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yesimwriting · 2 years

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Final Girl (Part 2)

Final Girl Series Masterlist (currently updated parts 1 - 9 and extras)

A/N this one’s a bit of a filler but it’s needed and i’m looking forward to part 3!! a scene in part 3 inspired this entire fic :)) also i love feedback!! comments make my day and motivate me to write :)) so if you’re so inclined,, i’d love to hear your thoughts :)

also lmk if you’d like to be tagged!!

Fandom: (original) Scream

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: The only good thing that’s come from Casey’s murder and your injuries is that your good friends Billy and Stu are determined to help you.

also i made the reader’s birthday Halloween bc it helps the plot and i love halloween and am so jealous of fall birthdays!! So on the really good chance that your birthday isn’t on Halloween, just go with it!! Also I named the mom character bc the reader’s connection to her mom is kinda specific and relevant for plot and that felt easier lol

Warnings: maybe a tiny bit too fluffy in some parts but there’s a reason for it!! also gaslighting and the beginning of emotional manipulation (it’s billy and stu, y’all should’ve expected it lol)

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I’ve always hated hospitals. Waking up with bandages I don’t remember getting placed on me just to receive the news of Casey’s death certainly hasn’t made me grow fonder of them. If anything, each additional second I spend in this hospital cot adds to the agony in my body.

“Miss L/n, are you feeling any better?” Nurse Samantha’s voice is cautious and smooth, but not overly peppy like Nurse Molly’s.

In another life, in another situation, I might have really liked Nurse Samantha. She gave me extra Jell-O when she noticed that it was the only thing from my tray that I picked at. She was the only one willing to be honest about Casey’s death with me. But this isn’t another life or situation, so when I look at her, all I can think about is what it felt like to wake up here. Alone.

But that’s not her fault, so instead of attempting to get out of this damn bed again, I just nod slowly. “A little.” My voice is so hollow and hoarse that it sounds wrong in my ears.

She waits for me to clear my throat before speaking again. “Your boyfriends are here to see you, but if you’re not up for visitors--”

“Boyfriends?” My voice is slightly less gritty than it was when I first spoke. “I don’t have a boyfriend, let alone a plural amount of them.”

Nurse Samantha’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh, my apologies,” she then tilts her head slightly, leaning against the doorframe of the hospital room. “But you might want to consider breaking that news to the two boys that have been harassing our receptionist since a little after you arrived.”

My eyebrows draw together in confusion. What is she--

“You said she was awake, which meant she could take visitors, so take us--”

Yeah, even in my state, that voice cleared everything up. “Billy.”

He’s close enough to Nurse Samatha to tower over her, but when he snaps his head in my direction, all sense of anger is gone. In an instant, he’s in my room. I must be more out of it than I thought, because I’m slightly surprised when Stu comes in right behind him.

“Visiting hours are technically over, but considering what you’ve been through and the late time you were brought in, I can make a bit of an exception. If you need anything, press the call button.”

I nod again, a little more grateful for Nurse Samatha than I was before. Not only do I love the idea of not being alone here, I’m also glad she decided to let Billy and Stu in before they got irritated. I know I haven’t known them that long, but I think Billy has a bit more of a temper than he’d like to let on, and Stu takes not getting his way personally.

“Okay, thank you.”

She disappears down the hall after a quick nod of her head.

Billy has pulled forward one of the hospital room’s chairs so that he’s sitting as close to my bed as possible. He grabs my hand as soon as he’s settled. His fingers are squeezing mine so tightly it’s slightly uncomfortable. “Hi.”

His greeting is oddly hesitant, maybe even a little nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Billy this unsure before. “Hey.”

The silence that falls over us after that is serious. Much too serious for Stu to just stand on the sidelines in silence. Actually, it’s weird that Stu’s on the sidelines at all. What’s his deal? He never needs an excuse to be touchy and now that I actually need a hug, he’s choosing to keep his distance. Where was this restraint when I made eye contact with a cute boy during lunch and Stu decided that that’d be the perfect time to rest his head on my shoulder?

I tear my gaze away from Billy’s hard stare, ready to call out Stu for being so weird. But then I see his expression. His face is oddly pale and his eyes are wide and kind of blank.

“Stu, I’m fine, you can’t catch a concussion.”

Instead of taking the out and making some kind of joke, Stu’s expression falls even more. “A concussion?”

Oh. Maybe Stu’s more worried than I thought. “Relax, we don’t know anything for sure. Concussions can take up to days to form, it hasn’t been long enough.” He doesn’t seem eased. “Would you stop looking at me like that? I’m fine, Casey’s the one that--” My voice catches on itself. Nope—still can’t even say it. “Would you please just come over here and be normal? I’m tired and I-I really want to pretend that I’m not in a hospital and I can’t do that with you staring at me like I’m on death’s doorstep.”

His eyebrows draw together, but all he does is shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Stu,” Billy’s voice comes out so low and harsh I find myself gaping at him. “Y/n is asking you for one thing. For you to be normal.”

On a normal night, I’d brush off their tension with some kind of joke or laugh. It’s not the first time I’ve ever witnessed the way they disappear into each other. A slightly longer than average glance or a simple sentence is all it takes to initiate one of their silent exchanges. Whenever they get like that, I can’t help but wonder what they’re like when they’re alone.

Stu nods once, the motion oddly stiff, but then his eyes move so that he’s looking at me. And just like that, they’re back. Stu shuffles towards me. He moves like he wants to hug me but can’t figure out a tactful way to do it with all the wires connected to me. He settles for a gentle, barely there shoulder squeeze. It’s so awkward and unusually gentle I find an unexpected fondness tugging at my chest.

He lets go of me, his hand moving forward to allow the knuckle of his pointer finger to graze the edge of the cotton bandage on my forehead. “It’s okay, Stu.” When he doesn’t ease, I continue, “No stitches. Doctor said it won’t even scar.”

With that, Stu softens completely. He grabs the hand that Billy isn’t holding. “Won’t even scar, huh?”

His easiness is infectious. “Nope.”

“Good thing, too,” Billy says, “Wouldn’t want anything hurting that pretty face.”

My eyes widen slightly, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Shut up, I’m a total mess right now. I’m literally in the hospital.”

“And you still look like an angel.” If I thought that the earlier comment had me struggling to form a coherent thought, this is something else. I hate how stunned into silence I am, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s totally reveling in my reaction. “Don’t even think a scar could make you less pretty.”

Weakly, I try to cover how sentimental I’m feeling. “I almost got murdered, you have to be nice to me.”

Billy exaggeratedly frowns. “I’m always nice to you.”

I pretend to contemplate his words. “Mm...nice-ish.”

There’s something oddly comforting about Billy’s mock gasp. It’s a display of the softer side of him that I’ve only ever caught glimpses of. “Now who’s mean?”

“Still you.”

Billy rolls his eyes at Stu’s reply. I turn, expression easing at the look on Stu’s face. “You’re on my side?”

“Always,” he hums pleasantly, thumb running along my knuckles. He’s definitely lying. Billy and Stu seem to understand each other in way that I’ve never seen between two people, but the gesture is still nice.

The realization that I’m really glad that they’re here settles into me comfortably, in a content sort of way. “I’m happy you guys are here.”

Stu tilts his head, his free hand moving to gently catch my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. I blink, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. He’s staring, analyzing me with a focus I didn’t think he was capable of. “You’re cute when you’re high.” My lips part in protest, but before I can get any words out, Stu continues, “You probably watched your friend get gutted, they definitely gave you something strong.”

I frown, sinking further into the hospital bed without thinking about it. Noticing my reaction, Billy throws a dirty look in Stu’s direction before leaning over me in order to punch Stu’s arm. “Shut up.”

“What? She knows I didn’t mean it in any bad way.” He then turns to look back at me. “You know that, right?”

I’m not exactly in the mood to brush off Stu’s insensitivity the way I normally would, and I don’t think I have the energy to humor him--but I also can’t bring myself to alienate them. I nod once, the motion tired and vague.

Billy runs his thumb over my knuckles gingerly, brining my attention back to him. “You did say you wanted him to be normal.”

At that, I almost laugh. “Yeah, that’s on me.” A moment of silence passes, and for whatever reason, I don’t like it. “Y’know, I didn’t see anything. I-I was knocked out before it happened.” I can’t believe I’m talking about this. “I didn’t even know what happened to Casey until one of the nurses told me so that I’d cooperate with police questioning.”

“The police already questioned you?” Billy’s question comes out too fast, too urging. “We’ve been waiting to be able to see you for hours, we didn’t know if y--”

“Billy.” Some hard to name aspect of his personality takes on a darker shade, but he does stop ranting. So much for getting used to slightly more lighthearted Billy. “If it makes you feel any better, I was asleep for most of the time. One of the nurses had to borderline sedate me because I kept trying to pull out my IV and disconnect the heart monitor.”

Instead of finding humor in my admission, the corner of Billy’s mouth turns downwards.

“Why?” Stu asks Billy’s silent question before tacking on something to ease the tension, “This stuff looks important.”

My nose wrinkles. There’s no good way to describe the panic I felt when I woke up here. No way to summarize the need I felt to be anywhere but the hospital. The desire to see Casey and be told that everything was just a bad dream. “Just didn’t want to be here,” I explain weakly, “I didn’t know what was going on and I freaked.”

Stu’s eyebrows draw together. I’m too tired to hide the way I study him. It’s not that he’s never serious (though it is kind of rare), but there’s something strange beneath the way he’s looking at me. His eyes seem dark, tired and emphasized by the bruise forming near the top of his cheek.

Now it’s my turn to frown openly. Slowly, I pull my fingers from his grasp. Stu lets me move my hand towards his face with no reaction until my fingers just barely graze the line of barely formed purple.

He catches my wrist between his pointer finger and thumb, his grip just a little too tight. “You okay, angel?”

The nickname leaves my face a degree or two warmer. Stu grins in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Your face is bruised--what happened?”

“You’re in the hospital and you’re worried about me?” He lets out a breath, demeanor shifting back into something easier.

I roll my eyes, glad that his strange worry is passing. “Shut up.”

His hold on my wrist loosens. Stu twists my hand in order to press a quick kiss to the inside of my wrist, right above my pulse. “Billy and I were going to watch a movie. He threw the tape at me a little too hard when I wasn’t paying attention. Between you and me, I think he did it on purpose.”

Billy sighs, throwing a mean look in Stu’s direction. “I told you I was going to give it to you right before--”

“Yeah, give not throw--”

“You were right next to the VC--”

“Guys.” My interruption isn’t particularly loud, but they both instantly shut up. On a normal night, I really doubt that would have worked. I guess being in the hospital has its perks. “I’ve dealt with enough conflict.”

After a second, Billy concedes, “You’re right.” He squeezes my hand once, eyes softening. “I can’t believe the police questioned you right after you woke up. You must have been so confused,” his thumb runs up and down my knuckles, “Probably still are. You can’t be sure about anything you picked up on.”

An uneasy feeling I can’t name settles in my chest. The police were the ones that insisted on speaking to me as soon as possible, but if I accidentally gave them anything that leads to an inaccurate lead, I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive myself. “It was a man, I know that. I know that I wasn’t confused about that.” That was something I told the officers confidently. The voice on the other line was masculine and distinct and my attacker was too large and tall to likely be a woman. “I didn’t really remember anything else.”

The memories of right before are seared into my mind perfectly. Casey and her polaroid camera, the phone, the popcorn. Or--or was it the other way around? Did I make the popcorn before or after the phone call? Did Casey come in with the movies before or after she took those pictures of me?

What were her last words?

I can’t remember them and for some reason, that makes me feel guilty. He wants to talk to you. That’s when she gave me the phone for the last time. The phone I threw at the killer’s head. Did it hit him? And then she screamed. Wait, no, she clasped her hand over her mouth. She didn’t scream until the glass broke. And then...there was a second scream much later, a much more pained, animalistic sound.

