That’s okay,” he consoles, nuzzling his cheek into your hand, “We don’t have to do anything. We could just– lay here, y’know? Never minded it, still don’t.”

His answer surprises you. You nod and stutter, unable to form a coherent thought due to the warmth of his bare chest beneath his robe.

“Mmmh. You know what?— I change my mind.”

He chuckles, “Do you, now?”

“Yup. I want to. Gotta’ get whatever the fuck this is— out of my system.”

You couldn’t describe the way Ashton’s face morphed into that of a kicked puppy. The pain in your chest was blatantly obvious now, like a subtle pinprick every time the dim lights would catch the sparkle in his eyes.

“Out of your system?”

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that,” you say; an oxymoron of sorts. Since the elephant in the room started stomping around and now, you were straddling him and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“I guess I can’t disagree with you. I’ve been missing you a lot but— I don’t know, I can’t really place what I’m feeling.”

Your lip tugs to the side, as does his. Twin looks of confusion in an effort to read each other’s faces. “Let’s just— pick up where we left off? Maybe it’ll help get your mind off the existential dread.”

“Existential dread, huh? Is that what this feeling is?” he asks, his hands running up and down your spine beneath your crewneck.

“Yeah, sure,” you swallow hard, harder than you’d intended and you choke on your words, “We can call it that.”

He whispers your name softly and the chills start running down your body. His voice was the one thing you couldn’t get over; no matter how many nights you’d spent staring at the ceiling in an effort to change that. You’d hear him calling out to you every time the wind blew and hearing him say it right in front of you felt like a slap in the goddamn face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”

You hated to be so morbid and dry but in the end, it was true. If he had wanted to give apologies where they were due, they should’ve been said the moment he called it quits.

“I figured it’s better late than never. You deserve an apology for— everything that went on.”

Your face turns cherry red, a sudden wash of anger flushing over your cheeks. You push yourself off of his chest with a force that you didn’t even know you were capable of. He jerks back, awe-stricken at the sudden change.

“Oh fuck you Ash. You’re so full of shit,” you mutter, fueled with sudden rage, “If you really wanted to apologize you’d have been at my doorstep a month ago. You don’t care about me. You only care because I’m right in front of you and looking at me hurts too much for you to ignore it.”

“You think I don’t care about you?…”

Ashton’s voice cracks and suddenly you were feeling awful for blowing up unprovoked. The notch in his forehead grows deeper as he studies your infuriated face with sincerity.

“Y/N, of course I fucking care about you. Are you kidding me? I care about you more than anything in this world.”

Another one of those pinpricks tugs at your heartstrings.

“Then why did you let me go?”

Without a moment’s notice or any sort of explanation, Ashton pulls you back into his chest and slots his lips against yours. You don’t fight it. In fact, you embrace it. Another frenzied kiss of daring tongues and roaming hands against the places that felt so familiar to the both of you.

Just as the kiss goes rogue and his lips sloppily traipse down to your jaw, you feel a small droplet roll down your cheek. One that didn’t belong to you.

A quiet sob is preceded by a sentence that rips your heart out of your chest.

“I never wanted to. I never wanted to let you go.”

“Ashton,” you murmur, feeling your eyes welling up just the same, “I—I didn’t know—”

He interrupts your thought with a string of kisses down your neck towards your chest. His hands roam with fervor, feeling you up as though you were the last thing he would ever be allowed or able to touch. You embraced his blistered hands and the way they knew every crease and divot in your body, how effortless he was at drawing you back in.

“I never knew how to get you in front of me to actually say the things on my mind but now that I have you I just— I couldn’t fight the pain in my chest when I looked into your eyes for the first time.” His rambling was trailing off into muffled sniffling and staccato phrasing; it was causing you physical pain to hear him this way.

“I just assumed you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see me again, Ash. Why didn’t you say this sooner?”

“What? No. No, I don’t hate you,” he defends, still solemn, “I just— didn’t know how to reach out. It took me a lot to swallow my pride and send you that text, Y/N… I’ve never been good at communicating.”

“Tell me about it,” you break the tension with a lighthearted hand, but remnants of your feelings for him lingered above your head like a storm cloud.

“But my actions have consequences, I’ve learned… I’d drive past your house and it’d take everything in me not to bang on your front door and drop down to my knees. Beg you to forgive me for everything I put you through… Everything I do reminds me of you in some way and— it was hard to even think about the two of us existing in the same universe without the other by our sides. It just, it didn’t feel natural—”

You felt sorrowful enough to place a kiss on his cheek as he rambled on, masking tears of your own and letting them drip down his cheek.

“— And when you told me ‘no’ after I’d asked you on a whim to come here, I thought it was over. My entire life flashed before my eyes and you weren’t in it and it just— it fucking killed me.”

“But Ashton, I’m here,” you say, watching his face deconstruct into more of a manic expression as he digressed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you’re here. You’re here now and— I know you always told me to live in the moment, but fuck. There’s so much left to say.”

You cup his jaw and tilt his gaze back into yours, after it had wandered behind your head as it always seemed to do.

“I’m sure there’s a lot to say but Ashton, you’ve made up your mind. That’s just… the way things go.”

Another tear falls rogue from his malachite eyes and your thumb is there to catch it. His gaze is gut-wrenching, plucking at every single one of your impulses and all of the progress you’ve made in getting over him.

“Is it too late to change that?”

Your mind starts reeling. The words you’d never thought you’d hear coming from his mouth were finally out in the open and there was no sign of him taking them back. The initial issue was his lack of communication but fuck, you didn’t know it would come back to bite you so soon.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sending him a simple text to meet for coffee in hopes to ‘change his mind’, but it seemed as though he was thinking about it just as much as you were. There was no point in fighting it anymore. The two of you were meant for each other. If a month of no contact was all it took for him to realize how much he needed you…

…Then maybe that random Tuesday night wasn’t the worst thing after all.

#5sos fanfic #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin blurb #ashton #angst #breakup angst #i’ve never written something like this before plz be kind

[steveharringtonat3am]

Courtside

pairing: nba player!steve harrington x singer!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: oral (fem!recieving), penetrative sex

Excitement burns in your stomach as you put the finishing touches on your hair and makeup. You were going to be sitting courtside at the Lakers game, which meant you had to look good.

But you also wanted to look good for another reason.

Steve Harrington had just been traded from the Indiana Pacers to the Los Angeles Lakers. So even though it wasn’t your first time sitting courtside at an NBA game, you had never seen the famed rookie play live.

You had been watching him play since he got drafted by the Pacers in the first round. That had been years ago, and your crush had only grown. He was on this year's All-Star game roster, playing with the likes of Lebron James and Giannis Antetokounmpo. But you were on tour at the time, promoting your latest album, and hadn’t gone.

You scroll through Instagram on the drive to the stadium, liking posts and replying to DM’s. You smile to yourself when you see Steve Harrington’s latest post, in front of the Hollywood sign as he confirmed the trade. He didn’t post much, but when he did he always looked incredible. Squeezing your legs together to quell my desire for this man, you adjust your ridiculously low-cut top as the car parks by the side entrance. Luckily there are no paparazzi and you get in unbothered.

The players haven’t come out yet as you sit in your seat, crossing your legs and making sure to keep a neutral expression as you scroll on your phone. The last thing you wanted was for people to get pictures of you smiling at shirtless pictures of Steve Harrington.

When the Lakers start coming out, you keep a small smile on your face as you clap. But when they announce the number 30, you let yourself smile a little wider. As he runs out, we lock eyes for a brief second and you swear his smile grows.

As the players start to warm up, the commentators announce your presence. It was still a little surreal to see your face all over the jumbotron, but you smile and blow a kiss anyways. At one point, one of the Laker’s balls rolls by your feet and the next thing you know, Steve Harrington is standing in front of you.

He grins at you as he picks it up. His pretty brown eyes never leave yours as he slowly bends to pick the ball up with one very large hand.

“If I knew playing for the Lakers meant you would be sitting courtside, I would have asked for a trade a long time ago.” His voice has this flirty hint to it that makes your grin even wider.

“Well, I had to come to see what all the fuss was about. I hope you don’t disappoint.” You relax back into your seat as he chuckles.

“Trust me, I never disappoint.” He winks before jogging back to his side of the court.

Your heart is racing as you watch him go. If this was a cartoon, you would be fanning your face and hearts would replace my eyes.

Once the game starts, You see something in him switch. He starts doing moves you’ve hardly ever seen while watching basketball. At the end of the second quarter, he’s got 30 points, 5 rebounds, and 3 assists. He’s panting as he collapses into his chair for halftime.

As the opening notes of the first song start to play, you perk up from your Instagram scrolling. You knew those notes. You knew that opening. It was your song.

The sexiest song you had ever written.

It was a spur-of-moment thing, inspired by a fling you had with an actor that ended on relatively well terms. But before we called it off, we shot a rather risque music video to go along with the song. People went crazy when you released it. While you were proud of it, you did not need it playing while sitting across the room from Steve Harrington.

And of course he’s looking at you.

It’s like the whole room goes quiet, and all you can focus on is his piercing gaze. Sweat drips from his hair, chest hair matted down and peaking out from his jersey. He leans back in his seat, thighs looking absolutely delicious in his shorts. The sultry vocals have you thinking absolutely sinful thoughts, and it feels like you’re going to explode.

So you look away.

As the song continues, you can feel Steve's gaze intensifying. You glance back over at him and see that he's biting his lip, his eyes dark with desire. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement at the sight. You know that he's a professional athlete, and that he's used to being in the spotlight, but this feels different. This feels intimate, like you're sharing a secret moment together.

The song ends, and you try to focus on the game, but you can't help but steal glances at Steve. He catches your eye a few times, and each time, you feel a jolt of electricity. You can't believe that you're sitting here, watching Steve Harrington play basketball, and that he's looking at you like this.

The game continues, and Steve continues to play like a man possessed. You watch him move across the court with a grace and power that takes your breath away. You can see the sweat glistening on his skin, and it's all you can do to keep from reaching out and touching him.

As the game draws to a close, the Lakers are up by twenty points. Steve has been the star of the game, racking up an impressive 45 points, 8 rebounds, and 5 assists. You can't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for him. He's not just a pretty face, he's a talented athlete with a fierce competitive drive.

As the final buzzer sounds, the stadium erupts into cheers. You stand up and clap along with the crowd, your heart racing with excitement. You can't believe that you just witnessed such an incredible game, and that you got to share it with Steve Harrington.

As the players make their way off the court, Steve catches your eye and gives you a wink. You feel a rush of heat spread through your body, and you can't help but smile in response. This turned out even better then you could have possibly imagined.

It feels like it takes forever for you to get home but you finally curl up in bed, pyjamas and skincare on. When you check your phone, your heart nearly drops to your stomach to see a dm from Steve Harrington.

‘Hope I didn’t disappoint ;)’

He was flirting with you.

Now you just have to flirt back.

‘You definitely didn’t. Better win us a ring next :)’ You bite your nail as you stare at the screen, waiting for a text back. Luckily, it comes quickly.

‘That’ll be soon. But I’ve gotta take my lucky charm to dinner first.’

That makes you practically scream into your pillow. He wants to take you dinner! Like a date!

‘Sounds like a good plan. I’ll see you then Harrington’ You really wanna play it cool, and totally not like you’re obsessed with him.

‘I’ll meet you at The Palm, at 7? I’m free tomorrow night’ This feels so surreal you can barely breathe.

‘See you there, Harrington’

You finally turn off your phone, setting it on your nightstand with a huge grin. You were going on a date.

Your closet is huge. It has to be, considering you’re “not allowed” to wear the same thing twice. But in all of it’s entirety, you can’t find a single thing to wear.

“Should I go sexy? Or is that too much?” You press the phone to your shoulder, holding up two dresses to the mirror.

“I think sexy, but not too sexy. Like that red dress you bought a few weeks ago.” Your friend recommends. That makes you drop the two dresses you’re holding, hurrying over to where you last put that.

“Oh! This is perfect! Now…I’m gonna get ready okay? Bye!” You hang up quickly, so excited you can hardly think. You have to be there in two hours so you get some music on, and hop into the shower so you can be ready for anything.

You get your driver to take you to the restaurant, asking him to stay in the area just in case you needed him. You take a deep breath before stepping inside, politely smiling at the hostess who’s jaw nearly hits the floor when she sees you.

“Hi, I’m meeting a friend? The reservation should be under ‘Harrington’?” You overthink the word friend for a second, but it’s a relatively safe choice in case this gets out to the press.

“R-right of course. Mr. Harrington is waiting for you.” She smiles widely, a little too excited but sweet as she shows you to the table where Steve is waiting.

Of course he looks incredible.

He’s wearing a simple red dress shirt, tucked into some black dress pants and rolled up. A gold chain peaks out from where it’s unbuttoned. God this man is going to be the death of me.

“Hey! You look beautiful.” He stands to gently hug you, pulling out your chair for you to sit down.

“Thank you! You look very handsome.” He grins, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m glad you think so. Figured my jersey wasn’t appropriate for a place that serves steak tartare.” He jokes.

“Oh it totally would have been. Wouldn’t draw attention at all.” You wink and you share a laugh. The waiter comes over with the menus, and if he knows who we are, he doesn’t let it show.

“So what are you thinking of ordering?” You ask after we’ve looked through them for a minute.

“Well I’ve heard the lobster risotto is good! How about you?”

“I was actually thinking the same thing. You’ve got good taste Harrington.” You grin and he mirrors it.

