#also this is probably like my first official fic ive written so sorry if it kinda sucks lol

[sonderthroughthestreets]

Splitting Universes

Here is the sobbe fic that I wanted to write for their anniversary last friday but obviously im late for it lol

Someone said that Sander said “In every universe” because it comforts Robbe with his multiverse theory and that Robbe said “At least in this universe” because it comforts Sander who believes that life is what you choose to make of it. Sooooo, here is Sander painting on Robbe’s back while talking about the universe and brown-haired Sander asking Robbe to marry him. Hope you enjoy!

“Hold still, will you?” Sander’s voice faltered into a chuckle.

He was sitting on the floor, back to the edge of the bed, legs crossed, holding Robbe as he tried to glide his paintbrush across the skin on his back. The two of them had summer break before the start of the next year and they’d somehow found themselves fooling around, dancing in Sander’s room and finally settled into a spark of an idea in Robbe’s mind to let him paint his back. His shirt was gone and he’d sunk into the floor, crossing his legs too, leaning forward instead of letting himself lean back in the comfort of Sander’s arms.

“The paint is cold. I’m cold ok,” Robbe scoffed, turning his head to try to meet his eyes with a smile. But Sander smirked with half-lidded eyes and pushed his head back into place. He let out a breath of the tiniest laugh.

It was killing Robbe not to look at him. Especially not after he grew out his hair. Sander had cut it a few years ago and let it go back to its natural brown, let the bleach blond wash out and wash away. It was terribly short then, but now it had grown out in longer locks that he just had to style every morning. Today, it was tousled in a messy-but-every-hair-was-perfectly-in-place kind of way. It looked similar to when his hair was bleached but darker roots had replaced the white wash. Some days Robbe could swear he’d seen Sander like this his whole life and others he felt like he was looking at a whole new world.

He also wished that he could see his face right now, the concentration he wore when a creative mood strikes.

“Are you almost done?” Robbe asked.

“Not even close,” Sander answered, his fingers moving swiftly, changing between brushes and colours.

“Can you at least give me a hint?”

“Mmhhh,” he mused. “It’s something we talk about a lot.”

“That could literally be anything,” Robbe pouted. He wanted to know what Sander envisioned across his back.

“Let’s talk about it now,” he dipped his brush in water. “You think that when someone makes a decision, the universe splits itself,” he said. Nothing more. Silence as Robbe contemplated.

“You’re painting me the universe?” Robbe shifted to try to look back at him.

“Hold. still.” Sander gripped his shoulders.

“What kind of universe?” Robbe pondered. He lazily ran a finger down his own palm as he awaited his answer, the fan humming in the summer heat.

“I don’t know” he smiled, though Robbe couldn’t see it. “Any universe you want.”

The way he said that made Robbe smile too. The way that when he said it, he meant all the universes, that he could have any universe because in all of them, one way or another, they were together.

“Hhmmm,” Robbe murmured in contentment. He stared around Sander’s room: the Bowie posters spread across the walls, his camera laying on his disorganized desk, papers and drawing utensils scattered, his easel in the corner, the dresser off to the side, his clothes neatly folded on the bed. The open window let the warm breeze through and the sky made everything in his room glow the softest, palest blues, greys and greens. Robbe’s eyes finally landed on his shirt discarded on the hardwood floor and he felt shivers all over again as cold paint slid on his skin.

It was moments like these where they talked some, then fell into silence, talked some more and finally fell into each other’s touch that eased both their minds. Sander was very quiet now.

“What are you thinking?” Robbe asked.

A sort of sad smile crossed his face, one that he couldn’t see.

“Sander.”

And Sander knew that tone all too well. He delicately placed a hand on Robbe’s neck, softly smiled into his hair and kissed his head. Once, twice, a third time for good measure.

“Do you remember our first night at the hotel?” he asked softly.

“How could I forget?” Robbe sighed happily. But his fingers weren’t on him anymore and Robbe actually felt heat dissipate from behind him as Sander leaned back a bit. He turned his head the slightest, hesitant to look at him for fear he might actually ruin the work on his back. Robbe waited patiently. He recognized his insecurities at play but he wasn’t quite sure of what.

“I know that..” Sander started. “I know that that night I wasn’t...but I meant every word...and I know that I asked once already...”

He was grasping for courage to say what he wanted. Robbe knew he could be ever so confident in his words, even more so in his touch, but sometimes it faltered and he saw him sheepish and insecure. Things started to click in Robbe’s mind. They hadn’t exactly talked about this since that night. At least not seriously. It was always fun banter, like an inside joke or like the continuation of an ongoing plan that may or may not ever be seen through. They were so busy living in the moment, the future had seemed so far away.

It had been

“When we get married I’m painting everything in the house. We’re not buying prints”

“When we get married?”

“We’re getting married right now”

It had been

“Mr. Driesen”

“Oh, we’re married now?”

“In my mind we are”

It had been

“Do you think I should get another ring?”

“Depends. Do you want to be called Mr. Ijzermans?”

It had been

“You’re making croques again? Marry me”

“Okay”

Laughter and kisses always followed. Comfort in agreeing a million different ways was always found. But a concrete, tangible answer was never there.

Robbe understood now why Sander had seemed hesitant and unsure with all this talk of the universe and decisions. They’d been together for more than two years now yet they hadn’t really made official plans for marriage. They were still studying in uni which meant of course, they’d wait until after, but it was never a conversation that lasted very long. While Robbe had talked about all his theories, Sander had made sure to tell him that he’d choose him in every universe. But sometimes it seemed he became overwhelmed with that many versions of them and he didn’t want to think of a world where they might not choose each other every day. Robbe shifted his legs carefully and placed a hand on Sander’s knee, feeling the fabric of his shorts cling in the heat. A signal, a sign, a plea to carry on. They could both feel a nervousness set in, their hearts fluttering in this fleeting moment.

Sander sighed.

“Robbe Ijzermans” he said. “Will you marry m-“

He didn’t even get to utter the question before Robbe turned around, took his face in his hands and connected their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

 When someone makes a decision, the universe splits itself.

 Sander had a lot of time the past couple of years to think of this. Robbe loved to talk about the multiverse theory, the parallel universes, and the alternate dimensions. He talked his ear off about how each can be so different and in one he’d find himself being a skater or a gamer, in another he’d find himself studying anthropology, and in another he may even have gone to an elite school. Or more so maybe he could’ve been the one studying art instead. Or how he could be in one where he didn’t meet his friends, in one where he didn’t have to miss his mama so much growing up, or one where his dad made different choices. Choices. Decisions. It always came back to that. If we all made different decisions, life could’ve been very different, Robbe had said. And once we make a decision, there are two worlds, one where you chose one thing, another where you chose different.

Whether Sander wanted to admit it or not, that scared him a lot. It scared him to think there could be a world where he continued on with Britt or worse, one where he hadn’t met Robbe. And with each decision solidifying closer and closer a world where Sander and Robbe stay together, he had wondered if living in this universe was enough. If not thinking of the other worlds and staying here together was enough. 

Robbe had soothed his worries, tapped the worry lines on his forehead, kissed his temple and had run fingers softly through his auburn hair. He had reminded him of his own theories of life becoming what you choose to make of it. He had reminded him that they were together in this universe.

But nothing was reminding him of that fact more than this kiss they were now sharing.

Sander’s fingers tangled in Robbe’s hair, now a bit longer and fluffier, his mouth softly tracing unspoken words into his lips. He felt Robbe’s hands slide from his face to his neck to grip his black t-shirt and pull them up as they both rose to their knees, a more comfortable position than before. They both let each other fill their lungs up in this hot, searing kiss, somehow both passionate and gentle. Sander breathed out as he broke apart first.

“Will you?” he teased.

“Yes,” Robbe pulled him in for another kiss. “Yes.”

And just like that a decision was made, a world was created.

Sander broke the kiss again.

“I don’t have a ring for you,” he smirked.

“I don’t care,” Robbe’s mouth etched up as he drew closer, searching his lips. Both of their eyes twinkled in an enticing, tantalizing manner. Instead Sander leaned back and smiled, standing up to get his ring from the dresser.

“Here,” he slipped it onto Robbe’s slender finger.

“Thank you. It doesn’t fit,” he snorted because sure enough, it was a little loose and sliding off his hand. This proposal was far from the real thing Sander had planned, especially since they were still students, struggling to keep afloat in the midst of studies and spending time together, but this moment was finally real.

As Sander took back the ring and slid it on his own hand, Robbe asked,

“Did you really paint the universe on my back?”

Right. He’d almost forgotten what prompted him to think about their future together in the first place.

“Come,” he tilted his head in the direction of the bathroom in the hall. He took Robbe’s hands and lead him to the mirror where he turned him around and showed him.

It was a galaxy of stars and sparkles, colours of blacks, dark purples, greens, pinks and blues all mixed into a combination of an ethereal light. It was everything Sander had been thinking about with Robbe. His fears, his doubts, his joy, his love.

“In every universe, right?” Sander entwined his fingers with Robbe as they both stared at his back in the reflection. Robbe took the time to stare at it a while longer.

“Yeah,” he said. Then he looked at Sander with dark, dilated eyes, squeezing his hand. “But especially in this universe, too.”

[rollercoasterwords]

Hello! I’ve read ATYD’s Sirius Perspective and it’s brilliant. (Dare I say even better than the original….) Are you a writer by profession? I really like your writing style, storytelling and characters. I would love to read more you have written. Sorry if you’ve answered elsewhere, just learning Tumblr.

hi!! thank u so much this made my day lol i am not, unfortunately, a writer by profession but that would be the dream if i thought it was feasible! it’s definitely a lifelong goal of mine to publish a book one day, but who knows if that’ll ever happen 🤠

ive been writing since i was a kid (if literally any of u have heard of quizilla that site was my introduction to writing on the internet when i was in middle school) but it’s only ever been for fun, and especially in college most of what i worked on was just short stories and poems. the only writing that i’ve semi-officially published is a paper in an undergrad research journal lol

and in terms of fanfic—i really didn’t get into writing it until my final year of college when i decided i wanted to read the captive prince series from laurent’s perspective, so i just….wrote it 🙉 and then this past fall was my first year out of school living in a new place and working a new job, and i was no longer writing all the time for my degree and decided that i wanted to read atyd from sirius’s perspective, so now we’re here 🕺

in conclusion there’s not a whole lot that i’ve written out there on the internet, but i feel like i’ve now been sucked into the world of marauders fanfiction and will probably keep writing it for a while, so hopefully there’ll be more soon!

(also just a quick note on the comparison to the og thing—i do v much appreciate the sentiment behind comments like this and i know that people will have preferences for different writing styles, but i don’t want to take away from the fact that my fic is so heavily rooted in mkb’s story and like 70% of the dialogue is not my own, nor did i come up with most of the plot, and it was never my intention to like…compete with her. just don’t want to be taking more credit than i deserve!!)

[planetsam]

if you're down for doing another wedding/marriage prompt, something in that au with michael finding out about alex's injury?

The main fic is here. 

By the time they figure out who he is, Alex is back in the US.

The call comes, not surprisingly, while Michael is thinking about Alex. The copper ring is big, big enough to slide over the joints of his fingers even though it’s never truly comfortable. Spinning it is the most rehab he’s done on the injury. He’s in the airstream spinning the ring and thinking about the latest time Isobel told him that he was wasting his life and no-one was going to want to marry him and come home to his trailer. The irony was not lost on him. His phone rings and he barely says anything before the voice of a perky woman comes through.

“Captain Manes has just started his rehabilitation and he’s got a long road ahead of him—“

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, “who is this?”

“I’m with the VA,” she says, “I found your name in Captain Manes’ records, you’re an alternate medical proxy.”

Michael wonders how far down the list he is.

“Okay,” he says.

“Captain Manes is here and he’s just started rehab and I thought a visit might cheer him up.”

“I’m the last person Alex wants to see right now,” he says, “is his dad there?”

“No he left,” she says and he almost hears her hesitate, “he might not want to see you,” she says, “but I think he needs to.”

Michael does not have an answer for that. So he shows up. He’s led through a few hallways to a rehab room. There’s a lot of people doing exercises. They’re missing limbs or horribly burned—there’s no one here whose walking away unscathed. Michael looks around and keeps his face apathetic until he finds Alex. It takes him a moment to recognize him which says more about this than Michael wants it to. The first time he sees Alex in years is as he’s holding himself between two long bars taking hesitant steps.

Michael remembers Alex, whip thin and fast. He also had a brief brush with a well muscled Alex, just branded as a member of the US Armed forces. Neither of these is the Alex who has anger written on every line of his body. Whose grey T-shirt is soaked in sweat as he moves awkwardly down the pale wood bars. Every line of him screams pain and tension, not the wariness and defiance Michael is so used to seeing. Not even the defeat.  It’s the harshness that catches him off guard. Like someone has erased the man he loves and carved him back with lines that gouge the paper. His arms give out and he goes down hard, even gripping the bars isn’t enough to stop him. Michael feels the impact down in his bones as Alex makes a sharp sound through his teeth. The entire place is full of men yelling through their teeth, shoving everything down and itching for more war.

Alex does not belong here.

Alex looks like them.

Alex rolls onto his back and claps his hand over his mouth. Shiri, the therapist, hangs back a respectful distance and something in Michael snaps. He’s moving before he can think of what he’s going to say when he gets there. It doesn’t matter because the only thing he can think is that he has to get there. Now. He gets there before Shiri does, crouching down. Alex’s eyes are closed but he stills and Michael knows he can sense him. Sure enough when he opens his eyes, they are already on Michael’s. Michael doesn’t know what he thinks as he looks at him and he realizes they probably have Alex on painkillers. When he blinks it takes a moment for him to focus again. He looks from Michael to Shiri and back to Michael. When he pushes himself up, Michael sees the happy surprise on Shiris face.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks and his voice is rough and hoarse.

“I’m your reward for doing so well,” Michael says.

“Bullshit,” Alex replies and for a moment he looks so disgruntled Michael’s heart soars.

“Attaboy,” Michael says and looks at her, “doc?”

“You called him?” Alex says.

“Yes,” she tells him, “you need support—“

“Not from him!” Alex argues, “where did you even find his name?”

“Your medical forms, there’s an amendment you added after signing.”

Alex went back and added him. It would be amazing if it wasn’t cut with the look of disgust and anger he’s giving him. The edge of that is taken off by the drugs. For a moment Michael thinks he can just call it. This was a mistake and Alex is furious to see him. End of story. Even Shiri seems to think this is a bad idea for how she’s looking at them. Great, Michael thinks he should go before he does the opposite and makes things worse. He looks at Shiri who shakes her head slightly, clearly telling him to just sit there.

“Alex,” she says, “why don’t you want him here?” Alex opens his mouth and shuts it, shaking his head. Michael feels his chest hurt at his reaction. “I can keep guessing,” she offers.

“I don’t want anyone to see me like this,” Alex says, refusing to look at him.