My mouth goes dry. That might have been the last sound Casey ever made. I heard it, but I was too busy trying to escape the killer to pick up on it. Which would mean she was killed while I was being attacked. Which means...

“Hey, don’t think about it too hard. Don’t think about anything too hard, you said it yourself, you hit your head.” Billy’s voice is soft yet assured. He’s right, I know he’s right, and yet I can’t snap out of it.

“I,” my throat aches, a part of me regrets sending away the nurse before she could bring me ice chips, “I think there were two of them.”

The admission is so slow and unsure I instantly feel the need to defend it. “Maybe. I-I mean, I don’t--” I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly all I can see are stars that turn my stomach. The sharp ache in my head is returning. “I didn’t remember before, but now that I’m thinking about it--Casey ran while I was being attacked and I heard her scream. And not just a scared scream, it was the kind of scream that victims in a scary movie let out right before they die. I think what happened to Casey happened while I was still awake. Which would mean there were two of them.”

The two gape at me before glancing at each other. Their silence feels like some kind of reproach that tears at my insides. Stu breaks the quiet with a laugh. A loud, free kind of laugh that’s usually only ever used after the kind of inappropriate joke that earns him some kind of scolding from Tatum.

“You’re cute,” Stu hums with the kind of fondness a parent would use towards a child that proudly declares insanely unrealistic goals. Sure you’ll be the first president in space, here, have a gold star for being so creative. “This isn’t one of those books you read or a project for newspaper. This is about a real murderer that probably got hard watching you try to fight him off of you and finished to the feeling of killing Casey.”

I flinch. A full body, knee jerk reaction that has me pulling both of my hands away from them. Blinking, I cross my arms across my chest. I’m tired and the irritated frustration and embarrassment running through me aren’t making things easier.

The look on my face is probably only making me look more childish. I’m only a grade behind them, but it’s come up before. Only in a semi-joking way after a particularly naive reaction to something. Like the time Stu made a vague sex joke that everyone rolled their eyes at but I missed. Need me to explain it, kid. Stu had said, emphasizing the nickname to further embarrass me before Tatum smacked him in the arm. If she’s a kid, then that was a total pedo move.

Billy punches Stu’s arm again. This time he’s harsher. “You’re an asshole.” Billy then looks at me, expression placid with understanding. “Do you really think there were two of them?”

“I--” Now my already rickety train of thought feels even more unsteady. “I don’t know. It was just a thought. My memory of right before has been kind of iffy.” I scratch the back of my wrist, eyes focused on where my skin meets the plastic of the IV. “But shouldn’t I say something? Just in case? The police said that if I remembered anything a little more I should call.”

“You’re the one in AP Psych--aren’t most serial killers loners?”

The urge to rip off the tape that’s holding the IV in place leaves my fingers itching to do something. I tap my nails against thin hospital sheets. “We don’t talk about that kinda stuff, but yeah, I guess.”

Billy’s gaze flits away from my hands and towards my face. “So that means it’s unlikely for there to be two of them.” That’s a fair point, or at least, a point that’s a lot fairer than Stu’s. “You can say something if you want, but they’re so desperate for leads they questioned you right away. And we both know that police officers aren’t necessarily the most driven.” He’s gently referencing my mother’s boyfriend, who’s a cop and the bane of my existence. Billy and Stu both know exactly how I feel about him. “What if it does more harm than good?”

I frown, letting his words slowly sink in. Maybe if my head felt less sore and my body less far away, I’d be reacting a little more. “Yeah,” I mumble, “I’ll wait, see if it’s something I actually remember or not.”

The corner of Billy’s mouth turns upwards. “Good, would hate to throw off your step-dad.”

My glare is violent, which only fuels his smile. “That man is not my step-father. You know that.”

“Leave her alone, Billy,” Stu mumbles. I turn my head forward, gaze shifting upwards. Stu’s eyes are softer than they’ve been all night. He reaches for me, expression falling when I pull my hand back at the last second. “Aw, baby, don’t be like that.” My hand stays near my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for laughing, I’m sorry for what I said about you and your friend.” I try to glare at him through my lashes, but the look feels like more of a pout than anything. “Don’t give me that look.” He moves his hand again, placing it on my cheek before I can protest. “C’mon, hurting your feelings is like kicking a puppy.”

Some instinct forces me to ease into the contact. Even though my shift is small, Stu picks up on it, because of course he does. My reaction unfortunately encourages him. His thumb gently brushes up and down my cheek. “Then don’t be mean.”

It’s a sad attempt at holding onto my anger, and I’m sure all three people in the room know it. “Promise,” Stu nods, “Anything you want.” I thought he was laying it on thick as some kind of joke, but when I look into his eyes, I don’t see anything that indicates his usual brand of teasing humor. “I’ll even watch one of those lame chick flicks you’re always talking about with the girls.”

A small, awkward noise that’s a hybrid of a scoff and a laugh escapes me. “Clueless may be my guilty pleasure, but it is not lame.”

Stu kind of smiles, but he’s still stiff. “Still. I’ll watch it, whatever you want.” His touch loses all sense of hesitance. “You know I’d-I’d never hurt you. Not really hurt you.”

“Stu.” Billy’s voice comes out a little too heavy, but I can’t look away from Stu.

“I’d never do anything to really hurt you, angel, you know that, right?” There’s something urging about the way he’s speaking. He’s waiting for an answer.

I think of Stu, who I’ve only known for a little while but also forever somehow in a weird way. Stu, who’s always throwing an arm around my shoulders. Stu, who seems to know when I’m getting nervous before I do. Stu, who is always willing to hold my hand or say the wrong thing when I need a laugh. Stu, who’s always touching me but I’ve never thought twice about it until right now because he’s like that with everyone.

Still, though, there’s usually something a little strange about the way his touch feels. More often than not, there’s a tension I don’t understand beneath his fingertips. Like he’s almost always trying to restrain the urge to hold on harder, to squeeze tighter, to keep pushing.

I don’t know what that’s about, but I know that he always stops. That he’s never caused me any real pain. For all I know, he’s just so energetic that he has to constantly remind himself of his own strength. “Yeah, I know, Stu.”

My words are too honest. Something in Stu relaxes and that’s when I realize he wants me to be sure enough for the both of us. It’s an incredibly unfair--and weird--thing to ask for.

Something flickers across Stu’s expression, but it’s quickly replaced by a grin. A genuine one. He leans down, pressing a shocking kiss to my forehead. My gaping doesn’t take away from his enthusiasm. “Does this mean I’m going to actually have to watch that movie?”

“Oh, one hundred percent. No chance of getting out of it. Billy too.”

Billy’s eyebrows draw together. “I didn’t make you any promises.”

I feign a hurt look as best I can, turning my head to better face Billy. “I, your friend, was almost murdered and you can’t put aside your surprisingly good, but let’s admit it, pretentious taste for one movie?” He gives me a hard look, but it lacks any bite. “You know, if the killer comes back for me, you’re going to feel so guilty about saying no.” Billy must feel a little bad for me in some sense because at least he’s letting me continue this rant. “It’ll haunt you--I’ll haunt you.”

He tilts his head downwards, the front strands of his hair falling forward. It’s an attempt to distract from the fact that he almost smiled. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “That was like the least important part of my argument.”

“It was the main part of your argument.” Billy ignores my extremely pointed sigh. “Fine, compromise: a movie I pick, and then after, we can play your movie.”

Biting my tongue, I fight down a grin and force myself to narrow my eyes. “Nothing too gore-y or stab-y.”

“Deal.” He sighs the word like he can’t believe what he’s been conned in to.

The feeling of having enough influence over these two to get them to agree to something like this leaves me beaming. They’re likely going to complain the whole time, but still, it’s the thought that counts. “No take backs, even when I’m out of the hospital.” A subconscious part of my mind begs me to yank out the IV and try to get out of here. “Which should be as soon as my mom gets here.”

My mom and Wells were on a date--a show and a fancy dinner somewhere two towns over. The nurses and police assured me that my mom had been contacted, and that she was doing all she could to get here as soon as possible. But with traffic and the amount of time it took for them to get ahold of her, I’m not surprised that Billy and Stu beat her here. Actually, no, it is a little surprising. We didn’t have plans together that I missed and I’m not sure they’ve ever called me unexpectedly. Who told them I was here?

“How’d you guys know I was here?” The question is just as unexpected to me as it is to them.

“Stu was over when your mom called me,” Billy says, ignoring the way I raise my eyebrows, “She said she still had my number from the time you called me from her phone when we were working on that history project, remember?” I nod, still in disbelief.

Billy has been in my house twice. Both times were to work on the same project. My mom spent both of those times watching him like he was a danger to my entire future. I think in her head she was being subtle, but I can’t blame Billy for noticing.

I give him a semi apologetic look. “You’re making it sound like my mom hates you.” He gives me a look that silently asks if I’m kidding. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“Really?”

“She doesn’t!” I sigh once, my face already feeling warm as I struggle to figure out how to best word my thoughts. “She doesn’t hate you, she just--” Ugh, there’s no non awkward way to say this. "On Halloween, I’m going to be 17. That’s the same age she was when she had me. She just worries and she’s going to keep worrying and giving any guy I’m friends with a hard time until I’m in college.”

Billy pauses, letting the implications of my explanation sink in. With no warning, he pulls the sheets down just enough to expose a bit of my thigh. “So she’s worried that I’m gonna knock you up,” he teases, punctuating the comment by quickly pinching the newly exposed skin.

My face has never been this hot in my life. I laugh, the sound somehow both lighthearted and nervous. “Shut. Up.”

Another rough yet brief pinch to exposed skin leaves me almost jumping out of my skin. I look up at Stu, glaring as he barely attempts to fight down a laugh. “Stu!”

“What? I could knock you up just as easily.”

I let out a sound that’s basically a snort. "That’s such a weird thing to want to be included in.”

Stu half shrugs, placing a hand back on my thigh. Instead of pinching me again or doing something brief, he comfortably moves his hand up and down the expanse of visible skin. “The process would be fun.”

He’s joking, He’s joking. This is Stu--he’s definitely joking. Snap out of it, don’t be weird. I blink, coming to some sort sense. Pulling my legs forward, in an attempt to brush him off, I force myself to meet his gaze. “Fun for you maybe.”

“I’d rock your world, babe.” I’m ready to roll my eyes, but before I can Stu moves his hand, pressing it firmly into my upper thigh. He slides his hand forward, his fingertips digging into the start of my inner thigh. I struggle against the instinctual need to press my thighs together. “You’d be begging to go again before we even finished.”

In all fairness, I should have known better than to challenge one of those kinds of joke coming from Stu. He doesn’t know when to stop and doesn’t feel satisfied until I’m flustered. My brain must be as mushy as it feels, because I find myself digging my heels into the sand. “Pretty sure you’re all talk.”

He tilts his head downwards, eyes darkening. “I’ll prove you wrong right now.” His fingers press even deeper into my skin. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found small, fingerlike bruises on my thigh tomorrow.

“Mhm,” I manage after a long second, “There’s a supply closet in the hallway, give me a second to disconnect from all this and I’ll meet you there.” His expression is too good for me not to laugh. “Relax, I’m messing with you.”

“Haha,” he mumbles dryly, but makes no attempt to move his hand. And for some reason that I’m sure is head trauma or pain killer related, I don’t do anything to get him off of me. “You’re hilarious.”

I poorly suppress another laugh. Stu frowns. Oh my god. There’s no way he’s going to be a baby about this. He’s the one that found a reason to put his hand between my legs and I haven’t smacked him upside the head for it. “Don’t pout. You had to have known I was kidding the entire time.”

“Yeah, if she wanted to go to the supply closet with anyone, it’d be me.” I’m not sure if I’m more surprised by Billy’s comment or the way he says it. He’s much more evidently joking than Stu. The look he gives me after makes that clear.