“I definitely do.”

Dinner goes by quickly, so quickly you wish for time to slow down just a little bit. Soon enough you’re both finishing up dessert and the waiter is bringing the cheque.

Steve grabs it before you can, shooting you a grin.

“You bought a courtside ticket to watch me play. Let me pay for dinner?” He slips his card in, handing it to the waiter. Once he walks away, there’s a small pause. So you take your chance.

“You know, it’s still early. Would you like to come over? I could give you a tour?” You offer with a small smile, sipping your water to hide your nerves. Luckily, he lights up at the prospect.

“Of your famous mansion? Sounds perfect.” He winks, standing up and reaching a hand out for you.

“I would hardly call it famous.” Even though we both knew it kinda was. You had recently been featured in Architectural Digest and people pretty much went crazy over the pictures.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He leads you to his car, a bright red Porsche with the top down. It makes you laugh and he turns to you with a mock-offended look.

“What? It’s a beautiful car!” He opens the door for you, helping you inside.

“I know it’s just…very rookie of you.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“Can you blame me?” He smirks as you tell him the address.

The drive goes quick, and the conversation flows effortlessly. Steve was just so easy to talk to. As cocky and arrogant as he seemed on the basketball court, it was clearly just a personality for the cameras. That was common in LA, but it was rare to meet someone this genuine in a city full of people ready to stab you in the back for five minutes of fame.

“So this is the famous mansion!” You joke as he pulls into the driveway. It wasn’t a crazy size, but you definitely didn’t need a place this big all to yourself. Hopefully you could share it with someone one day.

And maybe that someone was standing right next to you.

“It’s even cooler in person.” He’s taking everything in as you two step inside.

“I’m glad you think so! Do you want anything to drink?” You lead him into the kitchen, pouring yourself some water.

“Just water is fine, thanks.” He takes the glass you offer, his large hands making the glass seem smaller than normal.

“So do you want that tour now?” You ask, placing your glass in the sink. He does the same, hip gently bumping yours.

“That sounds great.” He follows as you lead him to the other rooms, pointing out small details like the artwork and decor. Soon enough, you’re upstairs and the last room left is your bedroom. Luckily you had the sense to hide the chaos of your getting ready in the closet, which is closed. Your room is clean, and smells of the honeysuckle candle on your nightstand.

“This is where the magic happens!” You joke, stepping inside.

“Magic huh?” You turn to see him a lot closer then before, leaning down a bit.

“Mhm…” You feel myself getting lost in his eyes, leaning into him.

“Good to know.” And then his lips are against yours, hands gently gripping your hips. His hands gently slide up to your face, deepening the kiss even more. You start walking backwards towards your bed. He pulls away for a second to lock eyes with you.

“Do you want to? Cause we don’t have to. I really don’t mind.” He smiles softly and your heart soars.

“I want to. Really.” You step back to lay on the bed and he’s quick to climb on top of you, propping himself up on his forearms.

“You’re so beautiful…” He mumbles, kissing your jaw. You slide your hands into his hair, gripping it as he starts kissing lower and lower. He helps slip your dress off, revealing the matching set of red lingerie you had donned ‘just in case’ tonight.

“This is pretty.” He smirks and you can’t help but smile shyly.

“I picked it out for you.” He hums appreciatively, playing with the strap of the bra. Pressing kisses to your shoulder, he gently peels it off.

“Fuck.” He whispers when the material slips down your arms. You toss it to the side, watching his reaction with bated breath. But when his eyes lock with yours, there’s nothing but adoration in them.

“You’re incredible.” He smiles, continuing his path down your body. You can’t help but feel nervous. I mean, he was clearly experienced. What if he doesn’t think it’s good? What if he’s only using you for sex or publicity?

“Hey, are you okay?” You hadn’t even noticed him settle between your legs, but he sits up to look at you better.

“Yeah I’m fine. Just-just a little nervous I guess.” He smiles, understanding in his eyes, and reaches out to squeeze your hand.

“Don’t worry. I really like you. And I’ll like you the same if we have sex or if we don’t.” That actually calms you down, and you nod.

“Okay. I’m good now.” You confirm and he nods, starting to pull down your underwear. It makes you very aware of how wet you’ve gotten and you can tell from the grin on his face that Steve noticed too.

“Someone’s excited.” He teases.

“Can you blame me? I’ve got Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington in my bed.” You wink and he chuckles.

“And now you’re gonna know what it feels like to have him go down on you.” He smirks before bending down and licking a long stripe up your folds. The feeling makes you squirm with pleasure and you tangle your hands in his hair. He gently sucks on your clit and your whole body jerks.

Of course he knows where it is.

Steve gently slides a finger inside, pumping it slowly. You moan quietly and it seems to motivate him to get you louder. He starts going faster, circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh! R-right there!” You grip his hair tighter and he groans into you. You can feel the knot in your stomach building, pulling him even closer by his soft brown locks.

“Go ahead sweetheart.” He mumbles, slipping another finger inside. That’s what sends you over, moaning louder as you cum hard.

“Steve!” You cry out as he works you through it. When you finally relax, he sits up with a grin.

“That was so hot.” He kisses you deeply and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls you impossibly close and you take your chance to flip him, straddling his waist. He breaks the kiss to smile up at you.

“What is this?” He smiles, hands resting on your hips. He looks so handsome laid out in your bed and it sends your heart through the roof.

“I wanna make you feel good now.” You start to unbutton his shirt and he sits up a bit to help you get it off.

“How about you ride me and we both feel good?” He offers as he undoes his belt. I realize with wide eyes that he’s very hard. And he looks very big.

“Y-yeah that sounds good.” You help him shimmy his pants down and your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock. It looks the perfect size, so thick and pretty.

“You okay?” He asks, but I can see a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Very okay.” You stroke his cock gently and it makes him suck a breath in. You sit up to position his cock at your entrance, slowly sinking down. You both moan loudly, your nails digging into his biceps.

“Being so good.” He sits up to kiss you, pulling you down to lay on his chest. He plants his feet and starts fucking into you. Pleasure immediately overtakes you and you have to break the kiss to moan loudly.

“D-don’t stop!” You whine as he keeps going. He softly kisses the shell of your ear, mumbling praises as he slows down just a bit. His cock feels so deep, hitting every spot inside you.

You can feel yourself getting close again but you try desperately to hold off, to make this last just a little bit longer. You don’t want tonight to end.

“S-shit babe I’m close. Where-?” He can barely get the question out through sounds of pleasure.

“Inside!” You gasp, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. He doesn’t press the subject, and the second you cum, it sends him over. Warmth spreads through your lower body, limbs feeling like jello.

You both just lay there for a second, panting loudly. Eventually, you slip off of his chest and he sits up.

“Bathroom?” He asks, having caught his breath quicker than you. You point to the door on the other side of the room and he climbs out of bed. As you calm down, you start to feel a little sad. He was probably going to leave now. He’d go and you’d be alone and he might never talk to you again. Maybe sleeping together on the first date wasn’t such a good idea.

Before you can get too into your head, he comes back with a towel. You can’t even ask what he’s doing before he’s gently swiping in between your legs.

“Sorry.” He mumbles shyly when your hips jerk. He drops the towel to the ground and hesitates for a second.

“Do you want me to go?” He asks and you frown.

“N-not really. Unless you want to?” He shakes his head, climbing into the bed.

“I don’t want to. I never want this night to end.” He lays back and turns to face you. He looks so pretty like this, and so carefree.

“Me neither. You know…I’m free tomorrow morning. And I make mean blueberry pancakes.” You grin and he chuckles, arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.

“I’m holding you to that.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut

[otaku553]

Hello! I saw your recent art of sabo, and in the tags you mentioned the big 3 of Shounen. I know it’s One piece and Naruto, but what’s the third? How come you like the character? Lovely artwork, it’s candy for the soul!! Thank you •u•

Ah thank you!!! The big three of shonen (for I guess the previous generation?) are Naruto, One Piece, and Bleach. Naruto and Bleach have already ended but it seems like One Piece is still going quite strong, despite the new generation of shonen anime (including Hero Aca, Demon Slayer, and the third spot is still debated! Probably JJK is my guess though that falls into its own sub genre of shonen dark fantasy I suppose)

Here are my favs! I’ll put the reasons why I like them in the read more because it’s quite long :)

Despite watching Naruto first I could never actually finish it because it was so long so I kind of just osmosed the later parts of shippuden through fanfics and other such media ^^; I think it’s pretty difficult to pick a definitive fav for Naruto because I feel like it tends to fumble a bit of its character writing? I think if I had to pick one maybe young Kakashi but still kind of eh. Maybe I just didn’t watch far enough to get attached

As for Bleach, I picked it up years ago around middle school and then dropped it after the first hundred episodes or so because filler got boring for younger me but then I picked it up again in high school and managed to at least get past aizen! And then I dropped it there because I wasn’t interested in any continuation after what seemed like an already pretty strong ending.

Toshiro is my favorite because he falls into all niches of character tropes that I enjoy including but not limited to: child genius who acts responsible but is still somewhat immature, cold personality along with ice powers but fierce loyalty to close relationships. I especially enjoy child genius characters for the contradictory dichotomy of what is expected of them in terms of maturity and knowledge and the amount of pressure these kinds of characters face and how they handle it! That said, I enjoy him more for the tropes that he falls into and my personal interpretation of him rather than canon writing for him. I think that though canon is an alright base, he doesn’t get much time to shine (character-wise instead of combat-wise).

And Sabo. Oh my goodness I am brainrotting so hard over Sabo right now. The ASL siblings in general have a vice grip on my heart and really are not letting go. There is so much tragedy in the way that they are written, that works because there are three of them. Ace and Luffy spend so much effort trying to save the only brother they have left in the world not realizing that if they go they’ll be the first to go actually because Sabo is still alive, and Sabo could have done so much and changed so much if only he had regained his memories sooner. Why didn’t he remember sooner? I can only assume it’s because he didn’t want to remember, because he grew out his hair to cover a scar he wasn’t proud of, because he was running away from his origins when he lost his memories and maybe that stuck with him. I don’t even remember when Sabo was introduced as a character because I don’t think he was mentioned during Marineford? But he’s such a compelling character because he does so much to save the world and yet is unable to save his own brother! And he’s written to fit with Ace and Luffy incredibly well, being the voice of reason where they can’t be.

#ask #one piece #sabo #toshiro hitsugaya #bleach #sabo’s round bug eyes are so silly to me #I’m not going to ever be able to draw him like that but. it’s really funny to me when people give him the narrow ikemen eyes #he’s such a dork…. a doting older brother……… amnesiac…… what a little meowmeow truly #I think I enjoy Toshiro because gifted kid burnout makes me relate a lot to the pressure and I wish I could handle maturity as well as him #Sabo on the other hand is just. hghgehhfhfh no concrete personal reason he’s just cool #i think anyone who goes into battle wearing a top hat and tailcoat and cravat is awesome #but then he goes and brings out the PIPE and it’s such an endearing little callback to how he grew up among trash heaps and asfnaenfaenf #I didn’t think he was that interesting at first because it felt a bit cliche for him to be a runaway noble #but then they hit him with the amnesia and hit him with the need to help others escape from evils that he can’t even really remember #and then they hit him with fucking……. returning his memories too little too late and his breakdown at being overwhelmed with not only the #memories of his brothers but also the knowledge that one of his brothers has died while he forgot them and was off doing something else and. #ashnasfnaenfeafhhaefh

[venerawrites]

THANK YOU wonderful lovely person for writing for this fandom 😍 so glad you're here!💐

if you feel inspired, may I request some hurt/comfort Sasuke goodness? can be modern au depression or dealing w the aftermath of the truth behind the Uchiha massacre...are there any ways to help him out of a bereft slump or have faith in the future again?

also, your theme and artwork choices are simply gorgeous 🙌🏻 and the delicious angst 🤤

author's note: thank you so much for your beautiful words! I have been waiting to be in the right mood for this one, so I am really sorry you had to wait this long... I really hope you like it, because I always feel like comfort is the hardest for me to write. Thank you for requesting and for the idea! <3

Some people leave your life just as unexpectedly as they show up. They offer nothing but distant memories of shared late evenings and cold tea, which soon make you question your sanity and if they were ever real at all.

Such person was Sasuke Uchiha.

You met him years ago, while he was working for a shady man called Orochimaru and was in pursuit of revenge against his brother. He was not like any boy you've met before: arrogant, proud, constantly tense, and untrusting. Rarely talked about himself, and much preferred to sit in silence, dwelling on his own thoughts, than to voice his feelings and opinions out loud. He always seemed in a hurry, constantly telling you he could stay no longer than an hour before he had to leave again.

To this day you never learned the true intentions behind his visits. The first time it was a simple call for help - sitting on a lone hill between the borders of the Land of Wind and the Land of Rivers, he easily mistaken your cottage for an abandoned house where he could seek refuge after being badly wounded.

A terrifying surprise was written on both of your faces once you came back home later that afternoon only to find the black-haired ninja bleeding heavily on your bed. You were no medic, but you used your limited knowledge of herbal medicine to help his recovery as much as you could. In return, he spared your life.

He visited irregularly, but often after this. Sometimes he showed up three times per week, and sometimes months passed before you heard from him again. Sasuke never offered any explanation about where he was or what he was doing, instead often justifying his random appearances as his need for alternative treatment for his scars and wound.