Now that is a surprise.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen anything close to pride on Alex’s face. Not since the hammer incident. And maybe once when they were officially married. But this is pride much closer to the kind that Jesse Manes has. That wounded kind. Alex has so much to be proud of. Way more than his father who, as far as Michael is concerned, has only accomplished creating Alex with his miserable life. Shiri is nothing but sympathetic. She has no idea how ridiculous the idea of Alex being ashamed of Michael seeing him is.

“I’ve had these jeans longer than I’ve known you,” he says, “I stole this from by brother-in-law which means my sister is dressing me. Come on, man, look at me. You look like you belong in the Avengers and I look like I escaped from an 80s cigarette add. I mean I’m not worthy to look at you but seriously, when have I ever been?”

Alex doesn’t relax but his eyes drag over to Michael who tries to grin at him. Alex’s features crumple but he doesn’t cry. He bites his lip and everyone’s eyes go to the place that Michael has been doing his best to avoid looking at. Alex’s leg is fitted into a sleeve that comes into a metal pole. He bends over the limb and Michael wants to demand to know what the hell’s going on. Shiri snaps from cheerleader to medical professional and kneels in front of Alex. She snaps on a pair of gloves and slides a hand under his thigh. Before he can remember why it’s a bad idea, Michael scoots closer and braces Alex against his side, reaching out and gripping his hand. He expects to be thrown off but Alex sags into him and grips his hand. Michael tears his eyes away from what’s going on to look down at Alex who is finally looking at him with something other than shame.

“Hey stranger,” Michael says, “rough day?”

“Y-you could say that—“ Alex cuts off with a sound and Michael is suddenly desperate not to look.

“Well the drive here was hell if you were wondering,” he says, desperate to keep Alex focused on him. He’s desperate for a lot of things, “apparently Noah wanted to wear this shirt and Isobel realized I took it. I don’t know what the difference is between this and the dozen other white shirts she’s bought him—“ Alex whimpers, “but apparently it’s crucial.”

“I can’t believe your sister’s still dressing you,” he says and breathes an unmistakable sigh of relief.

Michael’s going to be sick, is the only thing he can think. His hand looks like chopped meat but that’s nothing compared to what’s going on with Alex. His leg is gone below the knee and an angry red line traces the new edge of the limb. It’s swollen and puffy, there are sores that are leaking pus. It’s infected. Shiri presses her lips in a tight line and puts the gauze back. Michael can suddenly feel how hot Alex is. Alex isn’t just without a leg, Alex is sick. Sick and drugged. Michael has never associated hospitals with anything good but if Alex dies in one—

“Page the doctor,” she says and comes forward, “Alex I want you to follow my finger,” she says. He does it right because she moves on to taking his pulse as he leans more against Michael, “sit tight,” she says and moves back to the leg.

“It’s awful, I know,” Alex says quietly, voice still laced with pain.

“Why didn’t they call me?!” the words come out harder than he expected them to. But he doesn’t care. Alex looks up at him, “I thought they were going to call me if you—“ he thinks about Alex dying and his stomach rolls, “they were supposed to tell me.”

“Eventually,” Alex reminds him.

“I want to be notified sooner,” he says, looking at Alex, “I want to know if you’re injured or hurt or—“ he can’t say it, confronted with the reality of the situation, “God, Alex.”

“Captain Manes,” the doctor comes over, “I see we’re still pushing ourselves on the bars,” she scolds, looking at the limb, “let’s get you back to your room. Is this—“

“He’s family,” Alex says.

“Excellent, would you mind lending a hand?”

Alex looks unsure and though Michael still wants to throw up he nods and smiles weakly.

“Long as it’s just a hand,” he says.

The joke doesn’t land.

They get Alex back and someone hooks an IV to a port. The room is bare and devoid of anything. Alex’s autonomy is gone and Michael feels sick at the realization. The doctor leaves after another inspection and then they are alone. Alex sits up perfectly straight and looks anywhere but where Michael is and finally unable to take it, Michael moves from the chair to sit on the bed, making sure the their good thighs are touching. He grabs Alex’s hand and Alex finally takes a deep breath and looks at him.

“They shouldn’t have called you,” he says, “I’m alive. We did this so you would know if I was dead,” he continues, “and I’m not—“

“I can see that.”

“So there wasn’t any need. I think you should go,” he finishes. Michael stares at him. “I want you to go,” he says.

Michael searches for any sign that he doesn’t mean it but only sees resolve. Alex hates showing weakness or vulnerability or anything that can be used against him. Michael would tell him that he’s not going to listen but he can’t do it. If this is the last shred of autonomy Alex has, he can’t take that from him. Alex goes to pull his hand away but Michael grips it. If this is the last time he’s going to be able to see him for God knows how long, he’s going to savor every touch for as long as he can. He leans forward and Alex pushes back. It sends a bolt of white hot pain through Michael’s chest but he pushes it aside. He can give Alex this one thing.

“In sickness and in health,” he says. Alex’s eyes widen. Michael presses a kiss to the back of his knuckles, “come see me the next time you’re in Roswell,” he says.

He means to come back but Alex’s infection gets bad and they fly him out that night.

He comes back with even less of a leg.

Alex drops gratefully into the chair and Michael follows.

There is only so much dancing they can do, even at their wedding reception. And Michael doesn’t have any interest in dancing with someone else. It’s still unbelievable to him that Alex has no issue with putting his leg in his lap. But it sends a shiver of pleasure though him that he can be claimed in public like this. Alex turns and grins. Michael follows his eyes to a woman he vaguely recognizes. She comes over at Alex’s motioning.

“Shiri,” she says before he can stick his husband’s foot in his mouth, “I was—“

“Alex’s physical therapist,” he remembers. She beams, “good work,” he says, tapping Alex’s leg, “he dances great.”

“Well I figured he would,” she says. She looks at Alex who shrugs, “we tell people to focus on something they want to do and visualize it when they’re in rehab. Alex said it was going back to his unit and fighting when you came by,” she explains, “afterwards it changed though.”

“I said dancing with my husband.”

“And suddenly rehab went a lot smoother.”

Something warm blossoms in Michael’s chest. They have danced together. To something slow and sweet each doing their best to whisper things that would make the other laugh. Isobel had not been amused but Michael’s sure there’s no one in the world he’d rather have whispering dirty jokes in his ear. After Shiri goes, Michael still feels that happy warm feeling. But he’s not sure that’ll ever go away.

“I guess we’re gonna need a new goal,” Michael says, “for you to make your way towards.”

“What goal would that be?” Alex asks, scooting closer.

“How do you feel about running after kids?”

[magioftheseas]

Day 1 - Reserve

Written for @the-hinata-project 

Prompt: Reserve Course Student Hinata

Rating: G

Warnings: Lowkey manipulation and insecurity, but other than that, not much.

Notes: Alright, so I’m still in the middle of these, but like... Here’s the first one! They’re all going to be pretty short, around 2K but I’m gonna do my best to finish all of them so wish me luck...! And this first fic is gen. No ships. Next ones won’t be so gen. It’s also pre-HPA. Kind of.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

The last wish he made on New Year’s was a simple one.

I want to get into Hope’s Peak.

But of course that  would never happen.

“Can’t you dream more realistically, Hajime? Do you have any idea how expensive Hope’s Peak actually is? We can’t afford that.”

“I... I know that, but...”

“If you know then why are you burdening us with this? Please. Just think about other people besides yourself for once.”

“...sorry.”

His mother sighs, but ruffles his hair in a show of affection.

“You current high school isn’t so bad, right? You can make good friends here, and it’s a fine school.”

“I guess it’s...decent,” he mumbles.

“Just don’t even worry about Hope’s Peak anymore,” she tells him. “It’s impossible, and it can’t be helped. Keep your chin up. Okay?”

“...fine...”

Because he knew, after all, that she had a point. They couldn’t afford it. And he wasn’t talented. It was a pipe dream to attend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Still...

--

For his birthday, he was given a new laptop to replace the old. It was a fairly recent model. Pretty expensive. Likely compensation. He can’t say he didn’t like it.

He wasn’t ungrateful. He doesn’t think so.

It’s just that I admire Hope’s Peak more than anything.

So much so that he finds himself on the forums first thing.

>Does anyone have any idea who’s going to be in the upcoming batch?

>They haven’t finished scouting, right? Oh, but I just saw on the news that an actual princess was accepted! Hope’s Peak really can get in anyone!

>Wow, actual royalty?!

>There’s this photographer I follow. She’s getting in, too, I’m pretty sure.

>I just saw Saionji Hiyoko-san’s performance last week. I’m positive she’s getting in.

>I’m more interested in the princess. Can you imagine how lucky it would be to meet an actual princess?

>>They’ll be running the lottery in a month or so. What I would give to have more of a chance...

>Wow, they’re doing that again?

>With how much getting into the reserve course costs, you probably have a better chance with the lottery...

>But if you win the lottery, you’re actually considered talented. Reserves are just...y’know, reserves.

>But you’ll get to meet the princess, potentially. I think the money’s worth it, even if all I can do is steal a glance!

>Still... Seems so lame that you can just pay your way in...

>But brand name recognition is pretty powerful...

>>I heard you can actually get into the main course from the reserve course if you do well enough.

>No way! That’s a pipe dream! Maybe if you paid like, twice as much!

>Must be nice to be rich, huh...

Hinata stares, wondering what to type, but also letting the thoughts swirl around in his head.

>>I would do anything to get into Hope’s Peak. But my family just can’t afford that.

>Yeah, mine neither. Who actually can?

>You’d be surprised... They’re getting a lot of enrollments.

>You can’t like...get a scholarship or anything? It’s not like you need to go to college after attending Hope’s Peak.

>Well the golden gates can’t open that wide, I suppose...

>It’s for the best. If just about anyone could get in, it wouldn’t be that special.

Hinata bites his lip, picking at the peeling skin with his teeth.

>>Still. I want to get in more than anything.

>If you aren’t talented, it can’t be helped.

>>I would give anything.

>Pffft. No kidding. I’d give an arm and a leg, probably.

>>I would give anything.

>A lot of people would.

>You’re like a super fan, huh. Well, I am, too, but still...

>>Getting into Hope’s Peak has always been my dream.

>Everyone wants to be special, man.

>But if everyone was special then no one would be special.

>It can’t be helped. You’re either born talented or you aren’t.

>Right?! I must have spent hours drawing but there was always that one person I could just never compare to. It’s hopeless!

>You shouldn’t say hopeless on the Hope’s Peak forums!

>Haha, sorry!

>>I’ve never been talented. There’s not one thing I’m particularly good at.

>Normie...

>>But I want to get into Hope’s Peak Academy... More than anything.

>Give it up. For your own good. Wishing for the impossible isn’t healthy.

>Hey, don’t tell him that! What if he ends up winning the lottery?

>Yeah, right!

>>I’m not particularly lucky, either.

>Luck’s not a talent anyway.

>Are you sure? I’ve known people who get ridiculously lucky while gambling...

>If they gamble too much, that luck’s bound to run out. And I bet they’re not that lucky, they just brag a lot.

>That might be true... Still it would be nice just to get into Hope’s Peak by chance...

>Whoever wins that lottery probably is ridiculously lucky considering how many people are participating. We’re talking like, every high school student in their first year in the country.

>Sucks to be other countries, huh.

>Maybe someday but for now, I like not having that much competition.

>Still a ridiculous amount competing...

>I bet it’ll be someone who can afford the reserve course if they haven’t already enrolled.

>No fair! That kind of thing should disqualify you immediately!

>>I just...want to get in...

>Yeah we all do. But it’s impossible.

>Impossible.

>Totally impossible.

>Pigs will fly first.

>I heard some Ultimates actually can make some crazy shit. We might see flying pigs pretty soon.

>That’s terrifying.

>>I just want to get in.

>You should get offline.

He should. He really, really should.

Is it really impossible?

“Of course it is,” he can practically hear them murmur. “Not only are you untalented, you can’t afford it! And you’re going to win the lottery, either!”

Hinata buries his face into his hands, shuddering.

I just... I just...

--

To his surprise, he later receives a DM. Shivering, he clicks it open.

>Would you really do anything for Hope’s Peak?

He doesn’t recognize the name of the sender but...it looks official.

>>Yes. Of course. Why?

>There actually is a program you can sign up for that will get you in without having to pay a coin.

Hinata blinked once. Twice.

It’s way too good to be true.

But he’s desperate. Beyond desperate.

>>What is this program? How can I sign up?

>Here’s the information.

--

What he’s about to do is how people get themselves abducted, he’s pretty sure. But right now, he’s desperate and... If it really was someone associated with Hope’s Peak, how bad can it be? What’s the worse than can happen?

I already have no chance getting in. I know that... But...

His heart was pounding as he took the train. He stared out the window, at HPA’s towering buildings in the distance, getting closer and closer, and he sucks in his breath.

It’s so shining that it hurts to look at.

Shining like a dream...

--

“Ah, Hinata-kun, you made it after all. So you have the necessary information?”

“Uh... Yes...” Truth be told, he didn’t understand most of it. There were a lot of words that were hard to read and pretty...advanced. “I just...well you said you couldn’t explain everything in just files, so...”

The other looked pretty professional. Sharply dressed and smiling in a way that at least seemed pretty welcoming. But...still pretty intimidating, considering the circumstances. Hinata ducked his head, feeling rather flustered.

“Yes, it’s meant to be kept very tightly under wraps, you see,” they laugh. “I need to assure confidentiality before explaining, Hinata-kun. Surely you understand.”

That’s...weird.

But it made his blood thrum with excitement to be a part of.

“I... Y-Yes, of course. Absolutely... Of course...”

“Sign this form, then, promising that.”

“O-Of course...!”

He scribbles down his signature without a second thought. The other smiled more, pleased. Hinata squirmed in his seat, and tried to keep his posture straight.

With that, the other sat across from him, polite and yet...expectant.

Ah... Hah...

“So you’re willing to do anything for this school,” they say, voice almost light but also dense with significance. “Might I ask why?”

“It’s...as I said on the forums,” Hinata mumbles, fiddling with his tie. Even dressed professionally for this would-be interview, he feels underdressed. “I’ve always admired this school. Always. It’s always been my dream to...to go there...”

The other nods, expression unchanged.

“And why do you wish so badly to go there, despite not having a talent that can be cultivated?”

Hinata flinched.

“T-That’s...! I...” He hesitates, but he soon finds the words just spilling out. “I just want to be someone I can be proud of. Someone who can stand tall. Be confident. Be significant. Isn’t that what I deserve?”

“Isn’t that what everyone deserves?”

Hinata’s nails dig into his palms.

“I admire Hope’s Peak...more than anyone. I will give whatever I can...and then more than that...if I have to.” His teeth grit. “Whatever it takes... W-Whatever it takes...!”

Even though I know it’s selfish and impossible, I just...!

He just wanted to be someone. Someone other than...this.

Unimportant. Unremarkable. A faceless, meaningless part of the mass. The idea of being consumed by mediocrity and insignificance for the rest of his life, never to matter, never to even be remembered, just to disappear, just like he never even existed—

“I’ll do...w-whatever...it takes...” He’s shaking, eyes wide and crazed. “Whatever it takes... Whatever I can...and then more than that...if I have to.”