But there’s still something pointed about the way he said it. Pointed in a way that’s not meant for me. It’s another thing between him and Stu. I know I should make some kind of equally teasing comment just to keep everything normal, but I can’t help but sneak a glance at Stu. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something distinct about the turn of his head. More pressure is added to my thigh. Okay--that’s starting to become uncomfortable.

“Alright,” I finally decide on, forcing a partial laugh into my voice, “We are dangerously close to either a bunch of threesome jokes or another one of those play fights over me.” I grab Stu’s hand by the wrist, moving it off my thigh before relaxing my legs. “And I do not have the energy for either.”

Stu turns his hand over in order to press our palms together. I let him link our fingers. “You brought up threesomes pretty quickly.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“Fantasy or--”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Stuart.”

He holds up his free hand in defense, but he doesn’t have a chance to make some kind of comment.

“Oh my god!” I’d know that panicked gasp anywhere. It’s been the same my entire life. One of my earliest memories includes that exact same shout, a bloody knee, and a tricycle that let me fall off the side walk and onto the (thankfully empty) road.

Mom! “Okay, i know--”

“Don’t you dare try to calm me down!” She reaches me in a flurry of motion that’s so her I can’t help but feel comforted. Stu steps out of the way after a second and my mom closes the distance between us, her fingers gripping the bed’s railing. “Oh my god, a concussion? You could be one of those professional football players--don’t they all have to retire early?”

She presses the back of her palm to my forehead like I might have some kind of fever. I actually wouldn’t be surprised if she demanded the doctors perform more tests on me because something about me didn’t feel right. “Mom, be serious. Since when do you know anything about football?”

Ignoring my response, she moves to cup my cheek. “I am so sorry it took me so long to get here. We were in the theatre when they first called and our cell phones were completely off. Never again.”

There’s so much emotion in her eyes I find myself feeling a lot less calm about everything. “It’s fine, how could you have known?” She’s still staring at me with so much maternal concern. Being so directly motherly is rare in our dynamic. If anything, I’ve spent just as much of my life parenting her as she has raising me. “I slept for most of the time, and when I woke up I had good company.”

At that, my mom looks at Stu, analyzing his appearance. I’m ready to squirm for him. She then shifts her gaze to Billy and I bite my tongue to resist making some kind of joke.

Her lips part and I fight the urge to interject, but then all she says is, “Thank you. I-I couldn’t think of anyone else I could call so late that knew her.”

Billy’s expression is blank, but his silence lets me know that he’s as surprised as me. “No problem,” he finally settles on, “Wouldn’t have wanted her here all alone.”

My mom nods once. She then looks over at Stu, “We haven’t met. I’m Gloria, Y/n’s mom.”

I have spent my entire life dealing with reactions to people finding out my mom is my mom. I love her to death, but I don’t always love the way guys my age react. She’s pretty, I can’t be mad about that, but she’s also young and cool and I’ve had guy friends be super weird about it in the past. And she’s wearing a date night outfit. A dress that’s just a little too short that I’m pretty sure she stole out of my closet.

And I know Stu. I know that he rarely filters through his thoughts before speaking. “I’m Stu,” he says normally, “I was over at Billy’s when you called.”

My mom nods, processing the information before turning her attention back to me. I draw my eyebrows together, giving Stu a look. “Did they run tests on you?”

“Yeah.”

Answering was pointless, she’s already turning towards the hall. My mom waves down some poor, unsuspecting nurse. “You--I’m her mother,” she points back to me, “I want-I want her chart read to me, and I want every single possible test you could run done.” The doctor blinks. “If it’s something that could have been harmed, I want it checked out, I don’t care how unlikely--”

“Ma’am,” the nurse finally says, “I can personally assure that your daughter received excellent care. I worked with her myself and her vitals have been regularly checked. I understand that this is an emotional time, but--”

“If you tell me to calm down, I will sue this entire damn hospital and then find a way to personally sue you.” She takes a breath to prepare for her upcoming war path. “So go get a doctor. Now.”

The nurse’s tired eyes widen before he scurries off. “Mom!” She turns to me, giving me a look that’s barely apologetic. “Relax a little, okay? They ran like a thousand tests on me already. They even said that if you approved, I could leave tonight.”

“No way,” she gasps the words like the thought alone offended her. An instinctual, embarrassing whine escapes me. “Sorry, kid, complain all you want but you’re overnighting it.”

Even though Billy and Stu are literally right here, I pout. “That’s so unfair! When you had complications after getting your appendix out, you signed yourself out even though everyone thought it was a bad idea.”

“Totally different situations and you know it.” I glare at her. “Look, I know I’ve made a point of not doing this too often, but I’m pulling the mom card.” She ignores my frown, “Wells is already making calls and seeing what he can do--and do not roll your eyes, he is not some ‘monster that’s trying to ruin your life’.”

“I only called him that once,” I mumble petulantly. “And you’re in my dress.” It’s a stupid thing to point out, but she’s being completely unreasonable.

“You left home this morning in my skirt.” Ugh, why does she always have to have some kind of point? “I’m going to tell Wells that we’re staying.”

Leaving no room for argument, my mom turns on her heels and leaves the room. Once it’s just the three of us again, an unfamiliar shyness rises up my chest. I know feeling awkward is such a small thing compared to everything else, but Billy and Stu are definitely thinking and analyzing that entire interaction. Their silence is starting to unease me.

“Okay guys,” I say, eyes focused on the hands in my lap, “Let it out. I know you’ve got some kinda rea—“

“Your mom is hot!” These kinds of reactions aren’t unfamiliar to me, but from Stu, it kind of bugs me more than I thought it would. I don’t know why--I mean, he’s the exact kind of person to react like that. “I totally see where you get it from, babe. Amazing genes.”

My eyes widen, “Stu, I get your sense of humor, but my mom doesn’t.” I drop my voice as I whisper, “Cool it with the nicknames as long as she’s in the same building.”

“So now you’re embarrassed of me? I’m not good enough to bring home to mom?”

I might kill him. “I’m serious--try anything and I. Will. End. You.”

“You threatening me is really getting me going.”

Rolling my eyes, I don’t even bother replying to that comment. I then turn towards Billy, who seems a little too amused by all of this. “I feel a little better about you, but same rules apply.”

Stu gives me a particularly hurt look. “Him you trust?”

“He’s met her before!”

With a sigh, I sink further into the hospital bed. They’re both being quiet. Stu made a comment about my mom, but I honestly expected more. I was mentally preparing myself for jokes about me being a mama’s girl or a little kid. Stu’s expression is something I don’t understand and Billy isn’t looking at me. He’s staring ahead, face stoic. He’s somewhere else now.

“Billy?” My voice is soft, hesitant.

He blinks, the corner of his mouth pulling downwards as his head turns. “Yeah?” His voice reveals nothing.

I didn’t think ahead enough to have a question to ask him. He doesn’t seem like the type to want anyone noting his feelings. “You okay?” I regret my awkward phrasing instantly. “You um...for a second looked kinda,” my noise wrinkles as I struggle to think of the right word that won’t offend him, “Wistful almost?”

He side eyes me and I can’t even blame him. “I look wistful?”

Billy nearly smiles at the look on my face. That alone makes my embarrassment worth it. “I said looked--past tense.”

“Mhm,” he hums, eyes a little darker than before. I don’t break his stare until the sound of footsteps entering the room becomes impossible to ignore. A nurse has entered the room, likely due to my mother’s insistence. “It looks like you’re going to be busy, Stu and I should go.”

Oh. I don’t know why that makes my heart sink the way it does. It’s logical--my mom’s here now and she’s going to force them to scan me with every single machine in this hospital. Maybe it’s because they calmed me down or maybe it’s because they’re the first familiar faces I saw, but the thought of them leaving bothers me.

Stu squeezes my shoulder, his fingers lingering as he pulls away. “Yeah, babe, you don’t need us around while they poke and prod you.”

The description of what I’m going to be doing makes me frown. They’re approaching the doorway. “Guys,” my voice surprises me. They both turn to look at me, and once again, I don’t know what I want to say. Do I want to ask them to stay? There’s no way that’s normal. My mom’s here--it wouldn’t work out anyways. “Thank you,” I mumble, “Thanks for coming and staying with me and making sure I didn’t have a complete meltdown. I appreciate it.”

Billy’s looking at me in that way that makes me want to shrink into myself. Not that there’s anything particularly wrong or uncomfortable about the way he’s staring, it just feels so sharp and analytical. “Anytime, angel.”

“Yeah, couldn’t leave you here all alone,” Stu says, “Call me when you get out, okay?”

I nod, smiling a bit. “Duh--don’t think I’m going to forget about the movie promise you made me, and you can’t back out because hospital bed promises are like way more serious than regular promises.”

Billy throws me a look I can only think to describe as ‘bitchy’ and Stu rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” Stu mumbles, “Take advantage.”

They manage to leave me grinning as they disappear out of the doorway. I don’t know what it is about them, but they always manage to make me feel...safe, I guess. I can’t remember the last time anyone made me feel like that.

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream imagine #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader

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thepaintedsable · 6 months

Text

Uh oh, who let me into a fandom again? Who left the niche within a niche door open??? Y’all should know better.

@sm-baby’s Carnival AU for The Amazing Digital Circus grabbed me by the bootstraps with??? Inspiration??? Not only have I dodged most fandoms and the motivation to draw fanart (not that I don’t want to show support; just no ideas in the noggin), but I genuinely don’t think I’ve sat down and put a non-ironic, genuine OC for a media I like on paper since my Warrior Cats/Creepypasta era. This AU didn’t just get me to sit down and make an OC that fits with the original media, but one that fits with their derivative. I saw other people doing it and it looked like so much fuunnn.

First, have standard TADC version! Either that or a player.

This is Tuus! They’re mainly based on the beanie baby dragon to fit that sweet sweet 90s theme, but generally a mixture of beloved childhood toys I have sitting on my shelf. She’s scruffy, worn, and kinda dirty looking and that’s on purpose. She’s bottom heavy, and I wanted her wings to give off the texture of that basically-plastic shiny fabric you used to see on a lot of toys.

No mouth, but a randomly appearing lizard tongue. For fun.

Tuus deals with the circus by sleeping. A lot. Too much. If you don’t need to sleep, then you don’t need to be awake. If she’s doing to be trapped in a digital hell, she might as well be catching up on her naps. And she will sleep in the worst places. Time for a digital feast? She’s on the table. Caine wants to have an adventure in the lake? Girl is at the bottom. Sleeping with the fishes fr fr. And you need to find her one day? Nowhere to be seen, probably on the roof.

It’s playing on the whole big, lazy, sleeping dragon thing that used to be in a lot of children stories I remember. But also how well loved childhood toys seem to pop up and disappear, there when you aren’t looking but gone when you are. Her name also means “Your” or “Thy.” Your dragon.

BUT AT THE CARNIVAL?

What amusement park is complete without a gift shop? What game doesn’t have a place to buy goofy digital goods? Tuus is the big lady in charge of the gift place of the Carnival! Her room is what should have been a shop of sorts, to buy whatever products that darned company would have tried to push. Cosmetics, virtual toys, digital snacks, whatever. But, uh, I don’t think anyone told them dragons don’t like to…. share. Becoming sentient did wonders for the attitude. You should be just fine if you don’t make too much noise, though! She’s a lazy lizard, and often sleeps sprawled around the place. I imagine the level would be set up like a maze, or a labyrinth. Isles and isles of things, with peaks of a tail or smoke every now and again. Toys, clothing, and even random things that shouldn’t be in there just trash the path. It’s your job not to step on anything! It’s different each time, though (a speed runner’s nightmare). One level you might get lucky and have a straight shot with a sleeping dragon, the next there might be so many things it’s physically impossible to reach any exit at all. Potentially can get out of trouble with some digital coin™, but you’ll have to have found enough hidden in the room to forgive each “damaged item.”