The first few times it made you raise your brows in question - you were not an expert healer, all you knew being tales passed down from your grandmother about the properties of a handful of plants. Yet, you never spilled your suspicion out loud to him, instead quietly finding comfort in his presence.

It was strange how well you got along, your shared love for silence and solitude somehow bringing you together. Most of the time you just sat there, next to each other, quietly sipping your tea and staring at the sky.

Sometimes you caught him glancing at you or curiously inspecting all the pictures and books you had on the shelves around your living room, his lips pressed into a thin line of concentration, while he tried to put the pieces of your life story together in his mind. He never asked you for more other than your name and your age. You never offered anything more either.

It took a few months after his last visit for you to realize he wasn't coming back and that in the end, he was no more than a stranger to you - you didn't know anything about him other than his name, his birth village, and the fact that he wanted to kill his brother. His motives were never revealed, and his ambitions for the future - never shared.

Despite this, it always felt like he was some form of friend to you. There was a silent understanding that both of you carried too much weight on your shoulders and you did not wish to revisit a painful past by re-telling it, instead finding peace in watching the beauty of the stars up the sky or the birds, who migrated to their new home in the late summer afternoons.

Years have passed since then. What you cherished as meaningful moments soon turned into dusty memories, that never reminded you of him outside your dreams. Life continued, despite time staying still - time always felt frozen when you lived a life by yourself, away from all humanity.

So when you found him one day, glaring at you with red eyes, you were both dumbfounded and terrified. He looked at you in a way that screamed hatred, rage, sadness, and pain. For a second you wondered if they were directed at you.

"I didn't know where else to go."

His voice was the total opposite of how he looked - it was small and weak, almost on the verge of breaking.

You quickly stepped aside, an unspoken invitation for him to come into your home. His feet hurried past you and you closed the door after him, immediately walking toward the kitchen to prepare jasmine tea. His favourite. Sasuke didn't like tea, but there was something about the way you prepared it that always eased both his muscles and his nerves.

After a while you came back, holding two white mugs in your hands, only to find him with his head buried in his hands and his knee shaking violently. You quickly sat next to him, before placing the drinks on the table and turning toward him, instinctively placing your hand on his back, rubbing small circles.

"I did it", he said with a hoarse voice, his head still hanging low, his black locks covering his face from you. There was no need for him to say anything else - these three words were enough for you to understand that he has finally achieved his goal. The result, however, seemed not to be what he hoped for.

"I am sorry."

Sasuke finally raised his head, looking at you with narrowed eyes. You could see the trail of dry tears covering his cheeks and you easily assumed he must have cried while you were in the kitchen. His lips were twisted in a scowl and he let out an angry breath through his nose.

"I don't need your pity!"

Despite the aggression in his tone, his eyes started to tear up again and he squeezed his eyelids shut in a poor attempt to stop them from falling.

"I have finally learned the truth", he hissed through gritted teeth, "I finally learned why my brother really did it."

The mention of the word "brother" seemed to trigger something in him and the tears started flowing freely from his eyes, while his lips started to mumble incoherent sentences about the Uchiha Massacre, Konoha, and the orders the elders gave to his brother. It was a mess - he kept referring back to his talks with a man named "Madara" while jumping back and forth between the memories of that bloody night and his plans for destroying the Leaf. It took you a while to piece the chronology together, while the feelings he kept bottling for years just kept erupting, reducing what you once knew as a stoic and controlled man, into a sobbing, raging mess on the floor.

It took around an hour for him to finish his story and for you to quietly absorb every detail, while he poured his heart out to you. The hand that was first rubbing soothing patterns on his back, was laying flat in his palm, while his fingers squeezed it for dear life. It almost looked like he was afraid that you were nothing more than a fruit of his imagination and if he let go, you would disappear into thin air and leave him by himself.

"I will destroy them!", the vow was made once there were no more tears left for him to cry, "They will all pay for what they did to my clan! To Itachi! To ME!

Taking a sip of your tea, you hummed under your breath, before turning towards him. For the whole time he was here, you didn't comment on anything he told you, but you also didn't have the chance to do so, as Sasuke left no time between his voiced thoughts for you to mutter even a word.

"And then what?", the question surprised him and he turned to you with confused expression.

"What do you mean "then what?"

Pulling your hand away, you tilted your head to the side.

"You are going to destroy your village, sacrificing the innocent lives of many, including your old friends, teammates, and teachers", you thought out loud, moving your eyes toward the old map of the world that hung framed on the wall opposite you, "And then what? The Leaf's allies would without question turn against you, and then you are going to have to destroy them too. A bloody path, that would eventually end either in your early death or in pushing someone else to take your path and seek revenge on you."

The more you talked, the lower his brows were furrowing to the point he was staring at you under the dark shade of his frowning face. His face was almost distorted - switching from extreme emotions of sadness and grief to anger and aggression, his whole expression was now twisted in an almost inhuman grimace, a mixture of all.

"None of them are innocent", he huffed, his jaw working, "They were all enjoying a carefree life, because of the sacrifice of my brother... and even then, they still called him a traitor."

There were no words of rebuttal you could offer. You didn't know his life in the village, nor how the people there behaved. Perhaps, the people living there were monsters, who lacked both heart and soul. But weren't they like that everywhere? You may have lived alone and detached from society, but you had enough contact with traveling ninjas - both rogue and village warriors - to know that they were all often fighting for the same cause, it was just their ideas of how it could be achieved that differed.

"And is that something that he would wanted?"

The man lifted his knee and rested his arm on top of it. He seemed to contemplate your question, the muscles on his face twitching every few seconds.

"No", the truth came out as a disappointed sigh. His fingers clenched and you could hear his teeth gritting, before he looked at you with cold eyes.

"But I am not him! I won't repeat the same mistakes!"

Holding his gaze felt almost like staring into the eye of a brewing storm. The determination that he radiated hinted that this is was just the beginning - he still had more hate and more anger to give to the world.

"Yet you seem to repeat your own mistakes over and over", the challenge was bold and even he seemed taken aback. Sasuke rarely got people opposing him - other than Naruto, who always had to have a contrasting opinion - but usually his ideas were met either with encouragement or with silence. His own team was either too scared or too busy with their own worries to question him and his motives, often just nodding their heads at whatever he said.

A dry chuckle left his lips before he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Every time he came he was met with the comfort of silence, your bond built entirely on the feeling of the safety he felt every time he visited. Now he wondered if that bond was even real - never had he expected that you would actually talk so much, let alone NOT support him.

He imagined that he would just come here, you would make him his favourite tea... and he didn't know what he was thinking when he came here. He didn't plan to tell you any of the truth he learned about his clan's death and Itachi, yet the sentences just kept spilling out of his body, almost like he had no control over it.

"What do you know?", he scoffed, giving you a mocking look, "You live here alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere."

Sasuke suddenly leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"What exactly do you know about the world or even about living? The gravest mistake you probably made was to put too much water in your stupid tea. You know nothing about pain or the real world out there! You know nothing about having everything taken away from you!"

Your expression hardened. You held his furious stare, bravely accepting his poisonous words, which cut deeper and deeper into your soul. Once he finished talking, his breath was rigid once again.

"You will be no different than them", you stated blankly and the man grumbled in response, "The people who pushed your brother to commit these crimes. And I know deep down, you realise that too... Because somewhere out there there is a little kid, who just like you will one day waste his whole life chasing you, dreaming of punishing you, till they become just like you. And the cycle will continue."

His eyes were now back to his original onyx colour, yet the burning sensation they brought to your insides was just the same.

"I didn't come here for you to offer me lessons of morality."

"Why did you come then?"

No answer.

"I offer you nothing, but my honesty", you continued, standing up from your seat, "If you are here to seek support and encouragement for your plans of destroying the lives of thousands of innocent people, you are in the wrong place."

It was definitely a mistake visiting you. He should've known better. Why you, of all people, would understand him?

Grabbing his stuff, he followed your figure into the kitchen. You seemed unbothered by his looming presence behind you, instead focusing on washing the two empty cups. Once you were done, you just rested your hands on the counter, facing the big kitchen window that overlooked the forest. If it wasn't for the faint breathing sound, you would have thought he had left.

"There is light inside you, Sasuke", you finally said, "And no matter how hard you try to fight it, it is there. Don't try to kill it! Use it and spread it in order to bring the change you want to see."

"You don't know me!"

"Maybe not as much as I would like", you shrugged your shoulders, your eyes still gazing at the trees whose branches danced elegantly under the wind, "But I know if you were really that heartless, as you like me to think, you would've drawn that katana you rest your hand on a long time ago."

Sasuke moved his fingers away as if the handle of his weapon suddenly burned his skin and his head dropped low. How did you know, when your back was facing him the whole time?

Before he could raise his question, you started walking toward the door, waving your hand after you.

"Come!"

Not leaving any time for an answer, your form was already outside by the time he could register your simple command and follow it. He was not one to do what others told him to, but his body seemed to act on its own, his steps echoing after yours before his mind could protest.

The man found you sitting on your front steps, a place where you and he have shared countless late nights, just gazing at the sky above you. Like a habit, he sat next to you, easing into the comfort of your old routine without further questioning.

"This area was a village back when my parents were children. It was a small one - only a handful of farmers and herb gatherers", Sasuke looked at you in surprise, before scanning the area. He had never paid attention to the surroundings of your home, noting only the existence of a forest on the right and a large meadow on the left. Now, on a closer inspection, he could see the remaining stones and paths, which were half-covered by moss and too strategically placed around to be just random rocks.

There were remaining memories of buildings now long gone.

"My grandmother always said that our ancestors were tasked with the responsibility to restore what the Great Nations destroyed", you continued, bringing his attention back to you, "Where the ninja waged war, we followed to take care of the land and bring it back to life. Where the villagers left burned forests after they sought new places to build, we moved to these places to protect the balance between the human world and the natural one."

Sasuke listened patiently, his brows furrowed in confusion. Where were you getting with this story? And more importantly, where were all these people you talked about?

Almost like you've read his mind, your head turned toward him with a small sad smile on your lips.

"Our communities have been destroyed dozens of times and they rebuilt themselves just as many. This village was destroyed before I was even born by a conflict between the Land of Wind and the Land of River, one which had nothing to do with the hard-working people who were guilty only of trying to take care of the forest and wildlife", you looked towards your crossed fingers in your lap, suddenly overwhelmed of the sad destiny your family must have suffered.

"There is no greater sin than the arrogance of a man blinded by revenge. Shinobi keep waging wars with each other, each drop of blood they spill being with price of at least one innocent life. And they keep destroying, blinded by their hate, claiming that they only want to "save the world"", suddenly grabbing his arm, you pointed at the trees with your other hand, before dragging it across the air to the meadow, "But look!"

The onyx eyes followed the movement of your finger, before they rested on your face unimpressed.

"Look at what? Trees and grass?"

You huffed at his words, rolling your eyes.

"You are blind, Sasuke!", your forefinger poked his temple a few times and you could feel him stiffen under your touch, "You watch, but you don't see! It is not just trees and grass!"

When he offered no other reply than a small curling of his lips downwards, you gently grabbed his chin and forcefully turned it ahead again.

"It is life! A life born out of destruction, out of pain", your hand gestured around you once again, "The truth is the world doesn't need saving! It has existed for many, many years before us and will exist for many, many years after us. It is us, humans, that need saving... and not by more blood spilling or fear, or hate, or whatever other false values they try to teach you in your ninja academies."

His muscles finally started to relax under your touch, while he kept staring ahead, finally understanding the meaning of the words that you were saying. The slow realization that destroying Konoha is not the medicine for his bleeding soul was slowly creeping into his mind, suddenly making him confused and unsure.

"What if we can't be saved?", the heavy doubts that kept holding him down finally came to the surface, "What if we just... keep destroying?"

You looked at him in silence, before finally letting go of his arm. The sudden removal of warmth made him involuntarily shiver.

"We will keep destroying", you finally answered, pressing your tongue inside your cheek in thought, "I guess it is in our nature! But we will also rebuild. And we will learn from our past mistakes, making sure that we will not repeat them again."

Signing, you turned toward him, before reaching out for his hand again. All his life, Sasuke always thought he hated physical touch, but now it felt right. It felt like it was a silent promise that everything will somehow be alright.

"Do not go down the same path of hatred, Sasuke. Your destination will keep being the same, no matter how hard you try to avoid it", the corners of your lips curved slightly upwards, "Your pursuit for a better world is noble, but you can't do it alone! The same way this forest and meadow did not just pop in one day by themselves - it took years for them to grow, helped by bees, the birds, and even the wind and the rain... They all did their own part. The same way you need to do yours, alongside your friends."

The silence that followed was long, yet comfortable. His fingers wrapped around your palm, keeping your hand in his, while his mind considered the truth you just spoke. There was a part inside of him - the one that was still hurt and crying - that wanted to convince him that it was all just an empty talk. That he should not give up what he already started.

Another part, however, what seemed to be a louder one and for some reason sounded a lot like his brother's voice in his head, was agreeing with you, shifting the perspective he was looking from.

A long time passed till he spoke again.

"Promise me", there was no trace of anger on his face anymore, just tiredness, "That you will always be clear and honest with me."

You couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips.

"I promise."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years have passed since the end of the war and Sasuke was once again on the road, this time accompanied by Sakura. Their final destination was unclear, but the first stop was already set in his mind - the cottage sitting on a hill between the borders of the Land of Wind and the Land of Rivers. He has not seen you since that night you opened his eyes to what is really important, but the thought of you never left his mind.