“Ah. I see.” An easy smile. And yet, the atmosphere felt so heavy that it was near suffocating. “Very well then, Hinata-kun. That’s exactly the kind of attitude we’re looking for.”

Hinata lit up.

“R-Really?” He dares to let hope slip into his tone. “D-Do you really mean it?”

A nod.

“Hinata-kun... If you could be reborn from the faceless body of a miserable nobody into the world’s hope... Would you?”

“That...sounds too good to be true...” His heart really was racing, but he was flushed with excitement. “But... Y-Yeah... I... Of course...”

“Then, allow me to tell you about how that can be possible. If you agree, you’ll be accepted into the school, free of charge, no talent necessary. In fact, it’s even essential that you be talentless.”

I...don’t understand.

He doesn’t understand but it just sounds so incredible that he can’t help but be swayed.

“...tell me.”

“Very well.”

A folder of files is placed before him. They look too important to grasp. And the stamped out letters of CONFIDENTIAL stare back into his wide-eyed, shimmering gaze.

Fingers trembling, Hinata actually slices his finger open as he flips it open.

He doesn’t even feel the sting, as engrossed as he is in the text.

“I...”

The words swirl around in his head, over and over until he drowns in them.

“Do you need time to think about it?” the other asks him kindly. So kindly that Hinata is struck cold. “Tell you what... You can still get into the reserve course. You don’t have to say yes right away, and the deadline will be in a few months from now. You can attend classes here until then...and then make your decision on whether or not you’re willing to stay. Okay?”

“I... O-Okay.” Hinata swallows. “That’s... I’m okay with that.”

I said I’d do anything. And I do...want to do anything. But...

His hands are shaking while still gripping the files.

I can’t...let this chance slip by...even if it’s something like this. This is everything I ever wanted. Why am I even hesitating?

“It’s alright,” the other says reassuringly, taking the files away with ease. “Hinata-kun, I know you’ll make the best decision for yourself.”

For...myself. Myself...

“I...yes.”

“I’ll have them send in your acceptance letter and uniform.” His hand is shook, the grip warm and calloused. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Hinata-kun.”

“A-A pleasure... Yeah.”

Just like that, Hinata was stumbling out of Hope’s Peak, trembling and falling to pieces with every shaky step.

I have to do it, he can’t help but think. I have to do it, for...for myself...

This was going to be the year his life changed irreparably. He was sure of it.

[mandowh0re]

Trust

CH 3

Requested: No

Fandom: Avengers MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Female Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky while on a mission with Steve and Natasha to bring him back to the States and makes an unexpected connection with him.

Word Count: 2177

Warnings: Some swearing

Comments: I will be explaining past events as flashbacks for background as the story continues, this will be written in italics. Some details are purposely left out, but will come to light later in the story. Also, I paired Thor x Bruce in this fic because I honestly think they’re cute. Their pairing is lightly mentioned and not a large part of the story, but if that bothers you then please don’t continue to read this story. If things don’t make sense, you have an idea for the story, or a request of your own, please don’t hesitate to message me!

BIG shout out to @this-swede-loves-superheroes for being my amazing beta!

Happy reading!

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9

Everybody turned to look at the two super-soldiers standing in front of the elevator. Bucky was slightly behind Steve with his gaze on the floor.

Steve sighed, “Could you guys not freak him out by looking at him like he’s the new kid at school?”

“Why don’t you introduce us? Are you joining us for dinner?” Tony stood up and began walking towards the pair, spouting off questions per usual.

“Tony…” Steve warned.

He held his hands up in a defensive manner, “Hey, I just want to meet him. I’d like to know the guy staying in my compound.”

Steve’s jaw tightened but Bucky stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay Steve, I’m not going to spontaneously combust or anything.” He gave a half smile before turning to Tony, “James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

Tony looked at Bucky for a moment, as if trying to read him before extending his hand to meet Bucky’s already outstretched one, “Nice to meet you Bucky. I’m Tony Stark, in case that wasn’t evident. And it’s no problem. Plenty of room. Steve will give you the rundown of the place after dinner. I mean, that is if you want to join us. (Y/N) is making homemade lasagna and garlic bread,” He gestured to you, who was currently helping Wanda put the mixing dishes away while Peter was pulling out plates and silverware. You looked up and met Bucky’s eyes before Tony continued, “But you two have already met, so I suppose we should get you introduced to everyone else as well.”

Tony turned to the rest of the crowd in the room and began to list everyone off one by one, “The one with the blonde hair braiding the ginger’s hair is Clint. The ginger is Natasha, but you’ve also met her. The guy next to them with the book is Sam. The big guy in the corner seat is Thor, and the smaller guy sitting in front of him is Bruce. They’re kind of a thing. The guy sitting on the end of that couch there is James, but he goes by Rhodey which should make things less confusing for the both of you.

“The redish-purple-looking guy with the yellow jewel in his head is Vision. He and Wanda,” Tony turned back to the kitchen, “The crazy redhead are also a thing. And the child there-”

“Mr. Stark! I’m not a child!” Peter whined.

“Of course you’re not, spider-baby.” Tony called back, but Peter just crossed his arms and walked back to the living room, dropping on the couch next to Rhodey. Despite his resistance of Tony’s use of the word ‘child’, Peter was pouting and looking very much like one, “That’s Peter.” He raised his voice slightly, “Everyone, this is Bucky. Play nice, or Spangles here will have your ass, and I’m not gonna step in to save you.” He waved a hand in the air and walked back to his previous spot in the room.

Wanda followed Peter back into the living room, claiming her place beside Vision. You looked at Bucky and saw that he was nervous, probably overwhelmed with all of the introductions. So you decided to try and distract him.

Waiting until everyone was back into their normal conversations, you walked up to Bucky, placing a hand on his right forearm, “Bucky?”

He whipped around to you, obviously startled, but relaxed the moment he saw you, “Oh, hey.”

“Would you like to help me set up dinner? I could use some help.” You squeezed his arm just slightly in an attempt to encourage him, along with flashing him a warm smile.

Something in him seemed to crack, and he immediately relaxed, the tension he had been carrying since he walked into the room vanishing. “Uh, yeah. Sure.” His lips curled into a small smile and your heart fluttered in your chest. You had decided months ago, back in Wakanda when you had dropped him off for deprogramming, that you would make it your life’s purpose to make him smile whenever possible.

“Have you seen my teammate (Y/N)? Pretty short, long (Y/H/C) hair, (Y/E/C) eyes, probably walking around in jean shorts and an oversized purple sweatshirt?” Steve asked one of the Wakandan guards stationed in the palace. She shook her head, so Steve kept walking. He and Natasha had already checked your room, the kitchen, the common lounge, and he knew you weren’t in the lab because he had just come from there.

“Hey, T’Challa found her. She’s in the garden with one of the guards.” Natasha’s voice came through the comm in his ear.

“Thanks, can you go get her? I need to get back to Buck. He’s really on edge.”

“On it.”

You were walking in one of the most beautiful flower gardens you had ever seen in your life. There were colors and scents everywhere that were overloading your senses and it was wonderful. Every flower you could imagine was there and in full bloom. You wanted to dance around in the garden, but that would make you look silly, since there was a guard accompanying you.

Of course you had seen this place in passing the last time you were in Wakanda. But you were only here so that you and the team could learn as much as possible about your mutation and capabilities.

You found a patch of fully bloomed yellow Gerbera daisies, one of your favorites, and on a whim asked your company, “Could I pick one?”

She smiled for the first time since you had spoken to her; when asked her if you could visit the garden and she insisted on accompanying you.

“I thought you would never ask. Go ahead.”

You nearly squealed in excitement, and picked one of the Gerberas, and put it in your journal for safe keeping.

“(Y/N)!” You jumped at Natasha’s voice, not expecting her to find you out here. Since you were kneeling down and already unstable, the small jump you did caused you to fall flat on your back.

Huffing, you answered, “Yes?”

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, why didn’t you tell us you were going somewhere?”

You pulled yourself up to a sitting position, but kept your eyes locked on the ground, “I… I did not think it to be a problem. Steve has been with James this whole time and you with Okoye.”

You saw her figure move down towards you and felt her hand grab your shoulder, “(Y/N), we aren’t mad. You’re fine to come look around. We just wanted you to come to the lab. Bucky wanted to see you before going into cryo.”

You felt butterflies suddenly take up occupancy in your stomach as you looked up at your friend, “Really?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Yes, now come on.”

When you made it to Shuri’s lab you had to take a calming breath before walking in. But that breath did nothing to prepare you for what you saw when you walked inside.

There, sitting on top of a metal examination table, was Bucky Barnes with no shirt, sweatpants, and hair loose around his face. You could have sworn your heart stopped in that moment.

What was that feeling in your stomach?

Wait.

What was that feeling??

Before you could continue your inner thoughts about what the hell your body was doing at the sight of a shirtless Bucky, he suddenly caught sight of you and met your eyes.

That was it.

This man was going to kill you by cardiac arrest.

You felt a nudge, and turned to see that it was Natasha pushing you, silently telling you to stop acting so weird.

So you walked towards Bucky and smiled, “Hello James.”

“Um, hi.”

“Are they sending you into cryo soon?”

“In about an hour.” He raised his right arm, motioning to the IV he was connected to. It was at that point you noticed his left arm was gone.

Must have been too distracted by everything else.

You nodded back, then gestured towards the open spot next to him on the table, “May I sit?”

He seemed slightly taken aback by the question, but agreed nonetheless.

“How long will you be here?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Shuri said six months at the least.”

“How much of that time will you be in cryo?”

“I’m not sure, she said it depended on how well I was responding to the deprogramming.” You nodded, but before you could say anything else Bucky spoke up again, “You ask a lot of questions.”

Your heart suddenly dropped, “I am sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I mean…” You were beginning to flounder and made a move to get off of the table when you felt a form grip around your wrist, and looked up to see a confused Bucky.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Sorry, I should have chosen my words more carefully. I meant that I like that you ask questions. You don’t act like you’re walking on eggshells around me, like I’ll break with the wrong word.” You raised an eyebrow at him and he scratched his head, “Okay, not my best analogy. But, back in Bucharest, you walked right up to me even while I was still holding that gun, powers be damned.”

You giggled at the memory, “Yeah, Steve is going to ground me for that one.”

Bucky then raised an eyebrow, “Ground you?”

You laughed again, “Yes, I am the second youngest member of the team, though I am not an official Avenger yet. I am an adult, but because I am small and have a “baby face” they like to talk as if I am a child.”

Bucky huffs out a short laugh next to you. “Steve’s a punk. And a hypocrite. I seem to remember he was a lot worse of than you at an older age before he became Captain America.” He felt his stomach become feather-light at the genuine laugh that you made, “How old are you anyways?”

“Twenty-two,” you answer proudly. “I can legally drink, so I am not a child.”

“Of course not, doll.”

“Okay you two, kiss goodbye or whatever, I need to finish prepping Bucky.” Shuri called from where she was standing with Natasha. T’Challa, who had been talking with Steve, facepalmed.

“Shuri…” T’Challa warned.

“Everyone was thinking it, I just said it!” Shuri defended, never once looking from the holo-screen in front of her.

By now you could feel the heat in your face and you were desperately hoping Bucky couldn’t see.

You jumped off the table and turned to Bucky to say goodbye, despite the fact that you were sure your face was the color of a tomato. But you noticed he was completely drained of color, “Hey,” stepping forward, you folded your hand over his. “Is everything alright?”

He looked down at you and you could see the terror in his eyes, and that his chest was rising and falling too quickly.

You felt the air get knocked out of your chest and you had the abrupt realization that the last time he went into cryo was with HYDRA.

“Hey,” you gently squeezed his hand in an attempt to pull him back to reality. “You are safe here. Nobody will hurt you. We trust these people. I trust these people. They helped me when I first came to the team. You trust me, do you not?”

You could see his eyes begin to refocus back on you, the distant look leaving his gaze. He nodded.

“You trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” You opened your journal and pulled out the Gerbera you picked earlier. It was flattened, but still beautiful. “This is one of my favorite flowers. It reminds me of the sun. And everyone needs a little sun in their lives.” You placed the flower in his hand, and placing your hand on top of it whispered, “I trust that you will bring this back to me James.”

There was a beat, and then suddenly the biggest and brightest smile you had ever seen lit up the man’s face. And you decided it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He nodded at you, and you nodded back. Clutching your journal you turned and began to walk away when he spoke again, “Bucky.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, head tilted. “I am sorry?”

“Bucky. Please, call me Bucky.”

You felt confused, because you liked the name James. It was a pretty name and a formal name. But he still had that dazzling smile on his face and you couldn’t say no to him.

You wondered if you would ever be able to say no to him.

So you simply said, “Bucky.” and walked off.

And that night when all you could dream about was Bucky’s smile, you made it your life’s purpose to make that man smile whenever possible.

-------

Tag list: @cutiepiemimi13 @serenity-schuyler @animegirlgeeky

[ladylynse]

Paulina no!!! StaR!!!! Gosh I am so so so!! Exited to learn more about what happened/ happens to these two ahhh!! We got another piece of the puzzle now and I'm SO HYPE MY GUY; this part was written so well!! (Also sorry about the having to write it twice that sucks oof) Anyway this part was SUPER GOOD AS AWLAYS AND thannkkk youuuu for posting it always makes my night when you post :) I hope you have an amazing day!!

(referring to this fic)

Ahahaha thank you! You have no idea how delightful it is to see a reaction like this. You’ve officially made my night. 

Not gonna lie, redoing all my edits wasn’t fun, but like I said, I’d written the first part on a note on my phone, so that was still there, and I could start from that again. It was infinitely better than starting from scratch. I also started another phone note scene today, so.... That might be next. (Read: Probably will be next because it’s currently longer than the post-wash Sam scene I’ve started on my computer.) Still different than this, still another piece of the world, a different part of the overall timeline. There’s so much there. I feel like I have more freedom with this than I do when I try other people’s AUs because I don’t know them nearly as well. Or maybe that freedom just comes from writing AUs since most of the time I stick closer to canon (well, canon divergence). 

...If I do much more on this, I might start its own post and link that post on my fic masterpost, solely so I can give a tiny, one-line summary of each piece so people have a better idea when reading it. I think it might help, given how scattered everything is.

[franeridart]

Hi! Idk if you read fanfic, but would you happen to have any kiribaku fic recs? Or any bnha fic rec?

I’m pretty sure there’s stuff tagged as fic recs on this blog, yes! Nothing particularly new tho, I haven’t had the time to put down a new rec-list in a while ;-;

Anon said:How long does it take you to finish a drawing with and without color?

That honestly depends on a lot of factors - which tools I’m using, how many characters there are in the drawing/if it’s full body or not, how used to drawing the character I am, how big is the canvas, if I already have a clear idea of what I mean to draw or not, how precise I want to be with lines and stuff. 