Here she is much, MUCH larger and far cleaner. An oversized display never meant to be bought. A collectors item far too expensive for a child. Think “I used to be a beloved toy and now I’ve been forgotten, even forgetting myself, and this is how I cope” favor VS “I have never known the touch of a person and have been trapped on this shelf only to be abandoned and have the personality of an unsocialized dog” flavor.

She has no mouth, but she bites.

I want to draw more of her :) She’s a goof.

#traditional art #art #oc #sketchbook #dragon #Watercolor #the amazing digital circus #The amazing digital carnival #carnival au #TADC OC #TADC AU #The amazing digital carnival OC #The amazing digital circus OC #TADC sona kinda maybe sorta

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why-am-i-here-someone-save-me · 2 years

Text

@reinbouxsworld I DID THE THING! THE THING I ASKED ABOUT! I DID IT! WHOOOOO!!! HOLY SHIT THAT TOOK A LONG TIME IM GONNA GO PASS OUT NOW (also plz tell me what you think about it because i genuinely really really want to know 🥺)

also this is like literally my first time writing for the twst fandom so like have mercy with me y’all-

@chiaraghia You introduced me to this game and I blame you entirely for this new hyperfixation 😤 thank you bby

This fic is inspired by this glorious post by the amazing @reinbouxsworld

Of Darkness & Dreams

You struggled to keep yourself steady, adrenaline threatening to expose your uneasiness at your situation. Considering who was in front of you, that would most certainly be a bad move. It was almost surreal. You’d never been afraid of him before, but now…

Now you were beginning to understand why his reputation was so intimidating. Now you were starting to grasp why so many people were nervous about him.

“Malleus I-” Your words were cut off by the fae holding a finger to your lips, an indecipherable expression in his eyes. You were… honestly not sure how to feel about this.

On one hand this was Malleus, your friend, arguably your best friend! You cared about him deeply, and well… You had assumed he cared for you as well.

This pressure though… This was nothing like the Malleus you knew. This was new. This was different. This was… frightening.

This wasn’t Malleus, your best friend.

This wasn’t Malleus who would excitedly talk about gargoyles with you.

This wasn’t the Malleus that you had fallen for.

This was Malleus Draconia.

This was the Thorn Prince.

“You’re shivering… Are you cold [Name]?” He wasn’t wrong, you were indeed shivering. Not of chilliness, but rather of fright. You were afraid of the person in front of you. You were afraid but yet… You still loved him. As frightening as he is at the moment, you loved him. You loved Malleus.

“No, that’s not it is it..?” The fae’s eyes widened slightly in realization. “You are afraid… [Name] you aren’t… Y-You aren’t afraid of me, right?” If you weren’t as close to him as you are, you wouldn’t have noticed the way that Malleus’ voice trembled. He looked as though you’d just told him you hated him, hurt and betrayal swirling in his green eyes. You wanted to reassure him that you loved him, that you cared about him deeply, even if you were a little bit on edge at the moment. You swallowed thickly and opened your mouth to deny the fact that you were scared, but the words died in your throat as you locked gazes with him. His expression sharpened slightly, and when he next spoke, his words were steely, harsher than any words you’d ever heard from Malleus before.

“[Name]. Answer me. Do you fear me?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand. It was an order.

You found the words pouring out from your lips without your input, complying with the fae’s instruction without any regard to your own volitions. “…I am afraid Malleus. You are frightening me. I don’t want to be afraid of you. I care for you, b-but I’m afraid. I-I’m sorry…”

Malleus looked as though you had just stabbed him through his heart, betrayal readily apparent in his features. He turned away from you, releasing you from his arms. Instinctively you reached out for him, trying to comfort him, but you froze when the fae practically snarled at you. “Don’t.” You flinched back, your body ignoring your orders to hug the distressed fae. You stood there trembling, unsure how to rectify the situation.

“……I thought you were different than the others [Name]. You treated me like… like a normal person. You accepted me as I was and I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you and I loved you!!!”

You’d never heard him so furious. But almost as quickly as it came Malleus’ fury fizzled out, his fit of rage seemingly having passed.

The amount of pressure in the air told you otherwise.

“…No. No I refuse to accept this… Am I not good enough for you [Name]? Is that it?”

You blinked a few times in shock. Good enough? Malleus? Was he joking? No, no he wouldn’t be this erratic if it were a joke. “Not good enough? Malleus that’s… That’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard-” He cut you off before you could finish. “You aren’t denying it. So that’s it then, isn’t it?”

Before you could retort you register a soft sound, which seemed deafening due to the previous silence.

plip.

plip plip.

plip plip plip.

A bitter, acrid smell suddenly reached you, causing your eyes to water. It was one you were far more familiar with than you’d have liked. You instinctively stumbled back a bit, knowing what was happening yet unable to prevent it from unfolding. Your stomach twisted uneasily, queasy at the memories associated with the all to familiar stench. You already knew what it was.

Blot.

“M-Malleus wait c-calm down please, d-don’t let go of yourself. F-Focus Malleus focus! Y-You’ve got to calm down, p-please calm down-” Your words were interrupted by a small gasp of surprise, as in the blink of an eye Malleus had turned to face you once again, tilting your face towards him with a gentle touch. You shuddered involuntarily.

Malleus’ beautiful green eyes were locked onto you, yet seemed unfocused despite the intensity of his gaze. Just as you had dreaded, an oily black color was bleeding down your dearest friend’s face, staining it with the same pitch black darkness that you’d seen so many of your other friends succumb to. Already it was dripping to the floor, the stench so potent it left your head spinning.

“M-Malleus y-you-” Once more he held a finger to your lips, quieting your protests. The vacant look in his eyes was gone, leaving in its place the presence of wistfulness and longing in its place. “Shhh… No need for words right now my dearest Child of Man. There will be a time for that later.”

The fae cradled your face in his hands, lime green eyes literally glowing with both emotion and magic. “For now my love-” A flicker of brilliant green fire danced in front of your eyes, stealing your attention. You wanted to look away, you knew you needed to look away, yet you couldn’t tear your eyes from the flame’s emerald light.

“-Here, a gift from me…”

The fire vanished, freeing you from the trance it had placed you in. Confusion filled you, only to give way to realization moments later, and turned to despair seconds after.

You felt sleepy.

You shouldn’t be, you’re terrified right now, adrenaline should be keeping you alert and wide awake. You know its Malleus. You know he’s behind this. But the dullness that was washing over your senses didn’t abide by your logic, and the exhaustion that had begun to dawn on your body cared little for your rationale. Your eyelids began to droop, even as you mumbled words of protest.

“…N-No Malleus p-please… I d-don’t wa-want to… sl-sleep… st-stop pl-please st-stop…”

The prince merely chuckled a small bit in response to your drowsy pleas, smiling down at you as you began to fall into his arms, to exhausted to hold yourself up any longer.

“There is no need to be afraid.”

The world around you began to grow dark and blurry, sounds fading in and out and colors spinning and swirling together like an artist mixing a new hue.

“A thousand years will feel like a dream; And I will give you a real happy ending…”

Your eyes finally closed as you succumbed to the spell, breathing slowing down as the thorny tendrils of cursed sleep ensnared your psyche.

“Sleep well my love…”

#it’s official yall #im officially a twst simp #fml #anyways new hyperfixation go brr #malleus is like. jfc.#criminally beautiful #luci writes #twst malleus #twst x reader #malleus x reader #overblot malleus #overblot #overblot x reader #yandere undertones

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thatbanditqueen · 11 months

Text

Basic Training

I Don't Date Soldiers

A new fic, possibly a new WIP, about Elvis' life at Fort Hood. Let me know what you think.

Summary: Bess is a smart, young secretary working for the Commander of Army Intelligence training at Fort Hood, dreaming of a life beyond the military one she has always known. That's why she doesn't date soldiers, they only break your heart, and she is looking ahead to something better. One Friday night in March, she stumbles in to the new draftee who's turned the base upside down, and in a moment of weakness, decides to try and help him sleep. Just this once.

Warnings: None, fluffy and angst combined, but innocent. For now. There are a lot of typos.

Word Count: 4.8 K

Some notes: Probably good to know the acronyms, every Army base has a chain of command, and at the top sit the Commanding Officer (CO), the Executive Officer (XO), and a bunch of other officers, of different rank denoted by their ascending O rank, from 1 to 10. WAC - Women's Army Corps, established in WWII, their was a sizeable WAC presence at Fort Hood in 1958. Oh, and Killeen is the closest city to Fort Hood and Austin, TX is about an hour away. Also I really wanted this to take place on a Friday night, but also have had Elvis at the base for two nights, so I gave myself creative license to make March 30, 1958 a Friday. Just don't look it up and we'll be fine.

This fic was inspired by the writing prompt:

Many thanks to my beautiful sister-wives-in-arms whose advice support and love make being an Elvis girl possible and fun, @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @ellie-24 @powerofelvis @missmaywemeetagain and @whositmcwhatsit, from whom I have stolen her trademarked description of Elvis' awkward manner of kissing half on the cheek half on the lips like a goofy weirdo who was never taught how to kiss right so he decided to make up his own style. And thanks for reading and connecting with me here, the Elvis fandom is the best and I love our community!

Friday, March 30, 1958

9 p.m. at Sal's Cafe

Bess pushed her veal marsala from one side of her plate to the other, feeling the vibrations of her fork scrape across the bottom of the plate. The place checked off all the requisite Italian restaurant requirements: checkered table cloth, candle in an old wine bottle, violin player sawing away at a classical reinterpretation of “That’s Amore.” But the brown sauce, and the meat it was congealing around, was inedible. It was the sort of food that begged the question “why not stay in and cook at home?”

“I said, don’t you think, Bess honey? You follow that stuff, dontcha?”

Bess looked up at her friend Dori’s face, realizing she had drifted off daydreaming of a future far away from Killeen, away from her job at Fort Hood, away from the Army, away from officers, like the ones sitting across from them. Away from soldiers in general.

“What, Khrushchev? Well, I think we all knew he wasn’t going to take the threat laying down.”

Dori hit Bess' shoulder lightly, smiling at their dates, two officers from Army Intelligence.

“No, y’all will havta excuse my friend here, she still thinks she’s studying political science in Austin. You’d think a year of civilian life would make her normal again, huh?”

Dori flipped her blonde hair and drawled on.

“No, silly goose, no one here is interested in that Russian stuff, we’re talking about Mike Todd. What do you think poor Elizabeth Taylor is going to do now that her husband's dead?”

Bess tried very hard not to roll her eyes. Dori was right, she read the movie gossip magazines, but her friend’s distraught, serious expression had made her think they were discussing something with a little more gravitas. The recent atomic weapons testing, or Russian political shifts, the stuff at the top of her New York Times front page everyday. But why would any one in the Army want to talk about that?

Bess smiled at her date and tried to focus on the conversation at hand. Later in the bathroom, Dori chided her while applying a fresh coat of lipstick onto Bess’ mouth.

“I wish you would try to be polite.”

“Dori, you know I am breaking my rule here with you. I don’t date soldiers. I have two goals I'm focusing on: get into law school and shake off these twenty pounds. ”

Bess rubbed her hands over her waist.

“Rules were made to be broken, Bessie Pie, and you look great, men like a girl with a jiggle, I think you look like a brunette Jayne Mansfield.”

“Hardly. You’re Mansfield and Monroe rolled into one.”

“Don't sell yourself short. I know you were fixin' to marry that boy last year, and now all you talk about is law school this, politics that. Don’t you wanna get married? We're not getting any younger.”

“I’m twenty three. Same as you.”

“Eggg zactly. Sure, it seems young now, but you're gonna blink and be thirty and single, with nothing but your degrees to keep you company. You already have a good job now. I just know you’d set this law school thing aside if you met the right guy.”