The woman next to him, who still had an unclear status between a teammate and friend, kept trying to make him share where were they going, but was often met either with just silence or with the simple explanation of "someone important". The description make her a bit uneasy, wondering who could have such an impact on Sasuke to want to check on them first thing after he was allowed to leave, but she did not question further, still unsure of how far the man's boundaries lie.

Once they got to the hill, however, her uneasiness grew.

"Sasuke, there is nothing here", she said, looking around the vast field that bordered a forest nearby, "Are you sure that person lived here? Maybe they moved?"

The man did not reply, his body being frozen in place. You were gone, the house was gone, it was just wild nature. He suddenly tensed, once he felt Sakura's hand laying flat between his shoulder blades and running small circles on top of the clothed skin.

Just like you did that night.

Sasuke made a few steps further, before kneeling and touching the ground. While looking the same as the rest at first glance, the grass covering the area where he vividly remembered your house being seemed different... almost greener, yet smaller.

A small parchment of paper poked out of the dirt next to his fingers and he carefully lifted it, revealing a burnt part of the world map that hung on your wall once. The majority of it was gone, but he could clearly make out the names of the Land of Wind, The Land of Rivers, and the Land of Fire. Right in the middle, was a small drawing of a few houses - an indication of where your community once resided. Where you once were.

Sakura peered over his shoulder, looking at the piece of paper with interest.

"There still don't seem to be any indication for a building being here", she noted, before kneeling next to him and caressing the grass with her fingers, "This part of the field was grown by someone. Look, it is a different shade and size from the rest! It is like someone tried to cover the area."

Sasuke stood up, eyes still focused on the piece of paper. There was one, just a brief pencil line, that started from the drawn houses and continued up, till it ended at the burnt end. The man has stared at least a hundred times at the map in your house and he could swear he has never seen this line on it.

"You must have used it to plan where to leave next", he thought to himself. Because deep down he knew you were not dead - everything was left too perfect, including planting seeds in the place which you used to occupy, for him to believe you had met your end.

No, you had to be somewhere out there, rebuilding what shinobi like him have destroyed during the war.

He turned his head toward the sun, watching it slowly dip beyond the horizon. His fingers put the paper in his pocket, before he turned to Sakura, informing her they have to go and find an inn before it gets too dark.

Some people leave your life just as unexpectedly as they show up. They offer nothing but distant memories of shared late evenings and cold tea, which soon make you question your sanity and if they were ever real at all.

And for Sasuke, such person was you.

cc artwork: Clement Tingry

#sasuke uchiha #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #sasuke angst

[autisticlancemcclain]

thank u @zenstrike for the tag <333333333 i see ur mic and i'm elated about it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

185! but i haven't updated in like a week and a half so we're probably closer to 190

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

556,104. i am very excited to watch it jump up when i finally finish my longfic teehee

3. what fandoms do you write for?

literally just voltron lol. well not counting baby me's wattpad lol. i started writing almost two years ago and just went ham basically. i've been intentionally avoiding things that i know i will get hyperfixated on bc i don't want to stop my writing obsession lol

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

ooooou i'm excited to check. i know it's changed quite a bit over time. i usually sort them by hits!

i will grind you to sand (beneath my louboutin heels) [voltron, 2573 words]: bamf lance fic where i give him a revolver and let him go ham basically

mr. snuggles [voltron, 1656 words]: one of my very earliest fics! lance, lover of weirdo animals, finds a demonic cat-sized spider and adopts it despite his friend's freakouts

he might not look like he gets bitches (but honey that dick was eleven inches) [voltron, 1136 words]: this one is so dorky lol but it's just secret relationship klance coming to light in the most embarrassing possible way

does anyone know where the love of god goes (when the waves turn the minutes to hours) [voltron, 4283]: a canon divergence au where lance is a seer and convinces the skeptics on his team of his abilities by ending the war

this is the part of me that you're never gonna ever get away) [voltron, 3262 words]: a lance & shiro hurt/comfort with a small autistic lance character study! i'm very proud of this one

5. do you respond to comments?

i definitely do on tumblr! it's one of the first things i do when i wake up actually. on ao3, though...i'm pretty sure i have about eight hundred unanswered comments sitting in my inbox 💀 it's an ongoing issue

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm almost sure it's this post-game show lance leaving fic, because i got comments and asks for weeks begging me to write a happy ending lol. but this fic from the hana universe, from when keith is little and shiro is fighting for custody and they haven't figured things out yet. that one is sad. this dream pov adashi fic is also sad and has no happy ending bc, you know. shiro is in space and adam thinks he's dead and everything. my loneliest series is also still in progress and as such there is no happy ending. and this is my earliest angsty-ending fic with MCD

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oh god pretty much everything i write has a happy ending?? if i’m being serious?? frankly i don’t do a lot of linear plot. i just write Scenes that are vaguely connected. BUT my h2o fic had a plot that ended happily, as did my cowboy fic, but truly i’m more of a slice of life kinda gal. all my active wips are plot-driven, though, and i plan for all of them to end happily.

8. do you get hate on fics?

oh god yeah. i get it on brown eyed lance, autistic lance, adhd keith, allura just in general (are you sensing a pattern), my refusal to use readmores, and lately just some demands for me to write differently/more?? most of it is just funny so i post it to goof on it lol, but some of it i just delete and pout about until i forget about it 💀

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes and it’s nasty and i will literally never ever post it. although i guess i’ve written some softer stuff that’s more allusion than anything, like in my loneliest series.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not anymore, but i did when i was a kid?? i think i wrote a pjo/hoo/divergent/the mortal instruments/homestuck/a bunch of other shit fic when i was 13. i’ve successfully blocked that era out of my mind tho so i’m not sure. i do a lot of insane aus, tho. i wrote a fic based off a country song written in the sixties. so.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i’ve had people write continuations of my wips?? which i didn’t rly like. i just ignored it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

someone has asked me about translating a fic before! haven’t heard anything since tho.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have tried. i’m not very good at it. i have very Specific ideas about things and can be very controlling, so it’s honestly better that i don’t lol.

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

klance, easy. been in the trenches of this goddamn fandom since i was 13 years of age. it’s been a Journey.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

god, the butterfly effect. i get people asking me to update all the time and i genuinely feel bad, because i have absolutely no ideas or plans for it. i might try to come up with an ending of some kind?? but i wrote that like two years ago, so i have changed a LOT about my writing since then.

16. what are your writing strengths?

dialogue and humour, i think. and sometimes writing lack of emotional communication (if that makes sense — i like to try and write around an emotion).

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i over explain a lot. and i overuse dialog ur tags sometimes. i have a Very Specific scene playing out in my head and i want everyone else to see it like i’m seeing it, which is my downfall a lot. i’ve been trying to work on implicit stage directions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think sometimes it’s necessary? it can be a good tool for humour, like with cussing that can’t be achieved in english. but while i understand and read several languages i have always always struggled to speak or write in them. it’s very frustrating so i often avoid the subject entirely lol.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i’ve been writing fanfic in my head since before i knew what it was, but i started typing things at around 11 when i used to homestuck roleplay with my friends lol. messy messy times.

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh i am my own target audience. i have several.

i need a man (who’s patient and kind): keith-centric post canon (divergence) fic where lance takes him to his family and keith is good with kids and just keith being loved is the whole point. always.

what if i lose it all: an alternate universe where lance, as a baby, loses both his parents, and then is raised by his oldest siblings. in luis’ pov.

when does a ripple become a tidal wave (when does the reason become the flame): brogane fight & angst canon divergence post season 6; covering shiro’s guilt complex and keith’s unwavering loyalty

he’s into superstitions (black cats and voodoo dolls): halloween verse with witch lance and vampire keith! i have barely spoken about this au on here but rest assured i’m thinking about it all the fucking time

the applebee’s universe: modern au with young keith and lance learning how to love each other

ceilings (plaster): non-linear dream-like fic that’s just so trippy and strange i’m obsessed with it

if the sky comes falling down (for you) there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do: a keith character study about how the biggest bleeding heart in the universe loves

the hana universe: brogane-centric universe as their family starts rocky and grows

thank u again for the tag zen <33 open offer for anyone else who would like to hop on!!

#writer games #? #info #tag game #longpost

[riaarivic]

HATE 9: DANGER (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary  You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: mentions of death, drugs and vioence, foul language, mentions of organized crime. Smut (yes, finally) explicit sex scene.

🌙 A/N At no time do I (the author) encourage this activity in life, it is important that you know that the criminal acts in this book are that, a crime, as well as harmful to health and should not be romanticized. This is all a work of fiction for entertainment.

Love, Ria

🌙 Chapter wordcount 5k (the longest one yet)

🌙 Series Index

1  2 3 4  5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 9: DANGER (M) I MYG x F!reader

You don't have me, but I'm so full of you I'm going crazy So why are you doing this to me? Why are you making a fool out of me?

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

The more you fuck around… 

The more you’ll find out. 

Your grandmother used to tell you that everytime you got in trouble and in the Seven Moons’s case: They’ve been fucking around for too long. 

The Seven Moons’s history went way back to the first kkangpae during the Japanese occupation and the fights against the yakuza. They smuggled guns to the country during the military run in the 80’s. And of course were the Drug Kings during the clan wars 20 years ago. Every time a new leader rose, the clan had a new name and the member deleted every piece of evidence that linked them to their previous organization.

A clean page to start over. 

And in the end if there’s no body, there’s no crime. 

That is why they were yet to find out. 

The Seven Moons under Kim DoHan’s rule, were untouchable. Every crime committed by his orders was untraceable to him and his sons; they always made sure that someone else got their hands dirty and in the case they did finish a job they had enough people in power to make sure no one would ask questions. 

All of the seven young leaders' criminal records were so squeaky clean they could run for office. You were surprised you didn't see any pictures of Kim Namjoon or Kim Seokjin kissing babies on their files.

You could do a lot of fucking around if you were sure you’ll never get caught. 

That was the reason you were sent to Seoul in the first place.

And for the past 3 days you learned one thing. 

Kim Dohan and his seven moons were very fucking good at fucking around and not finding out. 

But pride was the cardinal sin of the powerful and more often than not, the reason for their demise. All you needed was to find an opening on The Seven Moon’s arrogance. 

And the best one you found. 

Was finding your way to Suga's bed. 

You weren’t really proud of it. But you have to do what you’ve got to do. 

“By any means necessary” were the exact words of the Lieutenant and sitting on the Shadow’s face on your second night in Seoul fell into that category. 

Not that you had other motives for it. 

The sun was about to rise in the sky when you finally reached your bedroom in the mansion and you knew you could not sleep tonight, not after what you saw at Jhope’s warehouse. 

You’ve witnessed violence, you served in the military, you’ve been in a war. 

But you’ve never seen something so cruel…

It was pure evil, the way those bodies piled up. 

And the message. 

“This is how the devil pays for your loyalty” 

Written with their own clansmen blood. 

Releasing a tired sigh you sat on your bed and took out a small digital recorder in your pocket. 

You had placed the device inside the meeting room earlier that day during the office tour. Hoping to catch some valuable information from the clan leaders. Now, as you got your laptop on your lap, you plugged in your earbuds and listened to the recording, your heart pounding with anticipation.

At first, the voices were barely audible, as if the speakers were deliberately trying to keep their conversation from being overheard. But your trained ears picked up snippets of words and phrases.

It was a conversation between Kim Dohan and Mr. Lee “your father” 

"...the heir is a liability..."  said Kim Dohan in a tone that made your blood run cold.

"...we must eliminate… before they gain too much power..." responded Mr. Lee and you made a mental note to find out who they were. You suspected they were talking about the Jade Dragon.

"...make it look like an accident..." Your hand shook as you rewound the recording and played back the crucial part. 

This wasn’t exactly what you had been waiting for, a piece of evidence that would help you bring down the entire clan. 

But it was a death sentence for the clan’s heir, who was unaware of the plot against him.

It had to be Kim Namjoon. 

You wondered what drove Kim Dohan to decide to get rid of his only biological son. You had to act fast. You couldn't let them carry out their plan. But how could you warn Namjoon without blowing your cover?

If they killed him and then wiped out the clan’s record there was no chance for you to find any evidence.

And without any evidence, you were done. 

Mission Failed.

Fuck. 

You needed to rest. 

You closed your laptop and stared at the ceiling, your time was running out. And this piece of information was a drop of water compared to the sea of lies that existed around the Seven Moons clan. 

You needed something more, something bigger. 

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

The next morning on the Seven Moon's diningroom.

Awkward was not a good enough word to describe how everyone at that table was feeling.

Namjoon had a black eye.

Suga had a split lip.

No one knew how Jungkook had ended up with a hickey on his neck.

Jimin was still furious with everyone for making such a fuss in his club.

Jhope looked like his cereal was made of rusty nails and he had to swalow them whole.

Taehyung was looking at you as if he wanted to kill you…

Although that was nothing new.

You looked exactly how you felt.. like shit. 

Jin was the only one who seemed to be calm.

And as if the tension at that table didn't feel like it could be cut with a chainsaw. The clan’s Leader joined you for the first time at breakfast.

“Miss Nari, you have been in my house for a few days now and we have not had the opportunity to talk” Kim Dohan's deep voice crossed the dining table and his tone of authority made everyone present stop what they were doing “I hope you are adapting well to life here in Seoul, if there is anything you need, do not hesitate to let me know” 

“Thank you very much, sir” You answered him looking at him from afar feeling like his gaze could pierce through any lie, even for you, a trained agent looking at Kim Dohan was like looking straight in the devil’s eyes “I have everything I need, you are very kind” finished your phrase with the most convincing smile you could give. 