That Yuuto sketch I posted yesterday took me about 40 minutes I think, and over half of it was spent trying to figure out how I was supposed to draw him since it was the first time I drew him - the tools I used are the ones I use when I want to be fast and don’t care about being sloppy. A small random Kirishima bust properly lined and colored could take me five minutes to sketch and line and as many to color on a good day, cause I’ve drawn him so many times by now I don’t even have to think to draw him. Deku, on the other hand, can take me an hour even just to sketch, I can’t seem to grasp how I’m supposed to draw him at all.

Sorry, it really depends on a lot of things, I can’t give a proper answer to this :(

Anon said:Ive been tryin to find ur art of sero carrying baku for like 20 minutes n i cant find it :(

Are you talking about this one? Or this one? There’s also this one I guess...? And maybe this one lol 

Anon said:yoooo, hey man, that cat kiribaku thing ya got going on is some 👌👌👌👌👌

HECK THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Has anyone ever considered Hadmie. Hadou x Camie before?? It just seems like it'd be a cute ship to sail with, tbh. That just might be me tho.

I dunno if anyone has before you, but I can’t say I have, sorry! If I gotta ship Nejire with someone after all it’s gonna be Yuyu haha

Anon said:Hey do you do commissions? I really love your art and I'd love to get a commission from you!! (and also I just wanna know if there's yet another thing that I have to save up for XD)

Not right now, sorry! Maybe after I’m done with the zine things!!

Anon said:*runs around like an excited puppy* DAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVE!!!!!!! :D

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Anon said:AHHH i love your ocs so much also Nico looks so cute and i love learning new things about them

AAAHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY G O D!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:KIRI + PINEAPPLE PONYTAIL = THE BEST THING EVER

I’M GLAD WE AGREE ON THAT

Anon said:your oc's literally kill me!! i already love nico, and i think i speak for everyone when i say that we definitely want more of him and luca!! i don't know if it's just me, but I love when the angry, swearing types fall for someone.

SOB thank you so so much for the kind words about my kids ;^;

Anon said:OH MY GOD LUCA IS BACK!!!! YESSSSSSSS FUCKING KILL ME THIS IS A BLESSED DAY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. MORE OF YOUR OC'S!!! (only when you want to share of course, I'm just trying to convey my enthusiasm here. not demanding at all ^^)

I think that might happen soon enough, actually!!!! Thank you so much for the interest in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Are josh and chris still not dating?

Sadly until I’ll sit down to write their story that specific part of it won’t go anywhere :( Chris gotta deal with a bunch of things before he’ll be ready to put a name to what’s between him and Josh 3 one day I’ll let him work through it !!!

Anon said:I'm so paranoid I'm going to repost one of your post by accident but the thing is is I never even repost anything at all but just because I know you don't want them to be I'm so scared that by accident I'm going to have something screenshotted and forget it's yours and like Ugh😂

Well, my name’s written on all my drawing so I doubt you’ll forget it’s my stuff lol to make sure you’re not reposting anything the author doesn’t want reposted you can always just ask before reposting it, tho~

Anon said:I was just scrolling through your OC stuff and I just. Love them so much. Thank you for the babies ❤

GOD THANK YOU ;O;

Anon said:Okay I've never seen your oc's before and Dave is the cutest green boy I love him

AAAAHHHHHH I’M GLAD!!!!!

Anon said:kamijirou getting together? :3 also if there were ever a scenario where jirou would confess first, what do you think she would be thinking?

I actually have half a thing planned for that :0 gimme a while to get around to drawing it!

Anon said:How do you feel imagine kiri’s parents???

Actually since I’m still hoping one day Hori will give us the official versions I try not to think too much about it! I don’t wanna grow attached just to have to give them up once I’ll have the canon versions haha

Anon said:hey quick innocent question ive been following for a long time and saw a lot of your art do you have a thing for feet

Are you asking because I draw a lot of people barefoot? Feet are just easier and faster to draw than shoes, anon

Anon said:I love how you answer asks all at once. It’s nice to see that you’re getting in bulk appreciation

THANKS I honestly just don’t want my blog to be more asks than art, so I let them pile up before answering - it does mean I make people wait a lot for answers tho orz sorry

Anon said:I LOVE YOUR ART

THANK YOU!!!!

Anon said:You've open a sea of possibilities with red pineapple kirishima. You're a legend :prayeremoji:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wouldn’t call myself that but I’m glad you appreciate him too hahaha

Anon said:i cant help but notice nothings been added to your sero tag in 4 months

That might be because I rarely use single characters tags! Try looking under #bakusquad and #seromina :D

Anon said:Hahaaa hi this is probably really really awkward but I just wanted you to let you know that you're super awesome!! And the fact that your art is something that I can look forward to is absolutely amazing (no pressure tho)!!! So yea, thank you for being cool and creating beautiful art~~ :D ✧✧✧

SOB it’s not awkward at all!!!! thank you SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Would you mind adding some more Tokoyami art to your shop? More specifically the pieces where hes hanging out with Kiri, and the Tokoshoji piece :D Im desperate to bury my notebooks in stickers from your shop rn and the bird boy needs more love ❤

AHW I’m sorry anon, but those are definitely too small to be of any use on the shop ;-; if you’re okay with it I could add the last one I posted? I should seriously draw more of him..................

Anon said:That jacket that Kirishima has on...I NEED!

I drew it and that’s still a mood t b h

Anon said:I went so far back in your blog that it kicked me back to the beginning ;-; I was just getting to the D. Greyman stuff too

AW ;-; (..........it’s good tho, the further you go the least worth it my stuff is l m a o)

Anon said:Do you ever draw kiribaku or something else in paper or some kind of sketch book if you do i would love to see them❤(sorry if my english is bad)

I do have some doodles on paper posted on here somewhere? But tbh I rarely draw traditionally anymore unless it’s just random doodles :(

Anon said:Aahhh!!! I really love your kiribaku shit its so cute!!and you draw so goood too literally when i found this ship i instantly found you and you are so perfect in my eyes and your art!!!!! I looooooovvvvvvveeeeee yoooouuuuuu thank you for being here and showing us this stuff!!❤❤❤❤

HECK thank you!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:i adore your art so much and your bakushima comics make me smile a lot! :) you’re one of my favorite artists now dldksjshskdk

tHANK YOU OH MY G OD ;^;

Anon said:Consider this: fantasy Kirishima meeting normal bakugou, thinking that's his Katsuki 😂😂

.........................you literally got no clue how long I’ve been thinkin about drawing this............ he ck

Anon said:Your drawings give me life 😍❤️

sob thank you so so so much ;-;

[noragottem]

Promise Baby, You'll Love Me Forevermore

So uh hi. ive never written a naruto fic before this really so i guess this is a good start. 

word count: 1961

Rating: T i guess 

inspired by this fic right here and my contribution to kiba week. give jaz some love this fic is amazing. also be nice to me maybe idk okay here goes

@princejellychu @ino-buta @for2buns

It’s a fine, nearly spring day when Kiba first lays his eyes on what has to be the finest boy he’s ever seen. 

The dogs are running low on food and Kiba’s been sent to fix that. It’s a good long walk usually canceled out by a car he’s no longer allowed to use. At least til his momma forgives him. He spots Naruto’s bright yellow hair as he enters the store and resists the urge to tackle him. Naruto’s not alone and Kiba has some kinda home training. “Que pasa pendejo?!” He yells across 3 aisles. Home training never included an inside voice. The group turns around and Kiba recognizes the redhead; Gaara, knows how to party, always brings coke but exclusively for Naruto. The tall blonde with the large space puffs that are out of this world he doesn’t recognize but she fits the description of the girl Shika’s so hung up about. Kiba thinks he understand, her legs do go on forever. He doesn’t focus on her for long because last boy, dressed in all black from his beanie, to his fingerless gloves, to his combat boots has his attention in a vice grip. If the outfit wasn’t enough the boy has on dark purple lipstick he’s matched to his eyeshadow. Kiba dubs him “sexy goth” and needs his name immediately. The sudden wave of dehydration makes him trip over his own feet. He doesn’t fall, thank god, his reflexes are usually on point. He smoothly gathers himself making his way over to Naruto. “Gonna scare all the customers with that racket, dog breath.” Naruto says with a smile slinging his arm around Kiba’s neck in a not so gentle hug. “I’m sure Lee wouldn’t mind.” Kiba replies when Naruto releases him. “Who do we have here?” “Well you know Gaara. This his brother and sister.” Naru says pointing to each respectively. “Temari,” the blonde says waving with the bag of chips in her hand. “Kankuro.” Sexy goth says, and offers his hand to Kiba. Kiba takes it with a lopsided grin. “Kiba. My mom owns the kennel, good friend of Naruto’s. Single.” Kankuro raises his brows, impressed. If Kiba takes too long to let go of his hand he doesn’t say. “You didn’t tell me your Suna friends were fine as hell.” Kiba says to Naruto in Spanish. “You never asked.” Naruto says. — Later when everyone gathers at the Namikaze house his friends shake their heads at him. “You ever met a bitch named shame?” Shika asks. He’s propped up against Naruto’s bed nursing a can of beer. “We’re not on speaking terms right now.” Kiba shrugs from the beanbag in the corner. “I cannot believe that worked.” Chouji says. “What can I say? I am a gentleman.” “If you’re a gentleman I’m fucking lawyer.” Naruto says from the edge of his bed. They all crack up and Ms. Kushina yells that they better laughing over that homework. — The next time he sees Kankuro it’s two days later and he’s working his shift at the kennel. He’s mostly waiting for lunch time. The dogs are clean and in their cages waiting to be adopted. Hana’s in the back serving them lunch when Kankuro stomps in donned in another all black outfit. Same boots, same fingerless gloves, but a black hoodie and baggy black jeans. Kiba notes he painted his nails the same purple as his eyeshadow and lipstick. Favorite color. Noted. “Welcome to Inuzuka Kennel,” he drawls and gives that same lopsided grin. “What can we do you for? A dog? A friend? Both?” He’s never been one for subtlety. Kankuro pretends to consider this. “I guess bit of both.” Kankuro matches Kiba’s grin and leans over the counter. Well then. The tension is strong and pulled taught. “I’m heading out for lunch Kiba you want anything?” Hana yells on her way out. Kiba doesn’t break eye contact with Kankuro and answers, “two pork shoulder sandwiches from Akimichis.”  He hears his sister confirm and the door shuts. “Why don’t you step back here and we can see about that?” — Hana comes back in exactly half an hour, ever punctual. Kiba is has his chair tipped back and his feet in the desk which his mom hates and Kankuro sitting on the desk which Hana frowns at. She hands Kiba the bag with the food and he hands Kankuro the other sandwich. “Aight, get back to work before Mom makes you scrub this whole place down.” Hana says. Kankuro takes that as his cue to go. “I think I might come back another time.” “Oh did you see one you liked?” Hana asks. Both boys smile. “Sure did.” — “I hope ya momma busts ya ass for fucking on the clock.” Chouji says throwing a couch cushion at him. “Speaking from experience?” Kiba says catching it easily and sticking his tongue out. He doesn’t tell them Hana slapped him upside the head twice but was merciful enough not to tell his momma. — “You sure you not moving too fast?” Naruto asks one afternoon in detention. Its almost summer. Almost vacation. He wears his mesh shirt to school because it’s just that hot and thinks the detention is worth it. Iruka sensei lets them do whatever for the hour as long as they don’t make too much noise or leave the room. Shika’s there for snoring in trig, Ino for skipping gym, Naruto got into another fight, and Sakura, apparently cussed out the history teacher. “Maybe,” Kiba says. They’ve only been on two dates at this point and yes Kiba is counting that time at work. He hogs the phone every other day just to talk to Kankuro. He never thought of himself as someone who could manage a long distance relationship but here he is. Except- “We’re technically not exclusive yet.” He confesses. Ino practically shouts, “Why the fuck not?” Iruka looks up from his newspaper and gives her a look that says, “Really?” Kiba shrugs and that only makes her more mad. “What’s the hold up? You like him, he likes you, you both are only seeing each other so what’s the problem?” She says waving her perfectly manicured nails around. (The elephant in the room blares but neither her or Sakura hear it) “There ain’t no problem. It’s just never come up.” Kiba doesn’t usually feel insecure but right now he’s uneasy. It’s too soon to say he’s in love, but he’s never had a relationship like this. “You should probably get on that quick then,” Sakura says. “It’s different when you can’t see them everyday.” Kiba doesn’t like the implication at all. His stomach sinks a bit and Iruka sensei dismisses them for the day. — Kiba doesn’t really ask for much for his birthday. He appreciates a good party even when it’s a few days late and loves being surrounded by friends and family. Even when certain friends abandon him for their new boytoys. Fucking typical. “Are you pouting, birthday boy?” Kiba looks up to see Kankuro and to say his face lights up is an understatement. “You came!” He all but tackles him and almost knocks the both them into Shinos table. Kiba can’t see his glare behind his shades but knows it’s there. He doesn’t care. “You’re surprised? Why wouldn’t I?” “Well,” Kiba starts. God since when does he get nervous? “We never really talked about being official or anything-“ “We haven’t? I’ve been telling everyone my boyfriend lives in Konoha.” At this Kiba laughs wholeheartedly. “That answers that.” “Sorry for not being explicitly clear, Scotty.” He presses himself impossibly closer and kisses him longer than ever necessary. “I also came bearing gifts.” “You mean you weren’t my present?” “Well yeah. Consider it my apology for not being able to stay.” Kankuro hands Kiba a tiny bag and smiles. “Only the best for the birthday boy.” “Holy shit I love you.” —

In a month or so momma Inuzuka will let Kiba take his permit test and Kiba will be allowed to borrow the car again. The first thing he plans to do is book it to Suna and spend a week in Kankuro’s bed. It’s just not fair he doesn’t get to go to Suna when Kankuro gets the privilege of travel from being a mayor’s son. Speaking of mayors sons-

“Ya boys are here to spring you.” His mom says as he’s finishing up a mornings worth of dog grooming. Naruto has the bright idea to take Shika to Suna to get him laid. Kiba doubts it will happen but now he owes Naruto big time and wonders if he should ask if he can read minds.

Kankuro’s tracing the scars on Kiba’s arms. They don’t hurt anymore but it’s still an ugly reminder. Kiba had called it “a present from Konoha’s finest,” always defaulting to jokes to keep the mood light.

Kankuro had given Kiba a brief tour of his room; from the various posters of metal and punk bands hung haphazardly to the small woodworking projects he’s accumulated over the years.

(This tour obviously ends with Kiba’s tongue down Kankuro’s throat. While Kiba enjoys hearing his boyfriend enthuse about his projects, that’s not really what his friends drove through a windstorm for)

“D’ya think Shika’s has any luck with Temari?” Kiba says comfortably snuggled up to Kankuro’s side.

“Nope. Which is sad because they’d probably be good together.”

“What’s the holdup?”

“It’s not him. It’s her and the fact that she’s currently into Hinata.”

“Shit, she is hard to compete with.”

“Just hope she doesn’t crush his heart into tiny pieces. That would make things awkward for us wouldn’t it?”

“Meh. Inconvenient more like.”

“Oh yeah I have something for you.” Kankuro suddenly remembers and Kiba pouts when he gets out of the bed.