“Of course I wanna get married, someday. But not now. You’re the one in a hurry to quit your job and settle down, not me.”

“I don’t have a job.”

“See, you’re half way there, Doreen. Me, I’m not giving up my goals for Captain Smarmy out there. How did you even meet these ones?”

Dori steadied her self on Bess’ shoulder.

“Stop moving, or this lipstick won’t be straight. I met them outside the PX, I thought they were cute. Arnie knew who you were, he was the one who suggested we all go out. He really likes you, I can tell - “

“Yeah, he was just in my pop's office lobbying for an assignment, he doesn’t like me. He is using me. There’s a difference, I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

“So what if he was? Maybe he saw you there and couldn’t get you out of his mind. He’s good looking, smart, he’s already an O3 —”

Bess stopped her friend’s hand, and fixed her hair in the mirror, pushing up her bust and sighing at the rounder curves that had been widening at her waist since she’d graduated from college and settled into a very sedentary, very single, and currently very celibate life living back at home and working for her father. She turned to look at Dori who was waiting to blot Bess' lips with a tissue like the sweet girl she always had been. For Dori, a fresh coat of perfectly applied lipstick fixed all of life’s problems.

“Look, Captain whatever out there is only here for six months or so for training, then he's off to Heidelberg. That’s why I don’t date soldiers anymore. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’m waiting for you to catch up.”

Bess gave her dark curls one last fluff.

“How’d you get these suckers to come out on a double date anyway? They aren’t scared of your father?”

Dori avoided eye contact as she smoothed her blonde bouffant and pursed her lips, then looked at Bess in the mirror.

“They don’t know.”

“How do they not know your father is the CO?”

Dori shrugged, then pinched Bess as they walked out of the ladies’ room.

“Don’t tell, ok? Let’s just have fun. What if you fall madly in Arnie? And he asked you to marry him and go to Germany with him?”

Bess snorted as they walked out to the men waiting for them in the restaurant lobby and Dori's eyes took on a knowing look.

“Hmm, so that’s big fat ol ‘no’ to dancing tonight, I’m guessin’?”

Bess nodded.

“Please at least tell me you aren’t going home to work on that boring research project?”

Bess smiled mischievously. “Professor Blotke agreed to help me, it’s going to be my submission sample for Georgetown. Papa took Mama to D.C. with him for his meetings, so I have the house practically to myself. It's just Kay and me, and she’s probably already asleep. I just have to grab a new typewriter back on post, I busted mine.”

Dori shook her disapproving of Bess’ plans for the night, then turned to greet their escorts with her usual vivacious pleasantries. Bess smiled at Dori's ability to interact with the men so casually and intimately, sliding her hands through both of officer's arms as they walked to the car. She considered how different she was from her girlfriend, despite the fact that they were both twenty three year old daughters of career Army officers. Every relationship she'd been in seemed to occur in spite of her inability to feel at ease or flirt with boys.

The conversation turned to recent events at Fort Hood as they walked.

“So,” Dori exhaled, squeezing herself against her date. “Has anyone seen Elvis yet?”

Bess pounded her foot a little harder into the concrete, hearing that name now provoked instant irritation.

“Ughh, no. It’s only been what, three days, and honestly I wish he’d been sent somewhere else for training. All I do is answer calls about him. It is driving me up the wall and I can’t get anything done. He’s turned the whole base upside down. Must have been a hundred cars parked outside the main gate, all scattered around the fields. It’s a security issue. I just —"

“Well, that’s not his fault Bess, and I think it's great. I wanna to meet him, don’t y’all?” Dori looked at the officers on her arms.

Arnie smiled a big dumb smile as he looked at Dori’s bouncing breasts and agreed. “I think it’s good for the Army, boy, I just - I just wish we could get the other enlisted to lay off him.”

“What do you mean?”

Bess felt the pit of her stomach tense as she thought of the thousands of green little boys running around base on edge with no external distractions for entertainment.

“Yeah, the boys’ have been giving him a hard time, shouting out when he runs during PT, or at the chow hall. There’s some concern he hasn’t been coming to eat all his meals cuz a the way they’ve been taunting him.”

Bess sighed, her irritation dissipating momentarily into sympathy as she considered how hungry and lonely Elvis Presley must be. Then she remembered that she was hungry, hungry because all the good restaurants had been filled up tonight by people trying to catch a glimpse of him. Elvis was the reason the only benefit from breaking her vow against dating a soldier, the free meal, had been a bust. She wondered if it was going to be this crazy around town for the next six months while he was here.

“I feel sorry for the poor kid, I do. But I still wish he was some other base’s problem.”

***********************************************************

Back on post, Arnie asked Bess for the fourth time if she wouldn’t like him to come help her carry the typewriter to her car. Then they could meet the others at the night club.

Beth pursed her lips with a demure smile. “I think I can handle a typewriter, Captain, I use them all day.”

Dori chimed in with a reminder that it was Friday night and they were only young once, but Bess put them off, grinning as she heard Dori exclaim that both men would just have to dance with her all night.

“Two gorgeous officers all to myself, what eva shall I do?”

Free at last, Bess drove her car to the supply building, and snuck in the back door carrying the type writer that she had been using at home, the big sticker along the bottom reading “Property of U.S. Army” evident as she held the machine under her arm to unlock the door. Bess slipped off her heels at the door so that they didn’t click down the dark hallways, and she easily scurried in to slip the broken machine into the repair center and help herself to a new model, grabbing a few spools of typewriter ribbon and a package of paper on the way out. Balancing everything as she locked up to leave, Bess smiled at the cool air on her sweaty arm pits and laughed to herself for pulling this stealth operation in a tight green cocktail dress and pumps.

“A better use of this outfit anyway, I’d say.” She muttered to herself, sheathing her right foot back into her white heel with a sense of pride that she’d managed to get in, get the new machine, and would probably be home before 11 p.m. Bess had propped her self up against the building to slip her left foot into the other shoe when she heard a voice behind her call out.

“Uh, hey, need any help there?”

Startled, she almost toppled over, catching herself at the last moment by dropping everything in her hands.

“OWW fuck fuck fuck a duck!

She screamed in pain as the typewriter clanged down on her bare left foot and she almost knocked heads with the tall, gangly soldier who squatted down on front of her at the same time to try and help her retrieve her supplies.

"Oh man, I sure am sorry, listen -"

“At ease, uh Private,” she glanced briefly at the rank on his uniform while straightening up, holding her foot in pain and taking in the view below her. The paper knob at the top of the new machine had broken off completely.

“Fuck, this is what I get, I suppose,” she laughed, looking up find herself across from the shy, inquisitive face of Elvis Presley.

“Oh fuck a duuuuuck.”

Bess forgot about the typewriter, the paper spilled everywhere, the throbbing pain in the left foot she was now holding up and cradling. She didn’t even notice how she was exposing her thighs until she rubbed her foot again and dropped it with a thud, realizing she was about to flash Elvis Presley. He seemed to realize it too, and smirked as he turned his face to look away as some sort of attempt to give her privacy while she smoothed her dress down. Bess did this while clumsily trying to balance between one heeled foot and one bare foot.

Elvis found it very hard to stifle his chuckles as he watched her stiffen, and held out his hand to put her at ease.

“Uh, hey there ma’am, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley.”

Bess shifted and smiled awkwardly, wiping her dirty, sweaty hands on her silk dress and extending her right hand out to shake his. The the same right hand, that had, moments ago, been rubbing her smelly, left foot. Honestly, it seemed like the most polite option, since she decided to act as if the last five minutes hadn’t happened. As if sneaking out of the supply building past 10 p.m. on a Friday night with her arms full of government office supplies was perfectly normal.

“Bess Schwartz, I’m, uh, I work in the Front Office here. I’m, I’m, I'm the secretary for the Army Intelligence Commander.”

She gasped when Elvis took her hand, the hand cover in her foot sweat, and squeezed it warmly, bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss.

“Nice ta, uh, meetcha. Imma sorry, uh, for startlin’ ya Miss Schwartz, ma’am.”

Bess shivered in the darkness as she heard herself whisper for him to call her Bess almost incoherently while she watched Elvis drop down in front of her and fit her other white pump over her left foot. She tried to remember how to breath. It was hard. Hard because she was struggling to subdue her visceral reaction to Elvis' thumb as it slowly smoothed over the top of her foot, which made it harder still to recover from the embarrassment of getting caught stealing a typewriter. By the most famous person in the world. Bess shut her eyes in disbelief that this was actually happening, and was disappointed when she lifted her eyelids to find that it actually was happening and Elvis was still there. He met her eyes, his finger delicately stroking her ankle.

“There, now, honey, you think you can walk?”

She pulled her leg back and nodded as she scanned the parking lot, the road along and other buildings behind it.

“Mhmm. Thank you, Private. Say, what are you doing stalking around the base right now? Lights out is at 9.”

Elvis bit his lip, looking at the ground as he stood.

“Can’t sleep.”

Bess arched her eyebrow as she started to bend, but Elvis put his hand up to stop her and stooped to gather the paper. He crushed it under his arm as he grabbed the typewriter and ink ribbons, talking slowly and deliberately.

“Well, my first night some jokers went an put shaving cream in my shoes, I ‘spose it gave em a good laugh to watch me run around like a damn fool getting ready for inspection. An well, I ain’t been able to sleep since, can’t bare to, uh, to uh - ”

His voice trailed off, but Bess knew what he meant. He was afraid of looking like poor sport or tattle tale if he complained, and a coward if he just took it. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the bags under his eyes, calculating he must be going on 40 hours without much sleep. Or much food either, if her date was to be believed. Men. Boys, more like. Little boys amusing them selves by torturing this poor kid. This, tall, lanky, kid, who hovered above her and whose large hands made her typewriter ribbon look like a checker piece.

“Yeah, uh, they’re just scared they won’t be able to get any tail now that your here.” She smiled as best she could under the pressure of trying to talk with Elvis smoldering, lonely boy eyes piercing through her.

Bess looked at a passing car just so she could collect herself, then back at Elvis, thinking of the crowds of women lining the gates.

“The men should be thanking you, we haven’t seen this many pretty girls hanging around the base, since, well, since ever. Probably gonna be easy picking, especially for the soldiers who can leave post. Those poor girls hanging 'round outside the gates don’t know you aren’t allowed to go near ‘em for the next three or so weeks.”

“Mhmm, seems like, uh, uh, ya don’t havta go off post to meet pretty girls.”

Elvis bit his lip again, enjoying how Bess became flustered and embarrassed, smoothing the sides of her dress. She reminded herself that she hated him, as she felt the butterflies swarm through her belly and make themselves at home, flitting willy nilly up her spine. Bess also became keenly aware of how hungry she was from skipping dinner. She didn’t have time for his teasing and looked Elvis squarely in the eyes as she spoke.

“I recommend staying away from them, too. Especially the WACs. You’re definitely not supposed to fraternize with other soldiers.”

Elvis looked off at the trees that lined the road to the right. “How bought civilians? Is, um, ah, frater-a-nizin', uh, allowed?”

Bess turned, ignoring the question, though she was unable to ignore the warm, playful flirtation in Elvis’ voice as it washed over her and her chest heaved up and down at a quicker pace. Once again she told herself that she did, indeed, know how to breath. Her annoyance at his line melted away when she returned to his eyes and saw the exhaustion underneath his bravado, instantly regretting what she was about to do before she even did it. Somehow she couldn’t help herself, it was as if she was having an out-of-body experience, watching herself fumble through a simple sentence.

“Listen, I, um, I just had the worst date of my life, at the worst restaurant. Couldn’t eat a bite. You help me get another type writer, and I’ll, I’ll fix us something to eat. Then you can sleep on my couch for a few hours.”

Watching his eyes light up, Bess felt the need to add. “But no funny business. I’m just helping out a new recruit, doesn’t mean anything.”