“Everyone can tell you have more than you need” Taehyung muttered quietly, just enough for you to hear him and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. You weren't quite sure if it was anger or embarrassment you felt.

“If you want to say something at my table, Kim Taehyung, I hope you'll say it loud enough for all of us to hear” The Leader pounded his fist on the table making everyone jump a little out of their seats.

“Oh, Father, I was saying that Miss Nari seems to feel very comfortable at home. That is so great, because by the end of next month this will be your house  too. When she marries one of us” The young gangster replied with a shit eating grin.

You little shit.

Oh, how you wanted to wipe the smile off his face!

After the awkward breakfast was over, you felt like you were about to poke Taehyung with a toothpick right in the eye. When one of Kim Dohan’s bodyguards approached you quietly “The Leader wants to speak to you privately”

Your blood froze on your veins, if there was something you did not want to do was to be in the same room as Kim Dohan… alone. You looked at Suga who was on the other side of the room and he gave you an understanding smile. 

If the leader wanted to speak to you alone, he will have it his way.

You took a deep breath before opening the doors to The Leader’s office. The devil sat behind his massive desk, his piercing gaze fixed on you as you approached him. "Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the chair opposite him. You sat down, your heart pounding in your chest.

"You know that you are playing with fire, don't you?" Kim Dohan said in a low voice. "You may have fooled my men and my sons, but you can't fool me."

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your mind was racing. Have you been discovered? Did Kim DoHan know that you were an undercover agent?

"I know about you and my son," Kim DoHan continued, his eyes narrowing. "Don't think that anything happens in my house without me knowing. You're lucky that I respect your father so much."

You felt your heart sink. 

Out of all the things you thought he could have discovered. That was the less awfull. 

But you could not be at ease. Now that you knew he was onto you.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, trying to stay calm.

"Oh, pretty lily. That was your first and last mistake. Do not lie to me," Kim DoHan said, his voice rising and his gaze darkened. "I have eyes and ears everywhere. This is my home and my kingdom to rule. You think you can deceive me, but you can't. You're playing a dangerous game, flower. And if you're not careful, you're going to get burned."

You noticed Kim Dohan kept calling you flower.

Just like Suga did. 

And that made you wonder if he was involved in this. 

You felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. Kim Dohan's words were a clear warning, and you knew that you had to be more careful than ever. You nodded, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor.

"I understand," you said softly. "I won't let it happen again."

Kim Dohan leaned back in his chair, his expression inscrutable. "See that you don't. I won’t say I don't understand young love, but I really do not appreciate two of my sons fighting in a dark alley like hormonal teenagers over a girl. " he said, dismissing you with a wave of his hand.

You rose to your feet, your legs feeling weak. You knew that you had narrowly escaped a dangerous situation, and that you had to tread carefully from now on. As you left Kim DoHan's office, you knew that the stakes had just been raised, and that the game had become even more deadly.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Later that day...

You were lying on your bed trying to process all the information you had gathered over the past days.

The realization dawned on you, it became clear that the Jade Dragon, the Chinese triad with a dark history, had resurfaced and were seeking retribution. The ability to send a message to the clan's secret hideout suggested that they had a mole within the organization.

And not just anyone had access to that place, it had to be someone with power.

You had enough reasons to suspect that Kim Namjoon was into some shady business, and you were determined to uncover the truth. Your gut suggested that it may have something to do with his father's plans to eliminate the heir.

With everything that happened so far, you were aware that time was running out, and you had until the end of the following month to compile all the evidence you could. 

This was your only opportunity to bring the clan to justice.

The moment the new heir was appointed, the clan would be rebranded under a fresh name, and all traces of their previous identity would vanish.

To make everything fucking worse, you had a hint that Kim DoHan was aware of your true intentions.

And early today he wasn’t just talking about you fucking his son.

Tap, Tap, Tap

Someone was tapping quickly on the balcony window in your room.

Ah, yes...

You weren't thinking about your main problem.

And said problem just hauled himself over the balcony railing with ease, his lean muscles rippling under his black shirt. He stood before you, an inscrutable expression on his chiseled face. In the moonlight light filtering through the curtains, his features seemed even more striking - the sharp jawline, the piercing obsidian eyes, the faint scar on his left eye that only added to his rugged appeal.

“Good evening Little flower. Can you let me in?”  he said in his low, melodic voice. He took a step closer. You could smell the heady, sandalwood scent of his cologne, feel the warmth radiating from his body. Your heart thudded in her chest.

“What are you doing here Suga?” you asked as you opened the window, the cold night breeze made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I've been trying to figure something out,besides, I thought it was funny that we both used each other's window as an entrance,” he winked at you “your room smells like Lilies Is that on purpose?” 

“Suga, what are you doing here, are you on drugs?” you let out an inpatient sigh and the black-haired man stopped in front of you and took a lock of your hair still smiling at you “I'm clean as a Russian athlete before the Olympics. Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, when we were alone, did you forget it?” 

“No, I didn't”

Of course you hadn't.

You had imagined calling him by his name when you kissed him again.

But that couldn't happen again. A flash of your conversation earlier with Kim DoHan passed through your mind.

It won’t happen again.

“What are you trying to figure out in the middle of the night in my room, Yoongi?” If you thought that man was close to you before, now Suga was almost completely attached to her body.

"I need your help."

You swallowed hard. "I don't know how I can help you."

He smiled, a slow, dangerous smile that made your knees weak. "I think you do. I see the way you look at me. The way your breath catches when I'm near you," He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers trailing along her skin and igniting sparks beneath her flesh.

“But this is not about that. Although, we could talk about it later” he said.

Your heart raced. You knew after that conversation with Kim DoHan that you were flying too close to the sun, seeing Suga behind his father's back. But you couldn't deny the attraction you felt for him, the way his eyes seemed to look right through you right now.

"What do you need my help with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It's about what you saw last night at Jhope's warehouse," Suga said, pacing back and forth across the room. "Can you tell me everything?."

You felt a surge of adrenaline. This was exactly the kind of opening you were looking for. If Suga trusted you enough to ask, you’ll make him trust you enough to speak. 

"It was awful," you said. “I’ve never seen something like that before.”

"I know, pretty flower, but I really need you to tell me what you saw," Suga said, turning to face you. "I need you to find out what is happening, before it's too late."

You sighed as you began to recall everything you could remember while Suga listened carefully. That man's gaze was the only thing that could terrify her and make her want to run straight towards him at the same time.

"Thank you" he says, taking a step closer to her. "I can’t tell you right now how much you’ve helped me today. But I promise you, it's important."

You feel your heart skip a beat as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from your face.

"I don't know if I can trust you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He takes another step closer and looks deep into her eyes. "You can trust me," he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

For a moment, you stand there in silence, the tension between you palpable. Then, he leans in, taking the lollipop out of his mouth and presses his lips to yours, and you felt yourself melting into his arms.

As you break apart, you realize that you’re in too deep. 

Suga made you feel as if you were running directly towards a cliff.

Ready to jump to the abyss. 

Fuck the consequences. 

“I actually came to figure out something else. You see, last night you were high and I’ve been told not to trust drunken truths. Bu you said you like me-” 

“I don't like you.”  You interrupted him trying to sound as convincing as you could, but Suga could see right through you. He smirked and took the lollipop between his fingers and tapped it to your lips. You understood what he was asking immediately.

You licked the lollipop looking right into his eyes. 

Sweet.

He took it again and put it in his mouth, rolling it around his tongue.

“Good girl. But you taste like lies.” The man ran his thumb delicately over her lips and brought his mouth close to your ear. “If you don't want me to kiss you again, tell me and I won't touch you again” his voice sounded almost like a growl “But if you'll give me your permission, I want to check a second thing”

Flying too close to the sun.

That was exactly what it felt like to kiss Suga.

“What thing?”

“If I really like you enough, that I don't give a fuck about all the trouble you're going to get me into” Now you the one who kissed him this time.

Oh, you were going to burn.

Suga bit your lower lip so that you would open your mouth a little and his tongue could roam freely over yours. His hands moved down from your face and over your neck, shoulders, breasts and hips.

Tonight, it felt different than the first night in his bedroom.

Tonight Suga was a man on a mission. 

His plan was to leave no corner of your body unknown.

Between the haze of desire that you were feeling, your mind came to its senses. 

As an undercover agent, you knew the risks of getting involved with the son of one of Seoul's most powerful mafia leaders.

Kim DoHan had fucking warned you less than four hours ago.

But when he dropped you onto the luxurious bed of your bedroom in the Mansion, you couldn't deny the attraction between you. As his intense gaze swept over your body, you felt a rush of excitement mixed with fear. 

As he leaned in to kiss you, you couldn't help but wonder if this was all part of his plan. Was he using you or did he genuinely want you? You pushed those thoughts aside and surrendered to the pleasure, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“Yoongi.” you sighed between kisses, and to him his name sounded like the best melody he had ever heard in his life.

“Oh, little flower you're going to be the fucking death of me.” he growled lowering his lips to her neck to bite her and she let out a moan. 

That was the last remaining thread of control for both of you.

Yoongi drank your body like a man finding water in the middle of the desert, and when he undressed in front of you, you thought you forgot how to breathe.

The first night, he didn’t take his clothes off. He focused on you, and your pleasure. 

But tonight it was different.

His muscles flexed under his smooth white skin that glistened every time the moonlight landed right on the beads of sweat that ran down his body. Yoongi was covered in small and large scars that danced among the black ink that adorned his body. He had the clan tattoo right on his chest and you wanted to run your fingertips over all his markings and then, then you would kiss them.

As you took him in, your eyes rested for a second on a path of dark hair trailing down his belly inviting you to look just a little lower. You held your breath when you saw him in all his manhood.

He smiled at you, like someone who is about to commit a crime and has absolutely no regrets

“Everything you see is yours. All you have to do is ask nicely” he said, voice deep and musky.  

“I don't beg, ever” you said. He sat on the bed between your legs; both hands caressing the skin behind your knees.

“There's always a first time, flower” he said, not breaking eye contact, and you felt that all the heat of your body traveled to your center. Your skin vibrating with the low purr of Suga’s voice. You realize now the size of him and you wonder if he could fit inside. 

Just like the last time he savored every second, and you realize something about Suga:

He’s a tease.

He wants to bring you close to the edge, just enough you can graze the delicious feeling of the fall; to take you away from it. 

He’s like a cat you think. He is playing with his prey before he finally eats it. 

“Fuck, Yoongi” you whimper when he cups your panties with his hand, applying enough pressure to make you roll your head back and close your eyes. 

“You don't like me. You say. But look how wet this pussy is, and I haven’t even touched you” He’s right, you are arguably the most excited you’ve ever been in your life, and you’re embarrassingly soaked. 

“I never thought Miss Lee NaRi would be a liar” you wanted to pretend that sentence didn’t stroke a nerve in your heart. 

If only he knew.

You can only stare as he lowers himself to lift your shirt inch by agonizing inch. Slowly, he revealed your soft skin. And you had to bite your lip to prevent you from begging him to touch you. 

Luckily he wasn’t in the mood to make you wait any longer as he roamed his hands through your body. “Fuck, flower. You are beautiful,” he said more to himself than to you. But you can’t help but feel happy as you realize that you have the same effect on him as he has on you.

“Can I?” you realize he’s looking at your breasts, and when you nod, he dives down to take one in his mouth, sucking a nipple through the lacy fabric of your bra. You moan, threading your fingers in his dark hair, and you hear the little moan that escapes his mouth encouraging you to pull harder. And without thinking you do. 

Another husky moan leaves his chest as he languidly rolls his tongue over your skin. Reaching behind your back you unclasp your bra and he pulls it off your body to toss it somewhere around the room. 

He looks back at you and the sight that meets his eyes is sinful. Your hair sprawled between the satin pillows and your pupils blown with desire. 

This time you don’t have the effects of the drugs to blame. 

This is all Suga’s work. 

And He knows it.

“How do you want to come, flower? My tongue? My fingers? or…” His gaze trailed down to his member that stood proudly between you two “Or do you want me to fuck you and ruin you for everyone else?”

Your entire body clenches at the last question, and for some reason you agree that fucking Yoongi will, in fact, ruin you. 

“Fuck me” you said half a whisper half a moan. 

“What did you say, pretty flower?” you rolled your eyes at him and before you could bark any answer he slid his fingers between the lace of your panties. Playing with your opening and finding the exact destination with a long stroke. Head snapping back you mean loudly “Do you want me to fuck you? Hm?” his middle finger caressed your clit in circular motions dragging you closer and closer to the climax of your own pleasure. 

“I need your words.” he growled 

“Please fuck me, Yoongi” you moaned his name and he smiled wider. 

“Good girl. Everything you ask for, I’ll give it to you” He hooks his fingers to the elastic band of your underwear and takes it off your body. You assume it fell somewhere close to where your bra landed. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll ruin you for everybody else. But first, I’ll have to stretch you.” he pants as he enters two of his fingers on your cunt “You’re so fucking tight, flower. So fucking perfect for me.” 

You gasp as you feel the delicious stretch of a third finger entering you slowly, his other hand holds you tight by the waist. He leans over your body to kiss you once again and this time you feel like you’ve lost your sense of reality. 