“Why are you always the one getting me stuff.”

“I just like spoiling you.” He reaches into a drawer on his desk and Kiba hopes he’s not blushing too hard. “Plus, you did come all the way out here and it’s not like Suna weather is nice to you city folk.”

“Said the goth in the desert.”

“I’m committed to my art.” He holds up a chain with a single charm on it. Kankuro continues before Kiba can ask.

“My granny Chiyo gave this charm bracelet a long time ago. Don’t usually wear it because I’m afraid of losing it.”

“And this charm?” Kiba asks placing his hands under it.

“Is my favorite.” It’s a skull, painted a metallic purple with two black gem for eyes. “You gonna turn around so I can put it on you or just stare?”

Kiba’s never been one for jewelry but there’s no way he’s ever taking it off.

—

+

“So this is famous novio.” Tsume says as Kankuro steps out the car.

“Miss Inuzuka-“

“Please call me Tsume. I don’t know what my son has told you but I’m not that old. Is this for me?” She says pointing to the present in Kankuro’s hands.

“That it is. Kiba said you were also a fan of this brand. Thought you would appreciate it.”

“Oh boy you didn’t have to butter me up I already liked you.”

“It’s no problem Miss Tsume.”

“Come on in Hana just made dinner.”

Kankuro slips into the house and Tsume catches Kiba by the back of his collar. “You didn’t defile my car did you?” She asks him in Spanish.

“Who do you take me for?” Kiba asks, scandalized.

She hooks an arm around his neck and rubs her fist against his head. “I take your for my son.”

Kiba groans but he can’t argue. Lying to his momma is useless anyway. The inevitable punishment is worth it.

[silentauroriamthereal]

Okay, so this is extremely long, but my good friend @ravenmorganleigh tagged me in this a few days ago, and I would never refuse her. I’ll put most of it under a cut! This was very interesting to answer! 

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

Ooof, that’s a big ask! My very first fic was a Harry/Snape (yes, I know, groan away!) and the fact that I haven’t re-read it in well over a decade is suggestive that I never will, lol. I couldn’t even remember what it was called, so I just looked it up. It’s called Things Change (not linking it, sorry!!) and it was posted on skyehawke.com after fanfiction.net banned me in September of 2004. Lol. It’s still there, along with all of my other Harry Potter fic (of which there is over 1.4 million words).

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

I just posted Out of the Woods yesterday, which is an intentionally light-hearted story. My last serious one is the one I wrote just before it, The Clouded Eye, and I would say that between these and my earliest stuff, there is a significant gap in quality, yes. :P

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

That’s honestly impossible to say. It depends what you’re judging on. For intricacy of plot, clearly my novel, Against the Rest of the World. For sheer fixing for series 4, which is a herculean task to explain, fill in the gaps logically, and then actually make it palatable, I would give it to the fix-it that most clearly addresses the most issues with series 4 – the Holmes family history, Eurus’ existence in general, Sherlock’s memory problems, Mary’s wholly unbelievable and unsatisfactory death, the practical issues with the entire concept of John and Sherlock having a child at 221B, etc – and that fic is Hell Hath No Fury. It’s a bittersweet ending, and honestly the most realistic I can see after that disastrous series. For sheer levels of how much it explains and delves into, I’m very pleased with it. For depth and intricacy of emotion, my personal vote goes to The Wisteria Tree. For pure porn, it has to be Best of Three. For one of my overall personal favourites, Bridging the Ravine. 

4. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

Far and away it’s Best of Three, which is rapidly closing in on 100,000 hits, probably the only work of mine that will ever achieve this milestone.

Putting the rest under a cut! 

5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

I’m equally proud of all of my stories, for different reasons.

6. Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

Nah. I’m frankly proud of the silly ones and as to the early stuff, everyone has to start somewhere!

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

I have no unfinished stories at the moment. I just finished one, so I’m officially between projects. That will probably last for all of 2-3 days and then I’ll start something new.

8. What’s the oldest (longest since last update) fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

Not applicable; I always finish my stories.

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

No, and no offense, but I find that entire concept ridiculous and rather disrespectful to the source material. Even when I disagree with the canon, I have legions of respect for it.

10. Have you ever written for a fandom without reading other fanfic for it?

Yes, I have exactly one Star Wars fic (though I think I took it down for some reason, years ago) and one Lord of the Rings fic, and I still have never read any fic for those fandoms other than my own.

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?

Only once, at least knowingly: after writing three long series 4 fix-it fics (A Case For Domestic Propinquity, Hell Hath No Fury, and From the Bottom of the Well), I decided that I wanted to finally give in and write a well-known trope, and wrote a fake-couple-for-a-case fic (Bridging the Ravine), which is now up there as one of my favourite fics of my own collection. Happily, I have a personal policy that I don’t read other people’s stories while writing my own, as a deliberate attempt to keep myself free of influence. The downside is that I miss out on probably a lot of good fic. For this trope, I’d only ever read one or two stories that would fit that description and they were literal years ago, so I don’t remember any of their details and didn’t want to. I make a pretty strong effort to not just reproduce the same ideas that other people have already done, which is a tricky thing to do in a fandom that has a lot of similar ideas and desires for the final results (aka, Sherlock and John getting together). I really do try very hard, though! This particular story also contains way more original characters than any other I’ve ever written, many of whom have developed enough backstories to work as stand-alone characters in their own stories and I’m proud of that, too! There are 24 in total!

12. Have you ever written a fic and decided never to publish it? Why?

No. There are story ideas I’ve refused to let myself write, though. Or several that I’ve sat on for months in trying to refuse to write, like my first Freebatch fic. I have mixed feelings about Real Person Fic and tried very hard to suppress the urge to write The A.G.R.A. Complex, and managed to keep myself from doing it for nine months. But then I caved. For the few I’ve refused to write, either it’s been because the concept itself made me sad, or it centred around an unpopular sexual kink, or some other reason like that. But generally, if I want to write something, I’ll just write it, and if I write it, I’ll post it.

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

I wouldn’t say that there’s been a huge change. I wrote more chaptered stories in the beginning, but I’m very busy and the stress of updating regularly is too much for me right now. I found my stride in the long novella. I strongly prefer the single-chapter format, but if it’s over 40,000 words, I’ll make myself break it up into chapters. The last WIP I posted as I wrote it was Against the Rest of the World, which I wrote over four months in the fall of 2013, leading up to the release of series 3 – in fact, I finished it two days before TEH aired! I was updating on average every six days, and some of those chapters were over 10,000 words long. It was a strain to keep it up, honestly – it meant that I was writing around the clock, day and night. It was the first thing I would do in the morning and the last thing I would do at night. I would come home on breaks at work to write, or take my laptop with me. I lived and breathed that story for four months. It’s told in first person voice (Sherlock’s POV), too, so it meant that I had Sherlock’s voice in my head at all times for four months. I missed him when it was over.

14. What’s the biggest change in your taste between when you started in fandom and today?

I wouldn’t say that there’s been one. I’m always trying to go further and further into the characters, their feelings, their experiences, and relate them so that the reader can ideally not just watch the story unfolding, but feel everything that the POV character is feeling at the same time. One can always go deeper, and I will never stop trying. Obviously different stories call for a heavier or lighter touch that way, but you get the drift.

15. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?

No. I write the stories that come to me. I never write aiming for popularity. Though of course, I paradoxically always hope that my stories will be! But I never think, “Hmm, what would the fandom market really go for?” I just write the stories that I feel I need to tell.

16. Have you ever stopped writing a fic/for a fandom because it wasn’t receiving enough attention?

Never. I think that’s lame.

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

My most popular, Best of Three! Similar to Bridging the Ravine, I wrote this one after I’d written my initial big trio of series 3 fix-it fics (Deductions of a Lesser Mind, Act IV, and Vena Cava), and just needed to take a break and write something lighter. I wrote the entire thing in under 24 hours. I get why it’s popular – the combination of humour, sheer smut, nod to The Three Garridebs, and then the twist of romance at the end is a fairly unbeatable combination, but at the time I was indignant by its popularity, honestly! I’ve written many, many better, less popular stories. What can you do? Over time, I’ve stopped being exasperated and just rejoiced in Best of Three’s popularity.

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

Ha! That’s so subjective! I really can’t answer that. Instead, I’ll just list some stories of mine that I’ve been very proud of and sometimes wish people would read more: Hell Hath No Fury (again, very proud of this one for its sheer amount of fixing), A Satellite Out of Orbit (this is a companion story to Where My Demons Hide that features Sherlock’s visits to Ella, set just before and during TLD, but also extending to after the point where the original story stops – not compliant with TFP, as both stories were written before it aired, but I’m still proud of them both!), Munich (probably less read because it’s an established relationship, which tends to be less popular), The Legacy of Martha J. Hudson (this one is SUPER sad and I’m not surprised that people have shied away from it, but I still think it’s worth the read! Good for when you need a cry? Because, as the title heavily implies, Mrs Hudson dies in it), Pater Noster (a rather dark fix-it, wherein Mary’s first job was to kill John’s father – I was looking for a reason that Mary thought that John really wouldn’t love her anymore that was that much worse than her trying to kill Sherlock!), The Final Proof (this is even sadder than the Mrs Hudson story – it’s a retirement fic wherein Sherlock dies, then John dies at the end, too. Everyone who has read it has cried (seriously, like 98%) but also said that they found it really beautiful, so - ?). 

19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

Well, that’s easy! (Note: it’s not!) Possibly Vena Cava.

20. Have/Would you ever rewrite a fic? If yes, would you take the original down?

No, I wouldn’t rewrite a fic. What’s done is done. Although there are always the typos I missed the first time around. :P

21. If someone starts kudosing and commenting your fics in a spree and has a few works of their own, would you go look through theirs?

Only if I weren’t working on something of my own at the time, which almost never happens. What I really don’t like is when someone reads something of mine and then obligates me to then read something of theirs in turn. It makes me uncomfortable and I find it a bit rude. When I discover that a regular commenter also writes, then I will often make an effort to seek out their work when I’m between stories, but I hate having it pushed on me.

22. Has there ever been anyone who’s made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed?

Yes, but not in this fandom.

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?

Impossible to say. I’ve been graced with some of the best, most thoughtful readers/commenters in the universe!!

24. What’s the meanest review you’ve ever gotten? Do you think the reviewer intended it?

I don’t like to focus on these, but I’ve received numerous death threats for my portrayals of Mary, especially back in 2014 (the year series 3 aired) when even Johnlockers still liked her. That only changed within the past year or two! Disliking Mary was an extremely unpopular stance at first. I received a number of these as comments on stories, particularly after I disabled anonymous asks here on tumblr. For a long time, one specific Mary stan kept on reading my stuff and leaving me hate. I really wondered why they kept reading my stuff when it obviously was never going to be what they wanted to see. Note to haters out there: that’s a piss poor persuasion technique. As to my writing itself, no, not really. When I started writing fanfic in 2004, in the world of Harry Potter, one of the worst things a reviewer could call a fic was “fluffy”. The meaning of this term has changed significantly in the past 14 years, but what it meant then was that it was a story seriously lacking in real substance, OOC as hell, and badly written. While these days it tends to me “romantic, light-hearted, heart-warming, sweet”, etc, it still makes me wince any time someone calls a story of mine “fluffy” for that reason.

25. What constructive criticism, however well-meaning, always makes you feel bad when you see it in a review?

I wouldn’t say that there’s one aspect that gets commented on in a regular way. Though @totallysilvergirl beta-read my novel and pointed out a specific thing I do in terms of sentence structure, but it never made me feel badly to have it pointed out.

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

I’m always glad to hear when someone liked the main POV, and I tend to get that compliment the most when it’s a Sherlock POV. I’m also always pleased when people comment on how much a story made them feel – that’s really what I’m going for! Also, in Against the Rest of the World, I spent hours and hours on background research – locations in particular, but also things like local architecture, shipping routes and times, flight times, time zones, language, etc, so I’m always pleased when someone comments on that level of detail in that story.

27. If you could only ever write crossovers or single-fandom fics ever again, which would you pick?

Single fandom, all the way. I’m not a fan of crossovers or AU’s. I’ve written exactly two crossovers in my time. One was a Harry/Draco story in which Draco nominates Harry for the old TLC show What Not To Wear, to Harry’s fury. I had fun with that. The other, and this is pure crack now, was one of my earliest stories, a Darth Vader/Voldemort crossover. Though it isn’t actually a crossover, as DV was Harry in Polyjuice. It was very silly.

28. if you could only ever write for a single crossover or a single fandom again, which would you pick?

Single fandom, again.

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

Not applicable here; I only write for one fandom at a time. JKR turned me off Harry Potter with the ridiculous epilogue on book 7 and then her attempts to include more “canon” information in her interviews. It annoyed me hugely – but mostly it was the epilogue, which was (deliberately, most of us thought at the time) extremely difficult to write around, though I tried it for a few stories. When I finished that (my last HP story was posted in 2010, but it had been a year since the one prior), I thought I was finished with writing and with fandoms in general. Then I discovered Benedict Cumberbatch in May of 2013, and through him, Sherlock. By the time I was on ASIB, I knew with a sinking feeling that I was simply going to have to write this fandom, too. Lol. I posted the first chapter of my first fic on June 15th, 2013.

30. Do you continue to write for a fandom after you’ve moved on or do you focus solely on the new one?

History would show that I focus strictly on the new one. The only exceptions to strictly Sherlock have been my four Freebatch stories (The A.G.R.A. Complex, Having Your Cake, Always Through the Changing, and A Room with a View).

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

No one, I hope. I’ve written a large number of the characters in the Sherlock universe, including (in approximate order of frequency): Sherlock, John, Mycroft, Lestrade, Mary, Molly, Janine, Ella, Mrs Hudson, and Sally Donovan. Sherlock and John are my favourites to write, Mary and Molly my least favourites.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

Sherlock, absolutely. He’s where my heart lives. That said, some of my favourite stories of my own are John POV’s.

33. Is there any particular character whose scenes always wind up being longer/more frequent than you expected? Does the quality hold up?

No.

34. Was there any fic that you wrote that really surprised you in the fandom reaction? Was it just by the numbers or did they take it an entirely different way?

The first time I wrote a Mary POV (Moving on/Making do), I was honestly afraid that I’d made her too relatable, too likeable, but the people who read the story still disliked her. Ha! And again, the sheer popularity of Best of Three always surprised me.

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

Yes, I never meant to ship Harry/Draco, but it just happened.

36. Have you ever sincerely written a ship you do not support into a fic?

Yes, for the necessity of canon compliancy, I’ve written John/Mary, which I loathe.

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?