For the second time that night, Bess oversaw sneaking a broken typewriter into the repair shop and taking a new one, hobbling as she led Elvis to her car and directed him to put the stuff in her truck.

“Ya live on post?”

Bess patted the passenger seat of her blue Ford.

“Nope.”

“You know I ain’t supposed to leave?”

“Yup.”

“So — what’s the plan, stan?”

Bess turned to Elvis, removing his hand from her knee where it had somehow landed, and whispered with breathy excitement.

“I’m going to sneak you off.”

Elvis quirked his eyebrows as she kept talking.

“I, um, well, I share an office with the CO's secretary, Mabel. Who might actually be the most powerful person at this command. So, as long as I get you back in time for reveille, we’ll be fine. None of these guys will mess with me.”

“I, uh, I don’ wan no special privileges, I wanna, uh, be treated like any other man, any other soldier. I reckon I better -”

Elvis trembled when Bess touched his shoulder and rubbed it gently, looking up into his face with her big brown eyes, now tender and reassuring. He looked to her like he might cry as he spoke of not being special.

“Look, I would do this for any new recruit. Boot camp, uh. Well. This is the hardest part of being in the Army. I promise. I’m not offering because you’re famous. I actually kind of hate you, do you know how much trouble you cause my office? So, you should know I’m helping you in spite of who you are. Promise. I would - I would do it for any soldier in your predicament.”

Bess said this firmly to convince herself as much as to convince Elvis. Then she added a friendly wink and drove off, enjoying Elvis’ bemused smile and telling herself not to worry. Underneath her calm, confidence was the nagging thought that, unlike Elvis, Bess knew exactly what happened if some rule-minded officer were to find out that she had snuck Elvis off post. She had a good understanding of rule-minded officers. Like her father. Who, thankfully, was out of town.

******************************

The bacon and eggs sizzled on the stove and Bess flipped them, shyly avoiding Elvis’ gaze from where he was leaning with his back arched against the door jab, his right hip twisted up and his thumbs hanging from his belt loops as he watching her cook.

“So, uh, what’s a secretary doing taking typewriters uh, um, out late on a Friday night an a bringin' ‘em home for, huh?”

Bess shook her head into the frying pan, then met his gaze.

“I , um, I happen to have some very important work I need to do from home. For the General I work for. That’s, uh, why I have a master key.”

“Uh huh.” Elvis’ smirked, nodding his chin as he stuck his hands slowly under his armpits, and lifted one knee up to lean back further against the wall.

“Hand me your plate, dinner is ready.”

Elvis bounced off the doorway and strode slowly over to where Bess stood at the stove, his long arms dangling loosely at his side. He had become more relaxed and confident once they got to her house, after tearing up a bit in the car and telling her how much he missed his parents and home and how he didn’t have any idea what Germany would be like. He had then muttered on about how millions of guys have been through this, so he knew he’d be alright, though the tear dripping down his cheek made Bess think he believed the exact opposite. Now he was behind her, almost a different person, cocky and teasing as his strong arms snaked around her waist to steady her hands.

“Nah, see how the egg is still all jiggly wiggly, Bessie? S’not done, not nearly. Wanna get the bacon good and browned up, so’s there ain’t no more pink left.”

She flushed at the way his breath hit her neck while his words softly compelled her to make his food the way he liked it. The rumble of his voice as her nickname rolled off his tongue was an assault on her sense of decency, and she let his hands linger at her waist for another beat before lifting them off and assuring him that she understood.No jiggly wiggly, no pink. Black. That she learned, was how Elvis liked everything, and everything was what she gave him, as he ate the pound and a half of bacon om her fridge and her last six eggs.

Bess mused that sneaking a fatigued Elvis off post and filling him full of food must be what made him clingy, comfortable and forward when he put his arms around her as she led him upstairs to the guest room. Rubbing his eyes as he plopped on the bed, Elvis grabbed her wrist imploringly and begged her not to leave him all lonesome in a strange house, in a strange town, where she was the only nice 'lil gal to treat him like a real human bean. Sighing, Bess sat at the top of the bed and let Elvis lay his head in her lap, where she stroked his forehead, and, at his request, started to tell him her life story. He had passed out after five minutes, when she had barely finished detailing how her parents met at Coney Island in 1932, three years before she was born.

Elvis' eye lids fluttered closed and he mumbled, “That’s a when I was borned. Aww, Bessie boo, we musta been babies at the same time.”

Bess groaned as she couldn’t seem to pull herself away from him, and stayed there with his head in her lap for another twenty minutes, afraid if she rolled it off her lap she would wake him. She was cupping the back of his head to gently move it off her lap when he thrashed around and called out the name Satnin. This led Bess to give up and lean against the head board, reconciling herself to a night sleeping sitting up with the most famous rebellious heart throb soldier in the world calling out for his mama in her lap.

Elvis’ hands moved first at the sound of the alarm, roving over Bess tummy and breasts before he opened his eyes to the smacks of her hand hitting him off her. Somehow she had been pulled down into his arms over the course of the night, and she jumped up, commanding him to get his boots on while she ran down stairs and made some coffee. She prayed her younger sister hadn’t heard the alarm. Still wearing the dress from the night before, Bess watched Elvis gulp down his black coffee and chomp down the bread and cheese she had thrown at him to eat in the car. Loudly. With an open mouth. Wiping the crumbs from his mouth, he put his arm around her and squeezed.

Despite sleeping in his arms, Bess felt a shock and jolted at his touch.

“Just so we’re clear, Mister, uh, Private um Presley, uh, this was just a friendly, patriotic gesture. I wasn’t, uh um, trying to seduce you.”

Elvis arched his eyebrow, his expression one of amusement and incredulity at the idea Bess thought of her behavior seductive. The way she had hesitated spitting out the word ’seduce’ so earnestly was adorable and endearing.

“OK, honey, you’re the boss, jus do me a favor and call me Elvis, huh?”

She nodded, eyes forward in concentration as she felt him squeeze her shoulders even tighter. She left it there, and found herself relaxing and leaning back into him after a few minutes with a sigh. She couldn't help it, it was an instinctive response to the way his fingers widened and began to tap out a rhythm on the side of her arm. Everything felt good, and their two bodies melded together in the dusky morning twilight for a spell until a gate came into view and Bess jerked up to throw Elvis’ arm onto the car seat with a smack, not noticing how he, too, stiffened with trepidation.

She stopped around the block from Elvis’ barracks and met his strong, uninhibited bear hug with her body, letting him press the air out of her lungs and kiss her cheek.

“Hey, Bessie Boo, I,uh, I can’t, I don’t even, I uh, I hate to leave you, honey, I ain’t even had time to tell you what I want to say, what -”

Bess put her finger to his lips, feeling his breath as she shhhed him. His brows were furrowed and he frowned, not wanted to leave her car and return to the barracks. She rubbed her hand up his chest reassuringly.

“You only have five minutes to get into your bunk, Private Pres - Elvis.” She murmured. “Now, go be a good boy, I have an idea, for how to help you sleep in the future.”

“Hmmm, sounds fun.” A naughty expression played across his face, his jaw hung open and he waggled his eye brows.

Bess realized the insinuation and hit his arm.

“Not that.” She cocked her head towards the road. “You better go.”

“Huh, usually girls are tryin to run after me, not run me off.” She hit him again as he teased her. “Ok, ok baaaby. I’m off like a gun.”

Elvis face twisted into a crooked grin, and Bess felt like the sun was rising in her car, the earth was suddenly brighter when Elvis’ blue eyes beamed down at her and he kissed her goodbye. It was a light, sweet kiss aimed at her mouth but somehow missing and hitting the crease of her lips.

It had been, what, a year since she had been kissed? Bess kept her eyes closed, just enjoying the soft, tingling sensation of his mouth crushed into her face. Elvis’ hands gripped her tightly, one hand on her neck, the other at her back, and he moved as if to kiss her again. In a brief moment of clarity, Bess realized she had been fighting her attraction to Elvis all night. It had been gradual and immediate, and she felt very different being close to him then she did when she saw hm in the movies or on the TV and radio. At the back of her mind she could hear all the reasons she shouldn’t kiss him. She pushed her hand up between their lips.

“Um, hey, look. Think we could just be friends? I, uh, I have a rule. I don’t date soldiers.”

Elvis sat back, a quizzical expression softening on his face into a smile as he rubbed her shoulder.

“Sure, Bessie baby, friends. Got it.”

He clicked his tongue and grinned, shooting her a thumbs up. Bess nodded, unable to stop the flutter of her heart as she watched Elvis’ long legs carry him forward as he jogged around the corner to his bunk, pausing to look back over his shoulder at her with a goofy smile as he waved goodbye.

“Fuck a duck.” She heard herself mutter, as she put her car into gear and drove home to shower and get Elvis Presley out of her head.

***********************************************************

Chapter Two: Moo Moo & Tupelo

If you enjoyed this and want to read more, comment, reblog, and let me know what you think and if you would want to be tagged. Tagging a few of you on here who read my stuff, but DM or comment if you would rather not be ;)

@doll-elvis @richardslady121 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @father-of-2cats @everythingelvispresley @j-v-9-2 @eliseinmemphis @moonchild-daniella @notstefaniepresley @louisejoy86 @amydarcimarie @kingdomforapony @dkayfixates @artlover8992 @18lkpeters @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley #elvis presley fan fic #elvis presley fan fiction #elvis fan fiction #army elvis #fort hood 1958 #basic training #elvis x oc #writing prompt game #banditqueenwrites

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icyminghao · 4 months

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2023 with icyminghao!

to start off, to say i’m massively grateful would be an understatement. i honestly didn’t expect to start writing again after quitting like 5 years ago 💀 and just decided to write for boynextdoor on a whim bc they haven’t debuted yet and would probably need some writers on the blr 😎

i was really excited to try out writing again having been a ghost reader for so long HELP (i’m not proud) and fate just led me back to my ult seventeen!

when i wrote, i just wanted to get my work out there and published on the cloud, and the reception and friends i made along the way were certainly not on my bingo card but a welcome surprise nonetheless. i’m really, really grateful that people like reading my work and i’m sorry that i can’t push out fics regularly! i write on random spurts of inspiration and i have so many wips rn PLS i’ll do my best to publish them all soon!!!

and now to the friends i made along the way! i may not have been talking to y’all much lately but i’m still so grateful to have met each and everyone of you in my writing journey, y’all have been some of the sweetest, funniest, and most genuine people i have met ever and i love all of you guys:

zanna @slytherinshua my first friend on the blr!! so so in awe at how you’re in so many fandoms like it’s genuinely mind blowing to me (in a good way!) and i also like some of hoppipolla’s music and you’re the first person i’ve seen to like them too!! but anyways you’ve been so so sweet and kind and i love how you always strive to interact with everyone (hence the movie night and trying to accommodate to everyone’s schedules was so sweet btw)!! i hope 2024 treats you so well and i love you so much

yena @fairyhaos my butterfly :( you are genuinely the sweetest and cutest person i’ve ever met like i always have a smile on my face when i talk to you!! there is really never a dull moment in our conversations bc you’re just so so genuine and kind!!! i love your works too even though i may not have been interacting much (i try my best!!!) and i hope 2024 treats you well!! all the best for your upcoming exams too :)

skye @etherealyoungk skye!!! omg i always love talking to you :) you always feel like the older sister i never had and everytime i talk to you i just feel so warm all around like you’re just so sweet and kind and i hate how you’re always swarmed with exams but i know you’ll always just ace it anyway like the star student you are 😎 anyway if its possible i really hope 2024 brings you less academic stress and more fun!!!!!! i’m always rooting for you skye i love you sm :(

axe @blue-jisungs axie my honey pumpkin cupcake with buttercream frosting and 2 marshmallows and a cherry on top i love you sm :( you’re so so sweet and funny and i always love interacting with you and reading all the silly nicknames we come up with for each other i love you sm!! i hope 2024 will be the best year for you yet and it’ll only go up from here :) college is going to be so great for you too you’re gonna have so much fun!!!! and ace all your exams bc you’re just that smart 😎😎 love you!!