You can still taste the sweet taste of the lollipop on his tongue as you suck on it. Kissing him like you want to take all you can until everything is inevitably taken away from you. 

“I- I fucking hate you” you shudder feeling flustered under his gaze as he moves back to look at you. 

“Don’t start lying to me again” He steps back just enough to lift one of your legs and rest it on his shoulder. You feel your body tremble in anticipation. He slowly rubs his full girth on your swollen clit, that’s when you realize he’s teasing you again. 

He starts moving at a maddening pace. Slowly rubbing himself in wet circles, without breaking eye contact “Lie to me again and see what happens” 

You swallow hard and you can’t help but think you have done nothing but lie to this man.

From the very first day.

 

You planted a mic in his bedroom. 

You are using him to get information so you can bring his clan…

His family to ruin. 

If only he knew, this morning you sent a message to the base with the exact day the clan is planning to announce the heir.

You just gave the Seven Moons away to INTERPOL.

But as he slowly enters you inch by inch and you scream his name you also realize one thing

You are also lying to yourself.

And you don't want to discover how.

“There.” You plead as he pushes his final inch inside you. You whimper and shiver at the delicious feeling of having him fill you to your limits. “Oh my God Yoongi”  

“I think I heard a pretty girl say she didn’t beg” 

“Shut up, and fuck me” 

In one swift motion he pulls out only leaving his tip, just to slam himself back so hard you hear the bed bang against the wall. He starts thrusting hard and you start seeing stars as you forget your own name. 

The slow torturing pace which he touched you is long forgotten as he enters you fast and hard. He’s unforgiving. Raising your hips so he can hit the right spots at the right angle. A moan chokes in your throat as he leans down again to kiss you. 

This time you can feel the cold feeling of his chains against your bare skin. 

“Yoongi” you cry, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks.

“It's okay, flower. I’ve got you. Let go” he grunts as he starts picking an even faster and harder pace. His hands move from your legs to caress your clit moving in rapid circular motion. And the devilish spark that lights on Suga’s eyes tells you he’s onto something. You don’t have to wait too long when he presses his hand down your lower belly to feel himself inside you.

You think you’ve lost your mind, whimpering, moaning and crying of pleasure. 

Suga was right, he just ruined you.

Your body shocks as a white hot wave of pleasure runs through it. Your orgasm hits you hard and he continues to fuck you through it as he gets closer to his not long after. You hear him gasp as he comes feeling the hot ropes of his cum land on your skin. 

“Let me clean you up. Pretty flower, stay here” he pants still not able to regain his breath. As if you could really move. 

He brought a wet towel from the ensuite bathroom to clean you up, and he didn’t leave it until he made sure you were thoroughly cleaned. 

That night Yoongi took you again.

Several times.

You knew you were playing with fire. 

And if you weren’t careful enough.

You will get burned.

But even if you knew you were both risking your lives.

Suga visited your balcony every night for the rest of that week.

And fuck the consequences.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

One week later.

You were in one of the clan's armored vans on your way to meet Anya. You had talked earlier that day on the phone and agreed to meet at her apartment. You managed to convince Namjoon to send you with only one bodyguard.

Now, that was a mistake.

As you exited the freeway and slowed down to cross to the narrower streets the car you were in was rammed by a black SUV.

You felt yourself spinning around in the air.

Shards of glass flew everywhere.

You could only hear the screeching sound of metal hitting the ground.

Ten armed men got out of the cars that surrounded you.

You heard a shot.

Blood.

You were not sure if it was yours or the driver's.

Someone forcibly pulled you off the roof of the car that was now on the ground.

Your head hurt too much.

You wished you had listened to Namjoon about taking more bodyguards.

You closed your eyes and could see Suga's smile the night before, when you were talking in his room.

Yoongi.

Come and save me.

The more you fuck around,

the more you’ll find out. 

And now, you were about to. 

“Make it look like an accident” 

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Well, ahem..... Hello?

You guys know there's always a chapter you would never read out loud I think this is mine. This is actually the first time that I write full on smut... and it was something.

Anyway, how are you guys? I hope we're all doing well, satying healthy and surviving this tour because... Min Yongi is a fucking menace. LIKE!? The rapping? The HAIR??? The whiskey drinking? The "You guys listent too well" UMMMM EXCUSE ME SIR BUT THAT IS ILLEGAL!

And HAEGUM, when i watched the video i giggled and kicked my feet because that is Hate! Yoongi. What a beautiful time to be writing a ganster au.

Ps. Thank you SO MUCH for liking and I have to thank each an every one of you for reblogging Hate! I really, really appreciate it.

From the bottom of my chicken heart,

Thank you.

Love,

Ria 🌙

Tag List @drunkzseok @allamericanuniverse

If you want to join the tag list. You can coment this post or send me an ask!

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts suga #bts mafia au #yoongi #yoongi smut #bts au #bts #run bts #bts jin #bts namjoon

[freedom-in-the-dark]

A Fight Taken To Heart: How Edward Teach Became a Queer Ally in Honor of Charles Vane

This piece was originally written for the fantastic @blacksailszine, which unfathomably came out over a year ago (and you should check it out if you haven't!). Somehow, I managed to procrastinate posting this here for that long, which is asinine. Especially because I'm actually very proud of it!!!

The news about Ray Stevenson today has me emotional (of course) and thinking again about how his performance as Blackbeard had a great impact on me. In his honor, it feels like a fitting day to finally share my tribute to his character on this blog.

Without further ado... please enjoy my meta below 🖤

--------------

The first time we see Edward Teach’s eyes, they’re framed in a mirror with a heart carved above it. Within the context of a scene designed to convey that Teach is a figure who commands fear and respect, this seems to be a curious choice for an introductory shot. Yet, much like many details placed throughout Black Sails’ meticulous narrative, the mirror’s design is poetic in hindsight because Teach’s heart was his ultimate motivation.

Over the course of multiple scenes, the first half of season 3 introduces us to both the pillars of who Teach is as a character and the primary characteristics of his relationship with Charles Vane. Taken as a whole, the picture painted of Teach’s presence in the story is that he acts as a metaphor for heterosexuality, toxic masculinity, and tradition. We learn that Teach had nine wives over the course of eight years, at least partially because he is motivated by the desire for a son. He glorifies strength above weakness, and he defines strength as superior physicality, independence, and sufficient leadership. He reminisces about the original state of Nassau in his youth, in which the standard was an enforced masculinity, powered by the notion that “one had to prove his worth.” And as he says to Vane and Jack in 3x02, in his view,

“You have taken away the one thing that made Nassau what it was. You have given her prosperity. Strife is good. Strife makes a man strong.”

Upon his introduction, Teach sees only the small picture of Nassau, not its place in the bigger picture of the world. He looks upon a Nassau rich in monetary plunder, preparing to come to its own defense or go to war, and he sees the ease in which men can typically join any crew as a marker of a lack of conflict. What he fails to take into account is that the primary strife now originates externally rather than internally because it is the strife of oppression, and that the solidarity that results from that strife creates its own version of strength.

”Why are you so determined to defend Nassau?” he asks Vane in 3x02, because the island is no longer anything special to him. “A lion keeps no den,” he tells Vane in 3x05, “Because the savanna, all the space within it. . . belongs to him.” Teach is not beholden to Nassau for haven or home, because he was able to assimilate into civilization whenever he had cause or desire. He married multiple women, flew under the British flag, and even spoke their “language” of flag codes (3x10). While Teach is certainly a pirate, it is by choice rather than survival.

As a result, he cannot understand the importance of true solidarity amongst the oppressed–and thus, Nassau’s defense–because he’s never needed it, as a straight white man who’s never been limited by oppression. And because this is a narrative where piracy is arguably a metaphor for queerness, filled with characters who do not have the luxury or desire to play by civilization’s rules, Teach sticks out upon his entrance. It’s also partially why he’s initially framed in an antagonistic light; he is not “with them,” and therefore, he is “against them” by default in some capacity.

The exception, of course, is his bond with Vane. Teach is one of many characters motivated by the desire to leave a legacy; as he says in 3x03, “There is an instinct to leave behind something made in one’s own image.” In his case, this manifests as his desire for a son–but he saw parenthood as an opportunity to mold and form another man to be his reflection. Teach wanted Vane to be a copy of him, but Vane never was, and it’s the primary source of the conflicts between them.

Teach had no love lost for Nassau, and so he calls it a “burden” on Vane, while Vane insists that he is “committed to it” and Jack by extension (3x03). Teach scoffs at the idea of such loyalty, deriding and discounting Vane and Jack’s relationship, casting aspersions on Jack’s character in the process–even as Teach demands to receive such loyalty from Vane himself. It’s evident that Teach doesn’t understand core aspects of Vane’s personality and motivations, but Vane is unequipped to explain himself to him.

This is partially because Vane initially doesn’t understand his own motivations either, especially in the face of his father figure’s disapproval. His inner struggle is exemplified in how he’s torn between allegiance to Teach, or allegiance to the rebellion for Nassau’s independence and his people caught in the fight. Flint summarizes Vane’s internal conflict by bringing it to light for him in 3x06:

“They took my home. I can’t walk away from that. Can you? Forget me, forget Teach, forget loyalty, compacts, honor, debts, all of it. The only question that matters is this: Who are you?”

It is not insignificant that a gay man says this to Vane. The struggle of finding oneself is inherently queer as a framing device, especially in the context of a narrative where piracy and freedom are pursued by the marginalized. The fact that wrestling with identity is the defining point in Vane’s arc implies that the answer exists beyond the bounds of what others would ascribe to him. Straight people–particularly in regards to Black Sails’ main cast of characters–are not faced with this question.

And various players do try to ascribe an identity to him. Teach tells Vane that he’s a lion, while the Spanish soldier calls Vane a fellow sheep (3x05); Eleanor lists Vane as the antithesis to civilization (3x01) and calls him an “animal” to his face (3x09). Yet even up to his end, though civilization and history would paint him differently, Vane’s motivations were always painfully human. Vane was driven by emotions on a deeper level than most recognized, and by desire for two primary things: freedom and honest loyalty.

Vane felt empathy for the unfree, and he was defined by wanting to avoid living in chains again at all costs–literally or metaphorically. He explicitly compared the fear that slaves face to the wider struggle of the pirates on Nassau (3x01), and the fear they feel as they sit on “Spain’s gold on England’s island,” expecting a retaliatory response. Vane feared subjugation or submission at the hands of any person or power, considering it a fate worse than death; to him, “no measure of comfort [was] worth that price” (3x08). His manifesto was “side with me. . . and we’ll keep our freedom,” and he said he was “[a man] who would die before being another man’s slave again” (2x06), which became his ultimate fate.

Pursuing freedom defined both Vane’s life and death, but it was not an abstract concept. It was freedom to a purpose: freedom from expectation; to make his own choices; to define home as he saw fit; and, crucially, to surround himself with honest people who provided mutual loyalty and respect without subterfuge or manipulation. This is why Jack, who knew him best and cared for him most, called Vane a “good man” and summarized him this way in 4x07:

“He was the bravest man I ever knew. Not without fear, just unwilling to let it diminish him. And loyal to a fault. And in a world where honesty is so regularly and casually disregarded…”

Vane exhibited and sought both honesty and loyalty. It was also how he expressed his love, and the way he wanted love to be expressed to him in return. That is partially why Eleanor so effectively acted as his downfall: he repeatedly trusted her, but she could not or would not be loyal to him. By contrast, as he told Teach in 3x02, Vane found loyalty and commitment in Jack–and in Anne by extension.

So while “a lion keeps no den,” as Teach said, what a lion does keep is a pride. A lion may be free to roam, but it does so with a family. Teach did not begin to understand the significance of that to Vane until after Vane gave his life not only in the name of freedom, but also in defense of his family and home.

This turns Teach’s earlier question of “Why are you determined to defend Nassau?” into the unspoken question of Why did Charles Vane willingly die to defend Nassau and those who are fighting for it?

When Teach called Nassau–and, to some extent, Vane’s partnership with Jack–a “burden,” Vane tried to explain to him that wasn’t the case. At the time, Teach didn’t listen. He gave Vane an ultimatum: I’ll help protect these people, but you have to leave them, their cause, and your “commitment” behind.

Teach thought leaving all of that behind was freedom, and it was a definition of freedom he thought that he and Vane shared, referring to the two of them as being “of the same mind” (3x05). But Vane was unable to leave his people or their fight behind, because that’s not what freedom meant to him. For Teach, freedom meant solitary independence; for Vane, freedom came to mean solidarity (3x09):

“Because they know that my voice, a voice that refuses to be enslaved, once lived in you. And may yet still. They brought me here today to show you death and use it to frighten you into ignoring that voice. But know this. We are many. They are few. To fear death is a choice. And they can't hang us all.”

After Vane’s death, Teach listens. In the absence of being able to listen to Vane directly, he does the next best thing: he goes to the people Vane valued most and died to protect. In the name of the mutual interest of revenge, he listens to Vane’s family.

At first, Teach obviously thinks Jack and Anne are both weird–to use a different word, he thinks they’re both queer–and he makes that clear in underhanded comments. Neither Jack nor Anne fit into the boxes of “man” or “woman” in the traditional senses that Teach is most accustomed to valuing. He doesn’t understand why Vane would align with them and their cause above all else, or why Vane would be loyal to them and value their unconditional loyalty in return. But Teach seemingly knows that if he can get to know them, then perhaps he can understand what Vane saw in them, and–in turn–learn more about Vane as well. Vane lives on in pieces of them, and so it is upon listening to them that Teach ends up indirectly listening to Vane one last time.