No. I do my very best to portray the characters as I see them in canon. There are definitely people who would said that I have bashed Mary in my stories, and I respectfully and thoroughly disagree. Mary is canonically: an assassin who killed for the highest bidder, meaning that she killed without principle, for nothing other than money. Personal gain. Gross. She’s also someone who cut and run, leaving at least half of her team alive to be killed or tortured without even checking to see if there was any possibility of rescuing them. She displayed the same urge to run away and leave John behind later, too. I find this distasteful and cowardly in the extreme. On top of this, she canonically gaslights and belittles John, which is emotionally abusive behaviour, yet “playfully” insults both him and Sherlock on an ongoing basis (“I’m not John; I can tell when people are lying” – two insults with one comment!). She displays incredible entitlement after she attempts to murder John’s best friend and doesn’t seem to think that she should need to apologise for what she did, nor that John had the right to be incredibly angry with her over it. She also showed zero signs of remorse for any of her behaviour, past or present – lying to John, anything and everything she did in her deeply criminal past, etc. When people comment and say, “I loved your evil Mary!”, my typical response is “do you mean canon!Mary?” because that’s all I’ve ever tried to write. The ONE exception I will make here is my story Scars, which is a deliberate attempt to extrapolate from Mary’s canonical gaslighting and show where that behaviour typically leads. I did my homework and consulted two therapists who work specifically with men who have been abused by women for this story, and both confirmed that they saw Mary’s behaviour as gaslighting and abusive, too. I wrote this story partly to combat the then-popular notion that Mary and John displayed “playful banter” or “bickering” at the beginning of HLV, when I saw it as clearly one-sided and not at all playful. I still don’t consider this “bashing”, however.

38. Have you ever purposefully written something you know your readers would find uncomfortable/would not enjoy? If yes, why?

Yes, the above story. Why? Because it was a story I felt had to be told. Also: The Final Proof (the one where Sherlock dies of old age), which I knew would make people cry. Again: I write what the muses prompt me to write!

39. Do you consider yourself to have a readership?

Yes, I’m very lucky to have a huge readership and it’s wonderful! (Thank you!!!!!) I don’t have any specifics on the numbers in this fandom, but when I was writing HP fic, someone wrote her doctoral dissertation on HP fanfic and she collected stats from the various archives that were active at the time, then contacted the twenty most read authors in the fandom. To my shock at the time, I was apparently the eighth most read author in the slash fandom (male/male fic), though I was far from being the eighth most popular!! She estimated my readership at close to 200,000 readers. This was HP, though, the biggest fandom in history. I don’t imagine that my readership is anywhere near that here in Sherlock-land.

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

Um, yes. I’m now close to 1.9 million words over 78 stories. I write constantly, when I have the time to do so. Occasionally a commenter will say something like, “write more, please!” and while I know it’s meant as encouragement, it can also feel slightly exasperating. I honestly don’t see how I could humanly be producing MORE. But I try. :P

41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?

I only use ao3 these days.

42. How many views has your most popular fic gotten?

As I said, Best of Three is closing in on 100,000 hits now.

43. Your least popular?

My least-read story would have to be my most recently posted, which I wouldn’t consider my least popular by a long shot. That’s honestly difficult to identify because of course one has to consider the length of time a story has been posted. It’s not fair to consider a story posted yesterday against a story that’s been up for four years. But the newest story has about 2,000 hits at the moment.

44. Do you follow/favorite/kudos/comment/review more stories than you have received?

Thanks to my readership, I don’t think that would be possible.

45. If you had to call yourself an author of a single genre (besides fanfic) what label would you give yourself?

I really only have one major work that isn’t fanfic, which is the original novel that I’m still working on getting published (and by “still working on”, I mean that I haven’t had time to work on this since July or so, whoopsie). Its technical genre definition is spy thriller, so let’s go with that! It’s loosely based on Against the Rest of the World with a dash of Vena Cava, a spy thriller with a gay romantic subplot.

46. Do you consider yourself a diverse author?

Yes. While my stories typically come to a similar result, I think they all get there in noticeably different ways! I’ve written amnesia, hurt/comfort, disability, many different character POV’s, gentle romances, heavy angst, deathfic, retirement fic, thrillers, fix-its, addiction (more in HP), magic (HP again), long novels, short sketches, character sketches, silly stuff, dark stuff. If you look at my stories chronologically, you will see a pattern of dark-light-dark-light – if I’ve just written a heap of angst, I’ll typically switch it up and write something lighter, or a different character voice, or a completely new idea (such as the Mary/Molly pairing in The Clouded Eye), etc. I do try to keep it fresh!

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Only if they were already familiar with the canon and open to reading graphic male/male sex, and that limits most of the population that isn’t already in the fandom.

48. Does anyone you know from outside of fandom know you write fanfic? Are they involved in the same fandom too?

A few people know. I’m very careful about who I tell.

49. Has anyone in your life ever read your fanfic just because you wrote it?

My mother. :) She reads all of my stories. We have a very good relationship!

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

Yes, it’s had a huge impact on my life. It’s been my secret other life since 2004, with a 3-4 year hiatus in there. Sometimes the drama gets to be a bit much, but the creative outlet of writing and the joy of sharing the love for these characters with a whole universe of other people is just unbeatable.



[flyswhumpcenter]

It’s Never Too Late to Call Quit

This sickfic is heavily inspired by @swiggity-swump’s amazing fic Late Work, based on an also really cool prompt by @taylor-tut ! I just felt like I had to credit them both because they’re Sickfic Goals TM. For once, the fic is on Tumblr, but I’ll probably still post it on AO3 later anyway.

Summary: It’s a peaceful Monday evening, and Richard has had a nice day until then. What could possibly wrong, when he has a training oral with the best student of the class on a text he personally loves? Well... It doesn’t depend on Richard.

Fandom: PDV (original work, zero need for additional material)

Word count: 2.3K words

Note: “Ulm” refers to the fanciest college one can enter. “Khâgne” and “hypokhâgne” refer to a special cursus to allow students to enter this prestigious school, which correspond to the two first years of college (but it’s literature).

Now available on AO3!

Richard is quite happy today. All his orals have been good so far, or at least decent, and he hasn’t given a single bad grade all week. This is a rare occasion, even among his fellow Ancient Literature specialists. This is the last oral he has on the list to give, and unfortunately for him, he has no oral to go through while his last student prepares his translation and commentary.

He already reads again the text he is about to give. A very short extract he loves from Aeschylus’s The Persians, a fragment of the Messenger’s address to the Queen of Persia after the defeat of Salamis. He isn’t sure about the historical accuracy of the text: he just knows he loves this play and is, deep inside, glad to give it the top student of this class.

 He has a filled grid in front of him, with all the students’ names. On this Monday evening of February, he is feeling pretty good. This is rare enough for him to smile about it. He muses over a name sloppily written in blue ink, facing the hour of the oral’s preparation and start: François Bannaire.

Despite his common name, common-sounding surname and his sloppy writing, he is by far the top student of his class. Good in everything but philosophy, brilliant in literature despite clearly disliking his teacher (who could blame him, she is quite the old hag), good enough at his secondary language to already be trilingual in English and Italian. Richard can’t lie to himself: he really likes this kid.

 “Kid” is the way he would describe François Bannaire, at least. He is fairly young, maybe too young for all he knows and is capable of doing. It’s as if he was condemned to study like a monk before joining Henri IV for his khâgne year. Nobody even knew about the school he had made his hypokhâgne year in, but his personal file was good no one even dared refusing one more student in a slightly overstuffed class. He was just this miraculous. The kind of student who had his free pass for Ulm. On this field, he has yet to disappoint anyone but the philosophy teacher, who is still a bit pissed at the boy for having just given back an introduction to an essay out of lack of inspiration for passions and war.

“Kid” is more about how François is. He is barely eighteen, discovering the joys and cons of adulthood one head at a time (he still hasn’t agreed to a single drop of alcohol, “my mom told me to be careful” has become a joke in the class, but he laughs at it too), isn’t too rushed about growing up as if he is in a daydream. He isn’t, but nobody dares telling the kind and naïve François life is harsh and will spit in his face more than once. That’s what happens when you’re one college year ahead of your age and attend an abstract cursus, Richard guesses.

 A knock on the door breaks the teacher from his thoughts and he walks to the door, already expecting his star student to rock his Bailly dictionary to success. He did so the first time around, so why would he not on the second? This is exciting, when he thinks about it. It’s always exciting when he’s certain this is going to be marvellous.

He opens the door and faces the boy, except his excitement falls flat on its face as soon as he does so. François looks… more than odd. When he would be a bit stressed, and showing so, but still make his greatest grin to his teachers, he was sporting a pained look, as if his stress had taken over. He can see his legs are shaking, and the way he holds his Greek-to-French dictionary is feeble at best.

 “H-hello s-sir… Sorry, I’m a tad late…” he rasps, breathless.

It must be anxiety. The boy has the pressure of everyone’s hopes, after all.

“Hello, François. Please take a seat in the room. I will get you the text” the teacher replies as he walks to the desk.

 The student installed himself in the back of the room, so he has to walk a little bit to reach him, but it doesn’t take long and soon enough, he’s all ready to translate the short extract. Richard goes back to his seat, at the desk, and plunges himself inside his novel. He’s corrected enough tests for the day, he can allow himself a small hour of reading, can’t he? He’s the boss of himself, duh.

The sound of a pencil scratching paper is nice, he thinks. It helps him focus, for a reason he can’t ever get out of his brain. However, the occasional muffled cough noise isn’t. It’s grating, and since he doesn’t come from him, it must come from the only other person in the room. It may just be some regular cough his mind makes up to be stronger, muffled by his student’s scarf. He shrugs it away. It’s February, of course the boy is going to be a bit sick, who isn’t?

 After a while, there is a complete silence. No pencil, no cough. He doesn’t think of it a lot at first: François must be reading his paper again to see if he made some translation error, or is thinking about what to say for the commentary on the text. Nothing big, nothing out of the ordinary. He lays back into his chair, still deep into his crime story (he’ll never admit to his workmates his love for crime novels, it’s not real literature).

“Time’s up,” Richard tells him while looking at his watch, “come to the desk now, please.”

There is no reply. No sound. Nothing.

 Feeling like he’s being kidded with, the Greek teacher gets up from his chair, clutching on his red pen in a hope to exhort his anger out of the words he is about to throw at the boy’s face. When he arrives in front of the table, he has to admit to himself something: that wretched student is fast asleep on his sheets, and the dictionary is still opened to the Ν pages. Honestly, Richard is more than a little pissed about this.

“Mr Bannaire, it is time to wake up. You have an oral to take. I do not want this to require me waking you up.”

He doesn’t even begin to stir. This is going to frustrate him to anger far quicker than he ever expected it to.

 At his feet, Richard notices a pencil whose point got broken and a tissue. That’s when he notices how unnaturally his student is slumped, left hand limply hanging out of the table while his right arm is still on the open dictionary. It’s as if he fell asleep so suddenly he didn’t have time to see it coming. This is quite an impressive fatigue, Richard thought, and a small sigh escaped his mouth. If he was this tired, maybe he should be a bit kinder today.

He puts a hand on his student’s shoulder, only to take it off a second later. Did he just put his hand on a heater instead? Doubting, he shakes him, still feeling this heat on his palms, until a cough is heard, and François finally stirs, slowly, almost numbly.

 His eyes eventually lock into his teachers’. His face is instantly washed with fear and panic, and his hands retrieve all his needed papers, including a full draft for a translation.

“I-I’m sorry sir… I didn’t mean to fall asleep…!” he grogs out before retaining a cough. “Sorry for that, let me… let me just get my stuff together for it…”

“François.”

 Upon hearing his name, the boy stops and looks at him. Richard slips his hand under the thick, chocolate brown bangs of the younger man, only to grit his teeth.

“You’re not taking that oral tonight, on my career’s sake. You’re going home right now.”

“B-but why…? It’s because I slept…?”

Richard can barely believe he just said that.

“Okay, François, listen. You’re burning up. You’re clearly ill beyond reason. You should be in bed right now, not translating some Greek. We’ll just postpone it, okay? This isn’t as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be.”

Red, puffed eyes look away as he attempts to wipe them by wiping his glasses.

“It’s just a tiny fever… I can do it, sir, please…”

“No is no, Mr Bannaire. You are officially discharged and going back home.”

Oh wait.

“No, that’s right, you live in the dorms… I’ll bring you to Edith then. She’ll be able to call your parents so you can go back home.”

 As if it was possible, François’s face loses even more colour, to the point he looks like a corpse with a huge tint of red all over his face and cheeks. He suddenly gets up from his chair and, from the other side of the table, throws himself at Richard.

“Please don’t send me home! I don’t wanna explain to my dad why I’m sick again! Just send me back to dorm, I’ll find a way to get better by tomorrow! Don’t… don’t send me home…”

“François. How long have you been sick?”

“It’s just today… I don’t know why I feel so ba… I mean why I have a fever all of a sudden. It’s just a fever.”

“I can’t let you remain on school grounds in such a condition. We’re going to the nurse’s office immediately.”

 Then, Richard realizes what’s wrong with his student.

“Did you sleep a lot lately?”

“S-sir, if it doesn’t bother you, can we do that translation now…? I still have Latin and history stuff to do…”

The man had to retain the boy from falling over.

“You’re about to pass out, François. This isn’t the time to insist on taking an oral. Your hubris isn’t going to help at the moment.”

A small smile creeps on the student’s face.

“I get it… It’s like Xerxes’s failure at Salamis…”

He sits down as Richard decides to tide his stuff up, grabbing the backpack sloppily bleeding sheets on the table.

“S-sir… Can you walk me there…? I don’t think I’m seeing very clearly anymore…”

“Of course, if it means you can get the bed you deserve.”

 A few minutes later, Richard has two backpacks on his back and a boy on his shoulder, whose ragged breathing tells better than anything else how unwell he is. This wasn’t stress, after all, but maybe he should had seen that coming.

“I think you overworked yourself, François. It’s not natural to have such a fever from a day to the other. Did you sleep lately?”

“Huh… I slept two hours last night, I think so at least…? I can’t tell, my roommates were sleeping when I went to bed and when I woke up…”

“You have some deep dark rings under you-”

“Fuck I forgot to take my medicine… That’s why my chest feels so squeezy today…”

“What medicine?”

“Asthma treatment… Mine’s pretty bad apparently… That’s what Mom kept telling me…”

 Once at the nurse’s office, Richard finally remembers something. Edith’s shift ended an hour ago, and the night time nurse doesn’t come until another hour. However, he has a key of the room, kindly given to him by Edith in case anything happened to any of his students… But the single fact she wrote “François” on the keychain tells him she had a precise goal in mind.

Once the door is unlocked, he hurries to put his student on the closest bed he can find. He gets his phone out, calls for a doctor, who tells him to call for an ambulance if the fever is higher than forty and a half, so he shoves a thermometer down the boy’s mouth, and it reads “only” forty, so they just decide to wait for the other nurse.

 “Sir, I… I can sta-”

“I’ve heard you were easily ill, is that true?” Richard asks, interrupting his sentence on purpose.

“I do… But usually it’s just colds, or at worst anginas… I’m not used to harsh fevers yet…”

“Yet?”

“I haven’t had strong fevers before a few years. I guess that’s linked to overwork, that’s what everyone keeps telling me… I hate those, I feel really bad when they happen…”

“Why not sleep more to avoid it? You look exhausted.”