jada @kyeomyun jada :( i always love talking with you bc we always use all caps and it’s just so funny to me HELP but anyways you haven’t been active much and i hope life has been good to you and will be better in 2024 bc you deserve it sm!! i miss you sm and you’re literally so sweet and kind and i hope we get to talk more in 2024!

hana @wqnwoos quite literally my favourite writer i can’t believe i’m actually friends with you!! so starstruck HAHA but aaaa hana i love you sm your works literally bring light to my day like how do you write like that. and you’re so nice too like fr a whole package!! i hope 2024 brings you nothing but joy bc you really deserve it hehe

mellow @haowrld my fellow 8star!! i love you sm and i’m so sad we haven’t been able to talk lately (100% my fault i am absolutely horrible at replying) but you’re such a fun person to talk to and i hope 2024 will be a great year for you!!

rania @wheeboo rania!! i love your writing sm and you’re so so sweet too and quite literally the queen of reaction stickers i still love them so much HAHAHA we haven’t been able to talk much lately but i still love you with my whole heart and hope that 2024 is the best year for you!!

jem @pepperonidk jem!! i loved our conversations on movies and camp with the kids and i hope you’re having the time of your life in korea :) you’re so so kind and sweet and i always love talking with you, it really never fails to bring a smile to my face hehe i hope 2024 brings you all the joy!!

sky @weird-bookworm sky! omg i really need to get better at replying bc i love talking with you and would really really love to get closer AAA but you’ve been so sweet to me and i’m really grateful to have met you :( you’re always encouraging me to continue writing and i’m really thankful and i hope 2024 is your best year yet!

and to my other moots @woozvc @mirxzii @jeonride @trblsvt @hannyoontify @frenshushutoast @haecien @rubywonu we haven’t been able to interact much but i love you all sm nonetheless!! i’ll be interacting with you all much more in 2024 so be ready hehe 🤭🤭

and to my followers!!! i love you all sm and i’m so grateful that y’all like my work like genuinely ☹️☹️ i don’t deserve y’all!! i always love looking at your reblogs and it motivates me to continue writing!! and to the ghost readers (i’ve been there 💀) i appreciate y’all too hehe i’ll try my best to publish more quality work this 2024 that i hope y’all would like!!!! thank you sm 🩷

to 2024 😋

ps also wna thank some of my favourite writers out there i love your work sm literally my comfort: @leejungchans @wooahaes @thepixelelf @viastro @toruro @lovelyhan @97-liners @wqnwoos (😚) @wonwoonlight @twogyuu

#i love y’all #ICY THINKS OUT LOUD

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havendance · 2 years

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Tim joins the family early/Jason Todd never dies fic

I figured since I’m coming up on nearly a year of reading far to much batman fanfic, I might as well share some it with the rest of y’all. Doing this by trope because I was in the mood a week ago when I was tracking all of these down. Anyway, if you got any favorites in this genre that aren’t on this list, add them on! I’m always looking for more good fic to read.

Latchkey by goldkirk

55k, complete. This fic is one of those fandom classics and one of those central touchpoints for the genre. I don’t know enough to say for certain but anecdotally, I’ve seen a lot of fics drawing on it’s combination of baby-stalker!Tim, Tim befriending the Waynes, and getting adopted.

5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam

50k, complete. What it says on the tin. If you like sickfic, this is the one for you. Tim manages to get himself sick and/or injured in just about every chapter of this baby.

Belonged Here All Along by Raberba girl

25k, wip but the main story’s complete. Tim bluffs/gaslights his way into getting the bats to adopt him.

birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon

170k, wip. Plotwise, in broad strokes this was inspired by and is pretty similar to Latchkey. You’ve got your baby-stalker!Tim, Tim befriending the Waynes, and Tim getting adopted. It does put it’s own spin on everything though and is definitely worth checking out!

Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding

10k, complete. A 13 year-old Jason does his level best to adopted a 10 year-old Tim after Tim puts an ad in the paper for a big brother.

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge

25k, wip. As of the time of the post, this fic is still updating on a regular basis so the stats will probably become outdated sooner rather than later. Anyway, Jason doesn’t die, but Tim’s parents do and the family member who gets custody of him afterwards is slowly murdering him so Tim goes to the bats for help.

In this Town We Call Home by Vamillepudding

20k, complete. You’ve got your standard mix of baby-stalker!Tim, Tim befriending the Waynes, and adoption now with the added spice that the Drakes used Batman as a boogeyman and now Tim is kind of scared of Batman. Robin’s fine though!

On the Way Home by ignesfatuis

130k, complete. This one’s a little different than the rest of the fics in this list in that rather than taking place in a vaguely canon-ish universe, it takes place in a AU where there are wolf-shifters. Tim gets kidnapped, stuck in his wolf form, and is eventually rescued by the bats (who are also wolf-shifters).

Runaway Robin by DangerBeckett

10k, complete. Robin!Jason keeps running into baby-stalker!Tim on the roofs of Gotham. Very funny.

The Power of Family and this Stalker I found by JackHawksmoor

25k, wip. Technically, Jason did die in this one, he just came back at the earliest possible opportunity. Anyway, we’ve got baby-stalker Tim, we’ve got a Tim & Jason friendship, we’ve got a Dick and Bruce who’re dancing around each other and majorly miscommunicating. In other words, we’ve got all the good stuff.

These Were their Crimes by Moe64

55k, complete. Unlike most of the works on this list, I haven’t finished reading this one yet, but from what I’ve read so far, it’s good! Jason doesn’t die, but Tim’s parents still do and now Tim and Step wander around Gotham at night to fight crime (Tim doing more of like a stalker/detective thing).

Tim Pennyworth by April_Ace

10k, wip. Tim becomes Alfred’s foster child during Jason’s robin career. While this fic hasn’t been updated in a couple years, what there is now stands on it’s own quite well.

two against the world by carolinaa

35k, complete. Tim adopts a dog while out being a baby-stalker. Things escalate from there.

Fics that don’t quite fit the brief but that I still really like:

If I’m being honest, what goes on the main list or not is based almost solely off of vibes. Take that as you will.

Fairy Godbrother by envysparkler

30k, complete. The Tim joining the family early component of this is mainly in chapter 2, and is part of a larger plot where just about all the robins join the family early due to meddling from another dimension.

Surveillance by smilebackwards

7k, complete. Jason doesn’t die, and at the time this fic starts, Tim is seventeen, running around as a teenage stalker, and picking fights with Lex Luthor until he ends up tangled up in the Batfamily. Not on the main list mainly because Tim is nearly an adult.

The Man and The Nothing by Souliebird

5k, complete. 10 year old tim is being haunted by… something, and is just not doing well in general, so he goes to Batman for help.

#tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #fanfic recs #batman fanfic rec #batfam #I've got a couple more of these in the works #so hopefully you'll be seeing more like this #my fic rec lists #carthago delenda est #dc #bats + birds + affiliated #tim tag

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lesbiannancytruther · 1 year

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MY stranger things unpopular opinions <3

ok nobody asked but these r my stranger things unpopular opinions, inspired by a tweet where people just shared super common and well accepted opinions instead of actual controversy lol

also half of these r gonna be ronance centered because they’re literally all i think about

- first and foremost, nancy is a lesbian. i think so many of her actions and struggles can absolutely be traced back to comphet and repression and i feel like people want to cling onto her romance with steve and jonathan as a way to justify her fondness for them, when i think she can just care about them because they’re her friends and they’re trauma bonded(tm)

- while i like steve and robin being besties as much as everyone else i feel like people overestimate how close they really are in canon. of course they’re best friends but they really aren’t overly dependent on each other like people interpret them to be. they’re best friends but they also function really well on their own.

- though there’s no denying that will has feelings for mike i sincerely doubt that those romantic feelings are reciprocated and i think people are way too confident that byler is gonna be canon

- elmax is miles better than almost every canon AND fanon relationship in the show (i’d argue jopper and lumax (and biased opinion ronance) are the only genuine contenders)

- while i make a habit of being overly critical of men i think people forget that the “grumpy dad” trope with hopper that they like so much comes with him being a total dick sometimes lol

- both jonathan AND steve were weird as fuck in season 1. y’all r having a mid-off when u argue jancy vs. stancy

- and by mid-off i mean stancy wasn’t as bad as y’all act like it was and jancy is not as good as y’all act like it is

- y’all infantilize the FUCK out of robin buckley and im SICK OF IT!! she’s incredibly smart and strong and u people act like she’s stupid/a pushover/a nervous little baby

- in general i think the ronance fandom likes to apply tropes to nancy and robin in a way that isn’t accurate to their characters. its a very common and predictable pattern and i think thats why a lot of fan works feel out of character (an example to this is people applying grumpy x sunshine to nancy and robin respectively and it just doesn’t fit)

- karen is not a good mother. i think everyone can agree karen is weird as fuck for the billy thing, but i see a lot of people argue for karen that she’s really grown as a mother but i’m not seeing it. i don’t doubt that she loves her kids but there’s a reason mike and nancy are Like That

- y’all made up a ton of steve’s personality traits. i’m all good with interpreting his character a certain way but if the reason you hate nancy wheeler is because she unknowingly poked at insecurity of steve’s that u made up i have 0 respect for ur opinions lol

- and on that note steve is pretty badly written. i don’t think his path to “redemption” was bad but he’s so far from anything special that the love he gets from the fandom astounds me

- luckily this opinion isnt as unpopular anymore but steddie was figment of fandom imagination and the fact that it rotted y’all’s brains so bad to the point where you convinced yourself eddie munson was actually really important is just so...

- if you make fruity four content without nancy because you don’t think she’s interesting enough you’re a loser

- byclair is literally SOOOO much better than byler the fact that y’all aren’t going to war for them is upsetting

- this better not be an unpopular opinion but ive been seeing more of it recently: if you think joyce byers is a bad mother block me rn

- any hate that eleven, max, and nancy get is almost ALWAYS rooted in misogyny

ok thats it i probably have more but i cant think of any </3

#stranger things #unpopular opinions #ronance #elmax #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #el hopper #max mayfield #steve harrington #byclair #anti byler #anti steddie

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horizon-verizon · 7 days

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You’re a whole coon, of course Rhaenyra hates women, especially Black women, she tried to murder a 16 years-old Black girl, slut shamed her, called her racial slurs, and linked Nettles “ugliness/attractiveness” to her Blackness. Rhaenyra literally acted like a pathetic pick me in regard to Daemon and Nettles. If given the chance, Rhaenyra would have enslaved her. TB must truly despise Daenerys to compare her to Rhaenyra, they couldn’t be more different. (The way Rhaenyra is never mentioned in Dany’s chapters and GRRM has never discussed them in conjunction with the other, finally y’all can thanks HOTD for turning her into a progressive and flawless Mary Sue).

And really an insanely privileged white woman dying after putting a bounty on a lowborn Black’s girl head should be a good thing right ? We just gon have to celebrate Rhaenyra death with Nettles.

If you say so, anon, I guess I'm a straight up coon. 🤷🏿‍♀️

I suppose arguing how no one can be a feminist in a medieval world is coonish. I guess that pointing out how unconstructive it is to go "she wasn't a feminist so we shouldn't care about any possible effect her coming into power like the men before and after her have been able to will have an effect on other noble women's power to maybe implement some pro-women stuff in their own domains" to us analyzing why/how Rhaenyra is important to the history of Westeros and Daenerys is coonish.

I guess it's coonish of me to flout so many non-Nettles arguments of Rhaenyra's supposed bad leadership and amorality not once, but TWICE (that I remember), where it clearly just veers into straight up sexism: HERE and HERE....thus coming into why I even bother defending Rhaenyra (in some points).