In a discussion spurred by Anne’s concerns, Jack and Teach debate the merits of murdering Eleanor Guthrie or chasing Woodes Rogers, and they bond over their shared understanding and memory of Vane’s “distrust of sentimentality” (4x02). They can chase an empty version of revenge in the name of justice, fueled by emotion... or they can fight to win the war of resistance that Vane gave his life to incite. Between the two of them and their shared grief, and in an echo of Vane’s internalized arc, they find that the only question that matters is this: Who was Vane, and what mattered to him most? They both discover they already know the answer.

For Teach, acknowledging that answer involves fully accepting that Jack and Anne were the family that Vane chose, that the rebellion for Nassau’s freedom was personal enough to Vane that he died for it, and that this is a fight which holds value and necessity that Teach initially misunderstood.

Teach is straight, and his views on masculinity are not fully incompatible with the ones civilization enforces. Oppressive powers hold no true threat for him, because he is capable of assimilation; he could leave Nassau and thus the rebellion for its freedom behind. He always planned to. But after the sacrifice of the man he considered a son, he chooses to become an ally in the fight against white supremacy, and an explicit supporter of Jack and Anne–the queer found family that Vane prioritized, and died to protect.

Teach always thought he was molding Vane into his own image, but the reverse became oddly true instead: Teach allies with the cause, gives his life for it, and indirectly protects Jack and Anne with his final moments, echoing and honoring Vane’s sacrifice.

Woodes Rogers expected to keelhaul Teach into submission by default, through torture no man should have been able to repeatedly survive. But to fear death–to submit to death on anything other than one’s own terms–is a choice. A pirate’s fear is an opponent’s victory; Vane and Teach both knew that, and embodied it. Teach’s unwillingness to let fear diminish him or to be broken by Rogers was largely the result of his own principles and hard-won defiance, but it was also the only reason Jack and Anne narrowly avoided the same fate.

It aligns poetically: in the final months of his life, Teach’s actions were motivated by old shifting shrapnel lodged in his chest and the beating of his heart, which he referred to as “a grim little timepiece” (3x06). And “the louder that clock [ticked]”–the more the shrapnel moved, and the closer his end became–the more inclined he was to pursue happiness and purpose (3x01).

Ultimately, he was keelhauled 3 times, and then he was shot.

For Charles–tick.

For Jack–tick.

For Anne–tick.

And for Nassau–

Boom.

How fitting.

After all, Edward Teach always expected that his heart would bring about his end.

--------------

If you'd like to read more of my meta about this show, here are the other pieces I've written:

• Black Sails, Queer Representation, and the Valid Canonicity of Subtext

(I should crosspost that to tumblr at some point ^)

• The Flinthamilton Reunion Is Definitely Real

• James Flint Is Gay

And my pinned post on Twitter @/gaypiracy has a collection of the shorter posts / writing I inadvisably did on there.

Don't forget to check out the Black Sails Zine for a variety of incredible work :)

#black sails meta #edward teach #blackbeard #charles vane #black sails #edward teach meta #this is mostly going to get seen and scrolled past by people who are into that Other Show now isn't it? probably lol #vanerackham #what on earth is the trio's quasi ship name? #vanerackhambonny #fuck it I don't know #charles vane meta #my meta #okay I'm done. but in all seriousness I'm still very proud of this piece of writing!!!! #thank you to Ray Stevenson for all that he gave us by playing Teach with such gravitas and depth. RIP to a wonderfully talented man

[sinvulkt]

20 Questions For Writers

Wow, thank you so much for the tag @fanfictasia !! I've wanted to participate in something like this forever!! 🎶✨️✨️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Right now? 66.

"Yes, as a star wars writer, I am very proud of that. No, I do not intend to change it anytime soon."

I really need to focus on (and finish) some of my WIPs, and that mean trying not to disperse my energy amidst one shots (no matter how much i love monthly challenges and fic exchange events). Also I'm very proud of that 66 count and want to appreciate it xd.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

321k words!!

(More or less 100k / year 🎶 little me would never believe that 0.0

My school exam results sure don't, with how they are dropping 🤣)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star wars mostly (Vaderkin or my OC Sinvulkt), then Marvel (Dr Strange), Dream SMP (Dream), Le Visiteur du Future (Renard) and more recently Batman (Bruce Wayne) as well as Avatar: the last airbender (Zuko).

Plus the original stories I am supposed to write but almost never end up doing xd (the engagement in fandom compared to original stories make the switch hard xd).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Dreamt of a Never Ending Sky (Dream SMP)

669 kudos

2. To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)

480 kudos

3. On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

380 kudos

4. Scales of Embers (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

353 kudos

5. Crash Landing on Space Australia (Star Wars)

319 kudos

I'll never know how my Dream SMP fic got so much engagement. Good timing at a moment the fandom was in effervescence, I guess. Scales of Embers scoring so high is also a surprise 0.0. I discovered it had that many kudos today. It’s a shame the Dr Strange fandom is small because I think my Dr Strange WIP What If Doctor Strange Lost His Humanity ? would have deserved a place here. It definitely does in my heart.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! As a reader, I always feel super happy when the author shows that they’ve read and appreciated my comments. I know that personality an author who answers make me more likely to want to drop a comment.

As an author, I absolutely want to show how much I love every single comments, so I try to answer them all. But I get a little overwhelmed sometimes, bcs lots of other stuff going on irl or another reason. As such, it can happen that I don't feel the energy to answer a comment on the spot. And if I don't answer it on the spot (using the power of the wiggy dizzy nice happy feeling of getting a comment), I don't necessarily have the energy to answer later on. I currently have something like 60 unanswered comments I think? TT.TT

But rest assured that whether I answered or not, I absolutely adore and cherish every single ones!! Comments are amazing! ✨️.✨️

(This kind of engagement is one of the only reason I managed to settle into such an active rythm of writing after years of trying then dropping the hobby~)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Glance at my fics.

Uhhh... This is a hard question here... Many of them have angsty endings XD

Mostly the ones at the beginning (the worst written ones xd). I wonder why~

Also a lot of them don' have endings yet XD

I'll say amidst the 'old' fics from 2021, Day 8 - Screaming (Star Wars) would be the angstier one (or most horrible one ig xd).

But as far as recent fic go... While I haven't finished writing it bcs its wordcount exploded in my face, I already plotted / drafted it a few months ago and I know the ending, so I'll choose:

Batman’s Downfall (To Stand Alone) (Batman)

I noticed my kind of angst doesn’t have much success around these parts 🫠🤣. Oh well. I cherish it all the same :3.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sometimes I think I wrote too many fics. It's hard to select one.

Uhhh... My fluffiest works are one shots in Of Feathers and Freedom serie, but they are part of the series so it’s not really an 'ending'.

...

I'll answer for the crackiest story rather than the happiest ending bcs all my finished fics ending are ominous open ending at best xd.

The Blob Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi (Star Wars)

Because it's cute blob drawings of our crazy team of OC in taaoej, and I love them (although we are all angst lovers in taaoej, so it's more crack-angst, and we don't know the ending bcs there isn't really one. Not yet at least. Hopefully never).

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Just my own innervoice as far as I'm aware. But then I've always been rather clueless when people tried to 'hate on me'. The message usually just got lost somewhere in dreamspace immensity, never computing.

I've found the fandoms communities really welcoming at the very least!!

9. Do you write smut?

No.

I don't really enjoy reading smut. Nor romance for the matter. I don't think I'd enjoy writing it.

But maybe I'll try one day, for the sake of experimenting all genres.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I never did. I don't know why. Maybe I just never felt the need to mix characters and universes. There are amazing crossovers out there though, so who knows, maybe one day I'll try one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. In all honesty, I don't think my works are nearly popular enough to get stolen xd.

My writing style isn’t that good yet, and my dislike of romance when the majority of the fandom community is ship-powered means I end up in a corner quite niche. (A corner I love, that being said. Yay Crack, Angst and Gen~)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but maybe I'll translate some of mine in french someday. Be it only so that I do write fiction in my native language from time to time.

Anyone that wanna translate my fics, feel free to!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)!!

I’m still waiting for my co-author @purpleopossum to come back to me / get back in star wars mood to continue that one. 🫠

Can’t say my hopes are that high up after all this time, but it’s the redemption | healing part of the serie and I don’t really have fun writing alone redemption | healing part... i prefer doing the whole mayhem that create the injury in the first place. And with how long some of my fics hiatus are (and I got no excuse for those xd), it’s only fair for me to wait. (I did write more other works for the dragon Vader serie in the meantime xd).

I made an oath to myself to never leave a work unfinished though, so we’ll see. If in several years purple still doesn’t wish to continue it, or if she inform me she is dropping the story, I’ll try to make some kind of ending. It’s part of the game i guess.

Alternatively, the The Amazing Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi universe is a group of star wars OCs that we made together with @pat-the-togorian , @asteral-feileacan , @ct2002-rema and Xylian. I don’t know if that count as co-writing? We usually write our OCs pov.

But in all cases, co-writting is very fun and I’d definitely do it again if other opportunities arise in the future.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

The absence of ship is my all-time favorite ship. Otherwise, "main character / digging their own grave" would be my 'favorite ship' since I tend to synch with idiots snarky jerks disasters.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars) that I mentioned for question 13? 🤣

More seriously, I'll answer On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

Because it's my vent fic. I know the main plot line, I vaguely know the current arc, but no one can predict where the next arc will go. It's all pure impulse and while I have a vague idea of 'ending', I refuse to plan a path towards it. This fic specifically, I want to keep pure impulse. So I'd love for it to become some kind of "The NeverEnding Story". :3

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I write.

No seriously, it's not something I did four years ago appart from vent poems here and there. Writing is in itself a huge writing strenght!

Otherwise I'm also a bottomless well of idea. It's pretty neat.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

... romance?

Or dialogues. Lastly I have a lot of frustration around the transition from dialogue / transition / dialogue. I feel like I'm crap at properly timing that.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's fun. I do it for games sometimes. Since apparently writing normally is not chllenging enough for my brain sometimes. It did teach me bits of mando'a.

Recently for Sēċan (Star Wars) I decided last minute to put the whole droid dialogue in morse, and I regret none of it.

I'm usually only doing it for one shots though, and never 'official existing' languages until now.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star wars :p

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Now that's another hard question, how am I supposed to select one.

I'm gonna answer the whole Of Feathers And Freedom (Star Wars) serie. Bcs wings. :3

Tag time~ (if you wish to)

@purpleopossum @pat-the-togorian @cinderfeather @beguilewritesstuff @purple-iris @dreaminghour @ravenite-void @trickstress333 @bluntblade @doctorgeekery @stewardofningishzida @jenae-0 @trickstress333 @kittonafoxgirl @pastelcourage @salparadiselost @kefalion @charlottevader @ravenstakeflight @starr234 @aelaer @sarcasticfirefighter @mckiwi @linzerj @sonderwalker @exomal @tonhalszendvics @nephilimswitchlight @firejay112 @only-here-for-the-star-wars @ajedilikehisfather @makaronik @chickadeechickadoo @dirtkid123 @numerousbees1106 @akizumy @25centsoda @udekai @wendingways @silvereddaye @in-company-of-misery @wisechaosglitter @kuraiarcoiris @alright-anakin @wyvunn you're more than welcome to join on the interview fun!! (Or to ignore the tagging if not interested xd).

I know I tagged. I lot of people. Some of you may recognise my pseud, some may not. But I thought it would be interesting to hear the answer of the various authors with whom I interacted on ao3 over the years, so I went and digged up those with tumblr I could find from my inbox 🤣

(Hopefully I didn’t bother any of you >.< - otherwise I apologize. Same for if I accidentally tagged a non-writer.)

I'd love to hear your answers! 🎶

#ask game #tag game #tagging game #20 questions #20 Questions For Writers #i got far too good at tracking down ao3 people's tumblr xd #it's the fault of the quotes under my tag fragments of imagination #since i try to always check if the author is on tumblr to tag them when i post one of those quotes #well i had a lot of fun #i love interactions XD #so that kind of ask game makes me happy #with it i can feel as a proud writer yay~ #tumblr game #writing #writer on tumblr #fanfiction writer #yes this took me hours #wrll mostly the tracking and tagging xd #answering was worth it

[thatonebirdwrites]

Fandom creators tag game

1. What sort of content do you create, and what is the thing you’ve made that you’re most proud of?

I write stories. Usually original science fiction, but in the past two years, I've branched into fanfiction. I also create art and music.

I'm damn proud of my rewrite of Book 2 of Legend of Korra in my Shared Moments series.

I wish I could find a publisher for my original fiction; then I could share what I'm most proud of but alas. The publishing market is incredibly hard to get into and I don't have the health to self-publish, so we'll go with the Korrasami tales for now. For art, I'm damn proud of this piece I did of Lena.

2. What fandom(s) do you create for?

Korrasami from Legend of Korra.

Supercorp from CW's Supergirl

Rojarias from CW's Supergirl.

3. What is your current favourite ship (or brotp if you prefer), and how controversial is it?

Korrasami. Not controversial much at all. (As a side note, Supercorp feels like an angstier Korrasami. Might be why I like that ship equally well. Supercorp doesn't seem controversial?)

4. For your answer to question 3, are they canon?

Yes, Korrasami is canon. (Supercorp isn't necessarily canon, but there's so much evidence of it in the show that it might as well be.)