“Don’t have time… I have to get to Ulm… Or else I’ll have even more depths towards my father… And I don’t want that…”

“You do now letting yourself get this sick is more counterproductive than anything, right? You’re making things even harder for yourself.”

“Y-yeah, I wish I would stop doing that, but I always feel like I’m running out of time…”

 Richard sighs. He feels bad for that boy, dammit.

“That may be because we put a lot of pressure on you and your peers, but you may feel it more easily than the others… Did you feel that way last year?”

“Not really… They weren’t as competitive as here… The pressure was on whether or not I’d get my ancient lit speciality here… Is it me or is it cold in here…”

He’s shaking like a leaf in the middle of a blizzard.

“It’s your fever. I sadly have to leave you so I can get home before half past eight, but I don’t want to see you before you’re all better, ok? I’m sure you can get the lessons from your friends. Take care, François.”

“Thanks sir… Sorry for that…”

“It’s all fine. See you when you’re better.”

“G’bye…”

 Richard exits the room, closes the door and wipes up a sheet from his bag, writing down a small note for the incoming nurse. Once it’s done, he gets some transparent tape from his pencil case, tapes the paper to the door and makes his way to the exit of the school. It’s been a while since he genuinely hoped someone would get better soon.

[deadgwen]

IT IS A HAPPY 17TH BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST GOAT

@fucshias  @jiilys  MY LOVE GOATY. MY MOST BEAUTIFUL GOAT. MY SUN. MY STARS. MY BEAUTIFUL HOOVED CREATURE OF GOD. I HAVE ARRIVED TO SAY SOME IMPORTANT THINGS BUT FIRSTLY I LOVE YOU I LOVE I LOVE YOU U R READING THIS POST RIGHT NOW DUE TO A VERY IMPORTANT REASON AND THIS IMPORTANT REASON IS THAT

*CHOKES BACK TEARS*

IT IS UR BIRTHDAY.

*SCREAMING*

OK OKI DOKI BEFORE I START: I AM NOT ACTUALLY HERE BUT DO NOT BE D I S E N H E AR T E N E D BC I JUST DONT HAVE WIFI BUT I PROMISE U SOMEWHERE OUT THERE I AM SULKING AND FIGHTING A WALL AND ALSO SETTING OFF FIREWORKS BC !!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS UR FUCKING DAY AND IM SORRY I COULD NOT WISH U BUT I LOVE U SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH I AM HERE W/ U IN SPIRIT

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT TURN THE FUCK UP HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVE HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO U UR EXCELLENT AND I LOVE YOU AND ALSO WHAT THE FUCK BINCH HOW ARE U SEVENTEEN TODAY U ASSHOLE (COPYRIGHT U KNOW WHO) WHO ALLOWED U TO BE LIKE THIS AND ALSO I LOVE YOU. AND ALSO I CANT BELIEVE UVE DONE THIS. UR LITERALLY SEVENTEEN TODAY I AM NOT ALRIGHT AND I NEED U TO HOLD ME BECAUSE I AM GOING TO COME OVER AND FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF BEING A DRAMATIC BITCH I WILL FAINT IN UR ARMS I AM 100% NOT ALRIGHT

like,,,, HONESTLY u are so. fucking. great. WHERE DO I EVEN START. 

FIRST AND FOREMOST I WANNA SAY I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED FOR THIS FOR UR BDAY I LOVE YOU GOATY I AM SO PUMPED THAT UR SO OLD ITS RIDICULOUS @ ME FUCK OFF ALRIGHT BUT. JUST. I LOVE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY U GOAT UR BEYOND INCREDIBLE

UR OFFICIALLY A DANCING QUEEN UR YOUNG AND SWEET. ONLY. *SMASHES OPEN MY WINDOW AT 12 MIDNIGHT* SEVENTEEEEEEEEEEEEEN

SO OH MY GOD. I AM CURRENTLY YELLING BECAUSE??????????? LIKE???????????????? YOU'RE SEVENTEEN??????? HOW DID WE EVEN COME TO THIS POINT ITS INSANE LIKE HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU SEVENTEEN WE'RE ALL JUST STILL TINY SMOLS WHERE ARE U GOING WHY ARE U GROWING OLDER STOP IT PLS ALRITE I DO NOT LIKE. MY PRECIOUS GOAT SUNSHINE WHO IS A PROFESSIONAL PAJAMA CONSULTANT A REAL SOLID BUSINESSWOMAN WHO DRIVES AND SHIT AND COULD PROBABLY RUN ME OVER AND IS 6'3 SO IF U WOULD SIT ON ME I WOULD MOST CERTAINLY DIE UR OFFICIALLY A DANCING QUEEN AND I AM CRYING

but in all seriousness I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU i am FOREVER AND EVER glad that i met u LIKE I FUCKIN HATE U GODMDAN FUCKIBG GOAT MAKING ME REBLOG THIGNS FUCK YUO FUCK O FF but like????? apart from that UR FUCKING BEYOND FABULOUS and i have decided to compile a list of reasons why u are unbelievably great and have earned ur title of being a dancing queen/brilliant goat/actual love of my life. bc u are excellent. AND IT MUST BE WRITTEN OUT HERE SOMEWHERE THAT I LOVE YOU. 

OK OK OK SO HERE WE GO BINCHES. PREPARE URSELF. THIS IS GONNA BE SUPER LENGTHY BECAUSE I LOVE YOU A LOT AND I AM GONNA DO A 'ON THE JELLICOE ROAD' WORTHY REVIEW OF U BUT LIKE A SHITTIER VERSION SO U BETTER FUNKIN BUCKLE UP BITCH

LEZGO:

IS OBVIOSULY FABULOUS

IS A REAL LIFE GIRAFFE 

WE ARE BLESSED TO HAVE ONE ROAM OUT OF CAPTIVITY LIKE............. WE ARE STRONGLY BLESSED

I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH

CLAIMS TO HAVE 'barely any leg but a huge torso' and interpret this how u want bUT i just wanna say u r the most fucked up giraffe ever ok what the fuck WHO HURT YOU

apparently dis binch owns a bunny AND NEVER TOLD ME SHE DID

owns a problematic rabbit bc it pees everywhere

said problematic rabbit likes to pee everywhere so much its ridiculous it has no respect for the value of items of modern society and thus in my opinion should be sent to COURT

@ rabbit U NASTY OK PLS GET UR PRIORITIES SORTED???? THIS HAS BEEN A MOTHERFUCKING PSA THANK U (CAROLINE I AM TRUSTING YOU TO SHOW THIS ON UR PHONE TO THE GODDAMN BUNNY I NEED IT TO KNOW)

is 100% excellent at looking after drunk people ALRITE literally THIS WOMAN IS A SAINT who has saved REAL LIVES tbh where would that poor child from your old intermediate be if u hadn't SAVED HIS ENTIRE LIFE from all that tequila he would DEAD thats fuKCIN RIGHT U DESERVE ALL THE MEDALS A TRUE HERO AMONG NEW ZEALANDERS. A NATIONAL ICON. SO BRAVE I AM SO PROUD I LOVE YOU ALWAYS

AND ALSO PULLING DRUNK MAKING OUT PEOPLE OFF EACH OTHER I JUST WANT U TO KNOW THAT UR EFFORTS ARE SO VERY RECOGNIZED BECAUSE ONE TIME I DID THAT AND I GOT PUNCHED IN THE THROAT I THOUGHT I DIED BECAUSE I SAW JESUS BUT IT WASNT ACTUALLY JESUS IT WAS JUST A POSTER TAPED TO A FRIDGE I WAS SCAMMED

her own mum has called the police on her and was 100% ready for some quality fun family jailtime

ALSO ONE TIME GOATY ACCIDENTALLY FUCKED UP SOMEONES REAR MIRROR AND THE VICTIMS OF THE INCIDENT DID NOT GIVE HALF A FUCK HOWEVER, HER MOTHER GOATY REPORTED SEVERAL FUCKS TO THE POLICE AND FILED AN ACCIDENT REPORT AND THAT WAS THE DAY MY GOATY BECAME A DARK CRIMINAL

*OMINOUS MUSIC*

I AM STILL WAITING FOR THE DAY I WALK MY BUTT INTO COURT AGAINST UR MUM COVERED HEAD TO ASS IN $3 PLASTIC BRACELETS BACKED BY UR UNEXPECTEDLY KLEPTOMANIAC SISTER AND A BASKET OF STOLEN WOMANS DAYS AND ALONG WITH BLING BLING JIMMY WE WILL RESTORE THE RIGHTEOUSNESS AND LACK OF CONSCIENCE ON THIS LOVELY EARTH

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ENOUGHT ABOUT UR MUM LIKE ACTUALLY ALL UR FAMILY MEMBERS ARE DIFFERENT LEVELS OF WILD AND..... I AM AFRAID

OK OK IT MUST BE SAID CAROLINE HAS THE MOST AMAIZNG VOICE ????? EVER

like i love her voice sm SO FUCKING MUCH I TELL U i have never heard anything like it and i want caroline to like read me books for hours AND HOURS AND NARRATE MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE because i love how unusually deep and shadowy her voice sounds like deep flowing river water or smth like i LOVE IT SO MUCH it. Is.So. Strange BUT I LOVE IT IT IS THE COOLEST GODDAMN THING THROW A BUCKET AT ME I LOVE YOU

HAS A VIDEO OF HERSELF DOING THE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE AND I KNOW I HAVE PRAISED IT FOR TWO YEARS IN A ROW ALREADY LIKE @ ME PLZ CHILL BUT i will not i will NEVER it is solid entertainment a+++ QUALITY I AM LAUGHIGN IM LAUGHING I AM LAUGHING FOREVER those beautiful hops of pain across ur backyard ARE THE LAST THINGS I WANT TO SEE BEFORE GOD TAKES ME FROM THIS EARTH

WRONGFULLY FRAMED ME FOR HAVING SHIT DICK TENDENCIES AND THEN YELLED AT ME AND CALLED ME A GARAGE WHAT A BINCH I AM IN LOVE

loves yellow flowers AND ALL THE FLOWERS AND HEAVY ROSES AND IS A FULL OUT FLOWER HOE

IS DESPICABLE TEEN WOLF GARBAGE LIKE.... ive been scrolling through our fanmails AND MY HEART HUR T S G O A T Y hOld mE we were sO Y O U N  G and like no lie i shit u not 80% oF THE FUCKING MESSAGES ARE U YELLING 'STYDIA IS GONNA HAPPEN THIS SEASON' AND 'OH MY GOD DID U SEE THAT STYDIA SCENE' AND DECLARATIONS OF LOVE FOR LYDIA MARTIN AND THE OTHER 20% IS U ASKIN ME IF IVE SEEN THE NEW TEEN WOLF I LOVE IT I LOVE YOU I AM SORRY TEEN WOLF KEEPS DISAPPOINTING US BOTH BUT STDYIA IS. DEFINIETELY. GONNA. HAPPEN. THIS. SEASON. IT HAS TO OR I WILL FUKIN FITE ALRIGHT GIVE US STYDIA OR GIVE US DEATH I LOVE UR TEEN WOLF LOVIBG ASS

anyway caroline is an utterly excellent person

if u were an ncea paper i would grade u with excellence

*FINGER GUNS*

like ?????deals with my stupid yelling ALL THE TIME

whenever i had a problem and went to my goaty she was so very understanding and patient AND DID NOT CALL ME A DUMBASS WHEN I DESERVED TO BE DECKED

TOLD ME THE TRU DEFINTION OF THE PHRASE 'SHOT'

TWO YEARS OF UTTER CONFUSION. ERASED FROM MY LIFE. PERMANENTLY.

MY SKIN?? CLEARED . MY FUTURE BILLS ??? PAID MY HUSBAND MARRIED MY STATUE FOR CAROLINE FULLY ERECTED

ok but like i can never say this enough goaty IS SO NICE TO TALK TO PLETAHE TALK TO ME FORVER SHE IS FABULOUS??? it blows my mind constantly that someone this incredible and special walks along this earth NONE OF US DESERVE THE GOAT

also ???? WHAT IN THE FUCK HOW HAVE I NOT MENTIONED THIS YET CAROLINE IS THE BEST WRITER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE SHE IS SO TALENTED EVERY TIME I READ ONE OF HER FICS I END UP THINKING ABOUT IT AFTERWARDS FOR 958495894 YEARS ALRIGHT THEY FUCK ME UP THEY WAY SHE HANDLES WORDS FUCKS ME UP HOW CAN YOUT TAKE FUCKING LETTERS AND THEN SHOVE THEM UP MY ASS LIKE THIS I AM NOT ALRIGHT I AM NOT ALRIGHT I AM NOT ALRIGHT I am Not Strong Enough For This

i am not even kidding ok THE WAY U HANDLE WORDS IS IN.FUCKING.CREDIBLE whenever u use them its like?? u turned them into something precious and all your writing have this feel to it like as if im holding a delicate bouqet of a thousand yellow flowers like im holding a butterfly in my hands like im holding a box of eggs and i am scared shitless to drop it bC MY DAD WILL PERSONALLY CRUCIFY ME

I AM AWFUL AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT I HOPE U SEE WHAT I MEAN. LIKE. IT IS SO *SCREAMS* MINBLOWING DECK ME WITH ALL UR WORDS EVER

I AM ONE HUNDRED FUCKING PERCENT NEVER OKAY WITH ANYTHING YOU WRITE IT HURTS SO GOOD AND I LOVE IT

ok ok this hoe right here has written THREE fics with a dedication for me at the beginning and like.............. ..... do u ever just cri

i have 'the glorious everywhere' printed out and FUCKING PINNED TO MY WALL WHERE I CAN SEE IT FROM ALL CORNERS OF MY ROOM ALWAYS back in my apartment in russia like it is legitimately the best thing. i love everything about this piece it should be adapted into a novel or a short film like PULL SOME FIFTY SHADES OF GREY SHIT W/ IT OK the imagery and REALNESS of this fic gets to me all the time and im crying im crying im crying I ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT PLS @ CAROLINE WHY ARE U SO TALENT

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT LOOK AT THIS BULLSHIT FUCKIG I THINK ABOUT THIS FIC EVERY SINGLE DAY WHEN I WAKE UP FUCKING LOOK ' You see her hair dripping down her head and spinning out over the seats in the back and lighting them on fire. You see her pale skin and electric veins as she puts her hand out the window and tries to catch the sky and stuff it up her sleeve. You hear her voice, “Just drive James, you’ll know where we’re going when we get there.”  

REALLY I AM NOT FUCKIGN Okay CALL AN AMBULANCE CALL IT NOW I AM UNWELL I AM SICK I AM DYING FUK ME RITE UP

i am fully convinced this is the greatest thing thats ever been written.like. How. the. FUCK. tbh i want this paragraph ENTIRELY TATTOOED ON MY ASS I AM ZCRYING @ CAROLINE YOU HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BRAIN AND I AM SO VERY GLAD THAT IT EXISTS

i will not go into depth abt yelling about ur fics bc tbh i think u Know but I JUST WANNA SAY 'oh darling i have coloured blood (that i stole from you)' is the most iconic piece of literature to this day ever the and i zcri all the time because you are a goddamn bloody genius and you shine in colours beyond my comprehension and i love you so so so incredibly much

MY LOVE IS SO FUCKING TALENTED I AM YELLING I AM YELLING I AM YELLING

DOESN'T EAT FRIED SPERM

writes the BEST emails in history

UR SO LOVELY U GIVE ME SO MANY BEAUTIFUL SPELLING ERRORS FOR ME TO WHOLEHEARTEDLY ENJOY I AM GIGGLING *GIGGLES* IT BRINGS ME SO MUCH JOY WHEN U FUCK THINGS UP

tbh it is how fried chair came to life like it was actually in one of your first fanmails to me u said that two years ago and to this day it remains the Most Iconic Thing Ever

STRONG SUPPORTER OF WEETBIX

LOVES WEETBIX

FOUGHT TIGERS AND LIONS FOR HER FAMILY AND WAS SAVED BY WEETBIX AND WEETBIX ALONE 

ACTUALLY HAD A THING CALLED ‘WEETBIX DISCOURSE’ ON HER BLOG LIKE IT WAS ACTUALLY A THING THAT HAPPENED A REAL THING THAT OCCURED AND WAS PASSIONATELY ARGUED ABOUT AND I HAVE SEEN THINGS THAT CANNOT BE UNSEEN

RIGHTFULLY SO BC WEETBIX >>>>> JONAH GRIGGS I AM SORRY IT IS THE RULES

FUCK THE H8RS

like ??? is hilarious af QUEEN OF HUMOUR AND MAKING ME SNORT MY GODDAMN CHOCLATE MILK LIKE CAN U NOT BE SO EXCEPTIONAL U HO HAVE SOME CONSIDERATION U LIL BITCH but YES a++ top notch QUALITY storytelling skills in both fic writing and tequila struggles I APPRECIATE IT TO DEATH

ok ok ok also the most beautiful person ever??? LIKE ???????????????? BITCH WHAT THE FUCK ??????????????????????????????????????????????? WHO ALLOWED U

THE MOST PERFECT HAIR. ur hair is like waves of a golden ocean cascading from ur hEAD AND IT IS SO MAGICALLY FITTING B/C U R AN ETHEREAL BEING AND THE FACT THAT U HAVE AN ENTIRE WILD SEA RAGING ON UR HEAD JUST PROVES TO ME THAT U ARE A GOD AMONG MORTALS. UR HAIR IS SO PRETTY OK OK OKAY FUCK ME UP. STRAIGHT UP GORGEOUS. SO SOFT TOO AND SO SHINY AND IT FITS U SO WELL I AM FOREVER SCREAMING

THE MOST ANGEL FACE. GOATYS FACE LOOKS LIKE GOD OR WHOEVER THE FUCK WAS RESPONSIBLE CARVED IT OUT OF ROSE PETALS AND MARBLE LIKE. IT. IS. TRULY. THE MOST GORGEOUS THING ur face is softer than clouds tbh AND UR SMILE SAVES MY LIFE ITS BRIGHTER THAN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE CONDENSED AND SOMETIMES WHEN I SEE UR SELFIES I HAVE TO GO GET LASER EYE SURGERY BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN B L I N D E D

U R SO UNCONSIDERATE TO MY FRAGILE HEALTH HOW DARE YOU

SO. GODDAMN GORGEOUS SLAY MY ENTIRE LIFE I BEG U ID PAY U TO SIT ON ME WITH UR HUGE BONES AND SLOWLY CRUSH ME INTO AN ENDLESS DEATH I HAVE $4 LEFT OVER FROM MY LIFE SAVINGS DO IT BAE

has the best taste in music omg WHAT A BLESSING WE LIKE THE SAME SONGS AND IT ACTUALLY KIND OF SCARES ME B/C IT FEELS LIKE WE ARE THE SAME PERSON AND THIS DOES NOT HELP MY CONSTANT STATE OF EXISTENTIAL CRISIS

HAS THE BEST TASTE IN BOOKS and adores skam as much as i do AND LOVES CHRIS/EVA AS MUCH AS IDO AND WROTE A FIC FOR THEM AND THE SNIPPET FROM IT ????? MY SOUL. GONE.

so tol and will never stop accusing me of being smol but listen up aight. imma FUCK YOU UP. REAL GOOD. ONE DAY. WHEN I CAN AFFORD TO BUY A LADDER. UNTIL THEN SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN BINCH BC I AM COMING TO GET U

and is also the smartiest smart to ever smart LOOK AT MY U GO WITH UR EXCELLENCE ENDORSEMENT when i buy that ladder I WILL CLIMB IT AND HOVER AROUND UR HEAD LOTS SO I CAN ABSORB UR POWERS AND ALSO BREATHE THE FRESH AIR UP THERE WHICH IS NOT AVAILABLE TO GROUNDED PEASANTS SUCH AS ME

AND IS THE BEST COOKIE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE LIKE IF THIS ISNT ENOUGH TO CONVINCE ANYONE THAT CAROLINE IS BEYOND EXCEPTIONAL FOR OUR GALAXY THEN THEY CAN FUCK OFF PLS OK

like honestly,,, MY LOVE I COULD GO ON FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND CENTURIES UNTIL MY TEETH FALL OUT AND I GROW SENILE WITH MY LOVE BUT THE POINT OF THIS HOT STEAMING LAME MESS IS THAT I LOVE YOU TO BLOODY PIECES UR SO F U C K I N G INCREDIBLE I AM SO GLAD I MET YOU AND THAT YOU TAlk TO ME AND WE EMAIL EACH OTHER AND I AM BLESSED THAT YOU EVEN THINK OF ME AND THAT FREID CHAIR LOVES ME AND THAT U R MY GOAT BC UR MY ONLY GOAT AND UR THE BEST ONE THERE IS NO SHADE @ ALL OTHER GOATS BUT LIKE. IM SORRY I CANNOT TELL A LIE

IT IS THE COLD HARD TRUTH. 

and like??? i did a /search/deadgwen ON @jiilys BC I WANTED TO LOOK AT ALL OUR OLD STUFFS FROM 2015 and I Regret it I Regret it So Much theres a selfie from like when i was 14 and an idiot still on Ur blog and I look like an actual tragedy I Want to Die  we have known each other for so long its RIDICULOUS UR STILL AS AMAZING AS U WERE BACK THEN AND I AM MORE OR LESS CURED OF MY CONDITION OF BEING AN EMBARASSING DIPSHIT AND ITS CRAZY HOW MUCH YOUNGER WE WERE THEN LIKE UM WTF BUT UR STILL AS BEAUTIFUL AND 9384930X TIMES MORE AND I STILL LOVE U BC UR PERFECT AS EVER AND THAT IS WHAT MATTERS

NOW. I WAS GONNA MAKE YOU A PRESENT LIKE I REALLY DID BAE I TRIED SO MUCH SHIT ITS HORRIBLE BC LIKE ??? I WANTED TO MAKE YOU A PRESENTATION ON UR GOAT SUPERIORTY LIKE I DID LAST YEAR EXCEPT Like i am a fucking asshole™(COPYRIGHT JONAH GRIGGS THE MAN TEH MYTH THE LEGEND) who cannot do shit FOR SHIT it turned out so Awful and i cANNOT GRAPHIC BABE I TRIED TO MAKE YOU THIS EDIT AND THEN I REALIZED IT WAS Bad AND FOUGHT MYSELF FOR SIX HOURS AND I CANNOT WRITE AND YOU DESERVE ALL THE GIFTS EVER BUT I AM TRULY AWFUL

*ZCRIES*

I KNOW IM  LAME AND MY ONLY TALENT IS YELLING FOR HOURS ON END I WISH I COULD HAVE MADE YOU SOMETHING REALLY COOL BC ITS UR SEVENTEETH AND 17 IS THE BEST NUMBER AND UR LOVELY AND I LOVE YOU SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME BAE FOR BEING AN ACTUAL GARAGE ASSHOLE (COPYRIGHT JONAH GRIGGS THE EXPERIENCE) SHIT DICK 100% TERRIBLE DICKFLUTE OKAY I LOVE YOU AND I CAN NEVER IMAGINE WHAT I WOULD BE WITHOUT YOU IN MY LIFE AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A REALLY REALLY REALLY GOOD YEAR LIKE FUCK SHIT UP BAE UR GONNA BE IN YEAR 13 ITS ALL GONNA BE SO AWFUL AND WE WILL ALL DIE aND WERE SO O L D JESUS CHRIST IF HEART ATTACKS DONT TAKE US OUT NCEA LEVEL 3 WILL BUT I HOPE THIS WILL BE A SUPER GOOD YEAR FOR U IN REGARDS OF EVERYTHING BECAUSE U DESERVE IT U DESERVE IT U DESERVE IT I HOPE THINGS WILL LEAD UP TO U GETTING THAT APARTMENT IN NEW YORK AND ALL THE HIGH HEELS THAT U WILL WEAR AND ALL THE YELLOW FLOWERS THAT U WILL BUY AND UR CAREER AS A LIFECHANGING LITERARY GENIUS OK OK I LOVE YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE

ok ok ok but. 

ONE MORE THING.

LISTEN.

THE FUCKING

*CLECNHES JAW*

REBLOG FIASCO

*FLINGS MY ASS INTO THE SUN*

WHEN IT IS GOOD AND DAYLIGHT. U HAVE UNTIL THEN. LIKE I KNOW THIS IS UR BIRTHDAY WISH AND I LOVE YOU BUT FUCK OFF HWO COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU I FUCKING FUCK JUST FUCK YOU FUCKING DICK i will RIOT 

OKAY BABE ITS MIDNIGHT AND ILL BE UP IN ABOUT SIX HOURS AND LIKE. ANYTHING. ANYTHING ELSE FOR UR BIRTHDAY WISH OK BABE IM GONNA FUCKING DIE THIS IS IT THIS THE END I WILL GO DOWN SWEARING PROFUSELY WITH A HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE AND U WILL BE WATCHING AND LAUGHI G ANF @OFFICALTALL FUCK YU FUCKDUCKUD CUDCKUD DNUSJNDJF FUCK U @GOATY FUCK. UFCN WHERE IS UR HOOF WHY ARE U NOT FEELIN THE TEMPERATURE ITS EBOLA ITS GOATBOLA I WONT MAKE IT UNTIL DAWN I WONT SEE THE SUNLIGHT GOATY I CANT *FAKE CRYING SOUNDS* I WILL DIE. IT WILL HAPPEN. AND I WANT IT TO BE KNOWN THAT U ARE THE BITCH THAT KILLED ME. *MORE FAKE ZCRYING SOUNDS* I MUST SEND MESSAGES TO ALL MY DEAREST KIND FRIENDS WHO HAVE NEVER FUCKED ME LIKE THIS ALRIGHT *FAKE COUGHING* TELL THEM THAT I *MORE FAKE COUGHOGN* LOVE THEM *THROWS KETCHUP PACKET EVERYWHERE WHILE UR NOT LOOKING AND BUSY BEING WORRIED ABOUT MY HEALTH* AND I WILL REMEMBER THEM EVEN IN DEATH

ANYWAY HERE IS MY WILL:

WHAT U GET:

nothing

u get nothing

bINCH

zero. zip. nada

0 potato 4 u

U CAN HAVE THE SALT FROM MY KITCHEN SO U WILL BE PERPETUALLY REMINDED OF MY LAST EMOTIONS TOWARDS THIS LIFE

maybe like the one half a potato that was randomly in my drIVEWAY THAT ONE TIME 

M A Y B E

WHAT GOOD KIND LOVING FRIENDS, SUCH AS MILS AND FRIED CHAIR AND ELLIE AND OTHER ASSORTED PEOPLES WHICH I SHALL ADDRESS IN CLAUSE 4.20 OF THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS OF MY WILL, GET:

actually mils is a hoe and can choke but u r the evil here rn aND FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS ARGUMENT WE WILL PRETEND THAT I LIKE MILS

ANYWAY. REALLY GOOD THINGS I OWN

I HAVE SOME SOCKS I DONT WANT U GUYS CAN HAVE THEM

AND LIKE

MY DUVET

SEE GOATY THESE ARE THE KIND OF HEART TOUCHING POST DEATH GIFTS U MISS OUT ON WHEN U MURDER ME IN COLD BLOOD

ALSO NO TOUCHING MY MANGOES THAT I BOUGHT TWO DAYS AGO BECAUSE I STILL WANT TO EAT THEM AND IF ANYONE EVEN BREATHES IN THEIR GENERAL DIRECTION I WILL BEAT THEM UNCONSCIOUS WITH A TELEPHONE THIS IS A T H R E A T

I HOPE UR TAKING NOTES AND I HOPE U FEEL GOOD ABOUT BEING A 6′3 KILLER BECAUSE UR AN ASSHOLE ™LIKE UR ASSHOLIER™ THAN THE REAL ASSHOLE THAT IS JONAH GRIGGS™ THE LABEL™ (COPYRIGHT JONAH GRIGGS™ THE ANT MURDERING HOT PIECE OF ASS™) BUT I WILL DIE FOR U MY GOAT *strokes ur pretty face* BC IT IS UR BIRTHDAY WISH FOR ME TO SUFFER AND I LOVE YOU AND I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR U THEREFORE . DESPITE THIS SICKNESS *FLAILS* I. WILL. BE. BRAVE. I WILL REBLOG THOSE TWENTY POSTS I WILL FLATLINE BY THE THIRD POST AND MY BLOOD WILL BE ON UR HANDS *CAREFULLY ARRANGES MY STUNT GOAT IN POSITION* AND I WILL BE YELLING CURSES AT YOU IN THE TAGS BUT I WILL DIE IN THE NAME OF HONOUR I WILL GO DOWN AS A GOAT NEVER HAS BEFORE 

BUT LIKE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND I I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC I AM SO HAPPY U EXIST. HAVE THE BOMBEST ASS 17TH BIRTHDAY BABE I HOPE UR PARTY IS LIT AND HAVE FUN GETTING DRUNK AND HAVING ALL THE BANTS AND LAFFS AND ALSO I WILL SEND U THE AWAITED EMAIL IN A FEW HOURS WHEN MY INTERENT IS BACK ON  BECAUSE IT IS A CONTINUATION OF THIS BULLSHIT WITH SOME STRUCTURED DISCUSSION AKA WHAT THE FUCK DO U HAVE AGAINST SMIRNOFF ICE how is it not HARDCORE enough for u IT IS LITERALLY FLAVOURED VODKA DOES IT NOT KNOCK OUT UR 6′3 ASS OR WHAT EXCUSE ME 

ANYWAY IN CONCLUSION.

HAPPY. SEVENTEENTH. BIRTHDAY. MY. CHUM.

*BLOWS U A KISS*

*PUTS ON TWO FÜR COATS TO REMAIN UNDETECTED* 

*STEALS ALL UR WEETBIX AND RUNS AWAY TO ALASKA NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN*

*still replies ur emails tho cuz i love u bitch y u do dis to me*