5. What was your first fandom, and how old were you?

First fandom I created something for? Or first fandom where I dived into and read everything I could? Because if it's read everything I could, then it's Star Wars before Disney threw out the old Canon (still salty about that). I'd have been pretty young -- still a kid when I was devouring all the Star Wars books. I didn't have any favorite ship though while I did this.

For something I created, Korrasami was the first one I wanted to create art and writing for to be honest. That was three years ago when I started writing Korrasami.

6. What is your most unhinged fandom creation to date?

Oh, that's a Supercorp one. I was inspired by a weird camera glitch, and wrote an unhinged horror set after season 6. The first part of it is in tumblr. I have yet to publish to AO3 mostly because I want to finish more of it before I do. Sort of loosely based on Lovecraft's Color out of Space.

7. Do you remember what started you off creating fandom content, and if so, what was it?

Three years ago I first started drawing and writing Korrasami. Then I branched out into Supercorp.

8. Do you let people you know in real life see your fandom creations?

Only my trusted friends and siblings.

9. How do you feel about fanworks of fanworks? Has anyone ever made something based on a thing you made?

If anyone did, they have never shared it with me. I would love to see it, and I'd treasure it always!

Though if I'm being honest. I doubt I'll ever get fanworks. Why would anyone go to that much trouble for something I wrote? I doubt anything I write is worth that much.

10. What feeling do you most often try to evoke with your creations?

I want to show possible healing journeys that aren't the most painful angstfest known to humanity. I want people to feel the journey too, to capture the world within the character's senses so that their tale feels real.

Whether I achieve this, I have no idea. Some people have written very kind comments stating that I have, and I am delighted by those comments.

11. Has someone ever paid your work a compliment (in any form) that has stuck with you, and what was it?

Two people have said I made a place feel alive through the storytelling and worldbuilding I did. That compliment haunts me in all the best ways, and I have done my best to try to keep that tradition going.

12. What’s your favourite thing someone else has made that you’ve seen in the last 24 hours (and link it if you can find it again!)

It was a Supercorp art piece, but after searching, I can't seem to find it again. It was Lena leaning backwards into Kara's arms, while Kara gently holds her. Colored piece, digitally drawn I think. They look almost like they were swaying back and forth.

13. Give a small sneak preview of something you’re working on right now (eg a couple of sentences of fic from a WIP, a gif set theme, a small piece of a larger picture, whatever you feel happy to share)

Korrasami:

Korra looked at their entangled hands. “Yeah, yeah, it’s just some stitching.”

“And yet, that ‘some stitching’ made something wonderful.” Asami was determined to remind Korra of what she could do. It’d been her mantra for the past six months. She wanted Korra to regain her confidence, but it'd been difficult. Thanks to Asami's foolishness they'd both backslid.

Korra had called it Asami’s paranoia.

Maybe they were both right.

Supercorp:

Lena rises before dawn, prepares her corporate armor, and heads to her full-time job as CEO of L-Corp. Today’s agenda includes four meetings, one of them with the board, an hour of lab time, a brief lunch, and a visit to Florence in late afternoon.

It’s the visit with Florence that troubles her the most. The exposure to the strange artifact gave her unsettling dreams, and she woke in a cold sweat after a particularly gruesome one. In that one, she’d had no control over her body, only watched in horror as another person used her abilities to harm all she loved.

Kara had woken too, and her gentle reassurances had helped Lena fall back asleep, this time with no dreams.

Diving into work to escape the nightmares is how she copes. Perhaps not the healthiest, but undoing all her bad coping mechanisms will take far longer than just admitting they exist.

Rojarias:

Tomorrow morning? Sam reeled from the news. That gave her very little time to pack and prepare Ruby for Sam being gone a week or two.

Yet here she was again, unable to say no. Especially not when two beautiful women were looking at her expectantly.

Damn, Sam was too gay for this. “All right. Tomorrow it is.”

14. Have you ever seen/read anything made by the person who tagged you? If so, what was it and what was your favourite thing about it? (pick a favourite if there are several)

Yes, I have. I'm not entirely sure what exactly they published on AO3 however. I found the tiny Kara piece absolutely hilarious.

15. Do you leave comments on fandom works, and if so how would you describe your comment style?

I do leave comments, yes. I share my enjoyment of the piece, sections that really stood out to me, and/or an overall feeling I got from the piece. I'm trying to be more consistent about it since I know how much comments mean to me as a writer, and I know other writers enjoy them too!

16. How many works in progress do you currently have? Will you finish them all?

Original fiction: (on hiatus but I do plan on finishing) 3

Korrasami: 2 (plan on finishing them, yes).

Supercorp: 3 (yes, plan on finishing them.)

Rojarias: 1 (yes, I need to get on this as it's due next month actually).

Art for Supercorp: 1 (I also need to work on finishing this before the due date next month. I got the rough sketch and need to run it by the author to make sure it's what they want, before I go to town inking it).

17. what’s the longest it’s ever taken you to finish a fandom project?

Shared Moments: Books 1 through 3 (the finished ones) took me a year. A million words no less. Whew. I'm working on Book 3.5 now. I tend toward longer works, which takes a few months to complete.

My shorter fiction (the ficlets) take less than an hour usually.

For art, it takes me one to three weeks.

18. Describe the thing you made most recently in a way that is technically true, but also completely misleading. Link the thing if it’s published!

These paralleled kisses shake their world. (A chapter for Unraveling Realities)

19. Do you ever engage with fanworks for a fandom you’re not in? Which one(s) and how did you get into it?

I'm not really sure what counts as being "in" a fandom or not. If I enjoy something, I'll engage with it, but does the engagement mean I'm "in" the fandom now? Or do I have to create something and talk with others in the fandom to be considered "in?" How does this work?

20. Recommend a fan work from your fandom to your followers

I absolutely adore Make this your home by pcrtifacts so much I even made fanart for it. It's not finished, but it's regularly updated and so, so good.

Suggested tag list, but there are no rules here, follow your heart.

A mutual you have never actually spoken to but think seems cool -- All my mutuals are really cool! And I'd love to read more of their stuff. Thanks all of you for sharing your stuff!!

The most recent person whose content you engaged with (eg read a fic, reblogged art, whatever form you feel best fits) -- I'm not sure? Maybe the person I reblogged this from?

Someone whose content you saw via tags/reblogs and you followed them because of it @luthordamnvers (I honestly love the indepth knowledge of the show nic has, how willing to share that knowledge, nic's kindness, the fics they write. Honestly, all around wonderful person.)

Someone in your fandom that you think makes cool things @ekingston (Shape of Soup being my favorite plus the art is amazing.)

Someone in a different fandom that you think makes cool things (this is hard. I really only seem to follow or find Korrasami, Supercorp, and on rarer occasions Rojarias or Dansen. There's some Star Wars folks that do fun things, but I can't remember their usernames tho.)

Someone you always tag on things like this @nottawriter

Someone you have never tagged before (I can't remember who I tagged before, so I guess whoever wants to play this game?)

Someone you would like to get to know better @pcrtifacts (love, love their make this place your home fic. And chatting in comments with pcrtifacts has been lovely.)

Someone who makes art you like -- @snazzy-korra (honestly, she's an all around amazing person, and Iove all her art and chatting with her. So grateful for our chats too.)

Someone who writes fics you like: @fazedlight (I seriously love everything mel writes. It's all so damn good. I even wrote a fanfic continuation of a piece I really liked of mel's ficlets. First and only time I've ever done that.)

I suspect some of these people have been tagged multiple times. My apologies if so. But I did want y'all to know how you're appreciated and how much I enjoy your content too. :)

#korrasami #supercorp #writing #writer #fandom questions #just for fun

[murdrdocs]

this was written so quick and i’ll format it all pretty later on but i gotta watch episode 9. also might write a full thing !!SLIGHT VOL 2 SPOILERS based on steve wanting “six nuggets”

Your voice was hoarse, your back hurt, and you were sure that a sunburn was coming along on your shoulders.

The RV was immensely hot, the AC long ago deciding to quit. And while you were really upset about the lack of central air in the vehicle, you were happy about the lack of noise within it as well.

Towards the back of the RV, sleeping in a civilized way that was unexpected for them, was your two kids. Your baby girl was holding the comfort doll she decided to take for the trip, and your boy was holding a balled up paper towel that he’d been clinging onto for the past 24 hours.

They both still smell slightly of bug spray, thanks to the loads that you and your husband sprayed onto them before hiking along the trail in Washington.

You could still smell that same bug spray on Steve beside you. Yet, it was overpowered on him by the smell of sunscreen and cologne, which you didn’t know why he insisted on wearing when there was usually no one around to compliment him about it.

The song on the radio ends, as does Steve’s humming to it, and now, he’s focused on you.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks, voice low since your baby boy suddenly decided to pick up light sleeping.

You sighed, happily and satisfied, and rolled your head over to look at Steve, his eyes glancing between your face and the road every so often.

“How I miss the AC.” You eventually say, a bit of a smile evident in your tone. Steve picks up on it, because he huffs out a quiet laugh in reply.

“Yeah. Me too.”

There’s not much more to say, the quiet of the open road to the sunnier parts of the west coast taking over the Harrington RV once again.

Your eyes find the clearness of the cracked window and you focus on the comforting darkness of the night, that same dark that was horrifying some 10 years ago when you both were teens and fighting to save your town.

But now you’re adults. Happily married adults. Who, instead of fighting to save the town, are instead fighting to wrangle your kids into bed at a reasonable time.

You turn your head to look back at them, a smile that can only be described as proud coming to your lips.

“Don’t get too happy now,” Steve’s voice cuts into your moment. “We’ve still got 3 more to go.” He gestures to your belly, bringing your attention to it.

Your hands are already on the small bump, as was second nature at this point.

And although the RV was already too warm for its own good, the warmth coming from your belly soothes you, makes you feel at home even though you’re thousands of miles from it.

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #celeste writes st #stranger things #stranger things x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things vol 2 #harringtonsworld!

[schmem14]

20 questions for fic writers!

Thanks for the tag @maesterchill! Read their answers HERE.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

My stats tell me that I've written 50, but 5 are multi-chapter collections, so... a lot. Yeah.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

733,820. If you asked me three years ago if I could ever write that much I would've laughed in your face. Isn't growth amazing?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Harry Potter (though I do read some Good Omens, Carry on Simon and Bagginshield stuff)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

UGH. I don't want to be honest here, since 2 of the five are Dramione fics I've now listed as ANON because of harassment reasons. I'll give you the NEXT five instead ;) 1. 93 Diagon Alley (Harry x George) They were roommates 2. HP Cocktober 2022 Collection (Multiple) Prompt fest 3. Solace (Harry x George) Unhealthy coping mechanisms (sex) 4. When Malfoy Met Granger... (Draco x Hermione) WHMS remake 5. Mistletoe, or Die F***ing (Harry x Fred x George) Self-explan.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I try to, because the BEST part of sharing is connecting with people who enjoy what I've done. Community, ya know?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Mastermind (Draco x Hermione, Draco x Harry, Draco x Ron, Ron x Harry) The worst UHEA I've ever inflicted on y'all is this Dronarry fest 2023 story. Dark stalker Draco goes off the rails in the end. It's a masterpiece, I'm so proud of it.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

From Sunset to Star Rise (Harry x Ron) Cozy fall vibes, falling in love, little to no angst (Ron has a tiny bit of anxiety, that's all)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. Mainly the bigger ship ones (Dramione, looking at you) If you're wondering WHY I write rare pairs a lot, it's because rare pair fandom is a safe space with AWESOME people. We may be few in number, but WE GO HARD and LOVE HARDER.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

ALL KINDS (though I'm not great a fluffy smut). Check out my HP Kinktober Collection 2023 posting daily RIGHT NOW. It's very kinky and dark.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

The closest I've come to crossover is more like "inspired by a vibe." I wrote a Community (TV Series) inspired paintball fic here: All's Fair in Love & War & Paintball (multiple ships)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, BUT I've had people post me on Goodreads. Read my thoughts on why this is bad fandom etiquette HERE

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had many requests, but no one has followed through yet.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No! But I'm interested in this concept, especially if the co-author is someone I vibe with.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

STAWP. It's too hard a question! Lately, I'm obsessed with Dronarry, and any combination of those three. I also think I'm more in love with stories than ships. If it's an amazing story I end it with "OMG this is the BEST EVER" and I say it about a lot of ships.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'm writing a multichap Drarry fic where Draco is a wandmaker, and it's falling in love fluff. I'm terrified to write them because I feel like I'll get torn to shreds because the Drarry fandom is too amazing for the likes of little old me. I'll just read Drarry and call it good, and MAYBE I'll get the courage to finish someday.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ideas. I'm chockful of ideas. Also, I read a ton, so I think the more you read, the better you write.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fluff. I HATE writing fluff. Why is it so hard?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't typically do it because I'm monolingual and don't want to fuck it up. I don't mind when others do it

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

How to Care for Your Monster Book: A Guide by Rubeus Hagrid  (Hagrid x Monster Book of Monsters) Y'aaaaaallll... I have no regrets about this fic. It's the only fic I've ever written that is perfect, I'll never top it, it's just so funny and weird (like me).

Tagging: @the-francakes @mugsdontlie @swoontodeath @vukovich @mintawasalreadytaken @peachpety @nv-md @lumosatnight and anyone else who wants to

#tag game #20 questions