It's not like I haven't already wrote several time in several posts how Rhaenyra's trying to get Nettles' head reveals much about the Targ-Andal paradigm she grows up in and tries to use to bolster herself through her going after Nettles to the end. It's not like I don't see how essentially different Daenerys and Rhaenyra are as people through the Nettles event as well as how they grow up and come into their positions of power and how/why they desire those roles:

It's not like I haven't already written about the Black Jezebel stereotype at least three times, including on Twitter and here. It's not like I have defended Nettles not just from "dettles" stans but also from people who call themselves Rhaenyra stans while bashing on Nettles and Mysaria, totally misunderstanding both characters and what even a supporting character is.

But sure, I'm a coon bc I don't want to ignore the journey of Rhaenyra's downfall and make distinct where she decided to destroy another woman vs her being the victim. Sure, I'm a whole coon.

And for the last fucking time, "compare" does not always or only mean "these two things are exactly alike and I will show you how"! "Comparison" analyses means that you will list out what traits or developments two things have, what inspirations, and see how they differ and how they don't. And through such a process, you will find out how many and how well/or not these two or more things are alike and how.

For Dany and Rhaenyra, I never said these girls/women were the same person. I said that both women, as women in male-designated positions of power, have to deal with people in world AND out of world must contend with misogynist feelings towards of their not deserving power or leadership on account of their gender, no matter what sort of characterization either had BECAUSE even with the main series not being like F&B, not being a history book, PEOPLE IN THE FANDOM STILL TEND TO MISREAD OR TWIST DANY'S ACTIONS AGAINST HER CHARACTER AND GRRM'S INTENT. Rhaenyra is meant to contextualize that very experience into a real event of catastrophe, she was set against ever since she was 10 bc she was female and another, older woman wanted power denied to her directly bc she was a woman. This is a fact, you nor I can change that. There is a difference between what we learn from the events to make the conclusions of who should rule ideally and what we should shoot for VERSUS thinking of the situation at hand for what it would have been like for the character.

F&B (having been written after the main series) continues even this "analysis" phenomenon; what do people choose to believe when it's a woman at the center of their stories?! No matter her real circumstances or their knowledge of things not present in their understanding of the world and of history?

I also mention, several times, how it is here, Rhaenyra's end, where the Targs lose their dragons because they have assimilated into the intenser patriarchal paradigm already mentioned to the point where they weakened their women's positions by denying them their autonomy and political powers...which plot sequence wise leads to the end of the dynasty as whole and Dany's exile. I'm must be a coon to not want Nettles, a 17 year old, to fuck a 50 year old, esp with her being his bio daughter. No, anon, I am too repulsed with direct vertical incest (parent-child, grandparent-grandchild, etc.).

Then there is how the Bloodstone Emperor and the Amethyst Empress and how the former usurped tha latter and plunged the entire world into mythological "darkness"--thus leading up to the importance of the Azor Ahai, aka Dany, directly seems to reflect how another brother--Aegon II--usurped his older sister--Rhaenrya--and thus the world loses a strong magical tool against darkness "dragons". An obvious link....

In fact, I tend to repeat how different they are as people! There's this whole thread talking abt the very thing I despise abt some critiques of Rhaenyra. I even say many times that Rhaenyra couldn't have the throne after the Nettles letter, that at that point, there needed a "refresh". Up until then, there was simply more reason for us to not think her a real terror except for maybe Addam and Alyn. But I have my misgivings there and it comes down to timing and grief.

No, Rosby and Stokeworth do not count and why? I already wrote why, but for someone who doesn't stan Rhaenyra or is not a fan of hers but actually stans just Daenerys--the previous ozymalek says:

I have myself said several times how I disliked how they rewrote show1Rhaenyra to make her a much less assertive version of herself, and I agree with others how they made her female-friendless. No matter how amoral or moral she was, similarly to Dany, people have written her sexistly in the show. I believe that this is CENTRAL to the point of F&B, how people refuse to see the point of it.

Finally, I really don't see how the hell show!Rhaenyra even is a Mary Sue or a NLOG, bc for the first, she displays no skill she excels over others at. A Mary Sue is:

Show!Rhaenyra, for some reason, seems "perfect" to some people. Esp with Luke saying so in epi 8. I never felt that way, I always thought she (older, not younger) was too meek and that is her great flaw---due to the sexist writing, but if kept at face value, that's the great flaw. Other definition: Who is inserting themselves into her character on the show? you got proof?

A NLOG (not like the other girls) is a Cersei like character who goes out of their way to destroy/diminish most women who are competitors for their power or destroy any semblance of socially-defined femininity and socially-coded feminine "weakness" so as to appeal to the male authority and get privileges. Problem is that EVERY SINGLE FEMALE MONARCH AND WOMAN IN SOME SORT OF AUTHORITY OVER MEN IN EVERY SINGLE PATRIARCHAL SOCIETY had to convince their male supporters that they were the one they should follow to some degree more than any male heir or candidate--during a time where they had to either fight for their "birthright" or they were planning coups (Catherine the Great), came into power through some accident, or whatnot--that their rule was in it for them. There is no pattern of woman-hating or self-hating to define Rhaenyra as a NLOG, where she consistently tries. NLOGs tend to hate women even in their own "race" or group for perceived acts of upheaval and destabilizing their positions of power. Alicent was and she uses misogyny to do so, so Alicent is not Rhaenyra's victim; other way around. Rhaenyra has all reason to despise Alicent, justified even. It's more than the positions, it's the whole targeting since 10 deal and trying to espouse Rhaenyra's inherent unworthiness for power.

So Rhaenyra deciding to do the Rosby/Stokeworth bit is her seeing how her greatest ally, a sexist man, has basically all her ships during wartime and insisting she does not give those girls their father's seats is Rhaenyra choosing wrongly, yes, but something I don't think that you or a small number of women would bow under considering the other shit she was going through. Yes, even black/PoC women. Again, this is not about Nettles but about women vs women (yes with them all being white or white-adjacent) bc I know that this will be the next thing some will say as a counterargument to what I'm saying here.

You are correct, however, in how similar Rhaenyra's behavior abt Nettles is pick-me-ish and NLOG concerning her intent to turn Daemon back to her and how this was her seeing Nettles as competition for "control" over Daemon, who was one of her principal military commands as well as her romantic partner...and like i said once before, this is a reflection on how this Andal-Targ patriarchal paradigm makes its own female "terrors" through misogyny. To ignore the process is to endanger its justified repetition. Yeah, Rhaenyra ends up becoming like Alicent in that way after the consistent losses, and I mean defaulting back to destroying another woman for a simulation of power. This doesn't mean that she was a feminist or that she didn't intend on using the Black Jezebel reasoning to get rid of "competition" to feel more in control. It does mean that her behavior reveals her enmeshment in the xenophobic, aristocratic, patriarchal Targ-Andal feudalist paradigm that she chooses to use to, again, construct more feelings of power at a time where she seemed to feel she was losing more and more--after the betrayals and the deaths of her sons in that moment. And yet if there is anything to be extracted from her narrative it is how that built-in classism (the companion and parent of racism) can become the thing these women default onto to retrieve/gain the agency & power denied to them. I believe this is also where you can draw a core similarity to Cersei, who is rather the starkest extreme example of that classism making up for her internalized misogyny through her Lannister Exceptionalism.

The discourse has to include how we, the readers, over-blame Rhaenyra for things she has either very little control over or what she had no control over and for trying to, again, assert herself (before Nettles). She's a reflection of her times and situation; doesn't mean she isn't still a victim. You don't need to like her. I never asked for people to do so. I don't care if you do or not, I've never needed that. Just don't lie or twist information or ignore clear patterns GRRM establishes that are also important, or try to erase the lines of harm done to her and undo the work GRRM is doing to point out this pattern of misogyny that contextualizes one very key aspect of Dany's journey: sexism doesn't care how goo or classist you are, you are a woman so you will be subject to disenfranchsement, distorotion of facts, and destruction...if you are not like Dany, who intuitively and "rationally" discovers lanes of power while reintegrating her beign to the natural process and relationships between herself and her dragons for the ecological benefit of the entire world (the Others, again). Unlike Rhaenyra, Dany doesn't fall into the ideological "trap" or the noblewoman's save-grace of exploiting of lowborn people AND dragons but intelligently seeks other non-exploitative ways to use her dragons and those inspired by he bravery. This again, does not erase or override the sexism that ties these two together.

It's a paradox, not a contradiction.

#asoiaf asks to me #rhaenyra's characterization #rhaenyra targaryen #fandom nonsense #rosby and stokeworth #rhaenyra and feminism #hate asks #azor ahai

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thecreelhouse · 10 days

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accident prone

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!OC - Francesca “Frankie” Amato

Summary: After surviving the hell on earth that is Hawkins, Indiana, years of traumatic injuries and PTSD have left a permanent impact on Steve and his health. He’s sought out professional help time and time again, yet 5 years after leaving home, he’s still in constant pain, feeling isolated and misunderstood— until someone as sick as him comes along, renewing his hope on the future.

accident prone - jawbreaker

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“A near miss or a close call? / I keep a room at the hospital / I scratch my accidents into the wall / I couldn't wait to breathe your breath / I cut in line, I bled to death / I got to you, there was nothing left”

tags, A/N, and additional information under the cut:

series playlist can be found here ♡

part one - cold-blooded and drifting away

part two

part three

Includes: angst, hurt/comfort, ableism, language, PTSD, discussions of chronic pain/illness and disabilities, discussions of comorbidities, mentions of medical gaslighting, various medical treatments, fluff, eventual smut, etc.

What this fic will not include: inspiration “porn” of disabled folks, professional advice (I’ve done as much research as I can, and also using my firsthand experience as someone who is disabled/chronically ill, but don’t hesitate to correct me if necessary!), romanticized illness, forced positivity/optimism, etc.

A/N: This is a HC I’ve had for years now, probably since S3. IMO, there’s no way anyone, especially Steve, would survive all those close calls without lasting chronic pain. It’s also fibromyalgia awareness month, so I feel now’s a good time to share this. I’m anticipating 3 parts total, and even with the OC and relationship it’ll be more Steve centric, since I wanted to focus on his trauma and the way his body would react to it in my HC. I edited this more than I wanted to, going back and forth between making this with an OC or reader. Ultimately, it was much easier to write with an OC than reader, so I hope y’all will still give this one a chance despite that. I know OCs aren’t really popular among this fandom (which sucks, bc y’all miss out on a lot of great fics with them!) but this fic is more focused on Steve anyway. Honestly, there’s not enough disability/chronic pain rep in fics, and it bums me out how often us disabled/chronically ill babes are left out of the conversation of representation in fics. We matter, too. so, if you’re able bodied and read this, I hope it enlightens you on the journey of a disabled person (not one size fits all of course— every single body is different). and for the fellow sick babes, this one’s for you. ♡

#steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x fem!oc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sorry to use the last two the other tags are so dead 😭#my fics #accident prone

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choicesficwriterscreations · 8 months

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September 2023 WOTM: lilyoffandoms

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @lilyoffandoms. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

This month's Writer of the Month was selected a little differently than normal. We announced that we would be selecting the WOTM from the participants in last month's Writer Appreciation Event. But the eleven writers involved all agreed the honor belonged to Lily. Lily has been a staple in the Choices community for so long, and they continuously go out of their way to support creators and spread positivity while continuing to inspire and create themselves. We couldn't think of anyone better suited for the honor, so please join us in congratulating Lily... September's Writer of the Month!

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Name: lilyoffandoms Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Lily is fine (they/them preferred)

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

Best guess would be back in January of 2018. It was a joke at first since a friend saw one of their god-awful ads and said we should both try it. Next thing you know, we were both arguing over which books were better and regretting our decision to start. Though their opinions on what constitutes good books are almost as bad as the Choices ad that got us to jokingly play (and I say this most lovingly because they are awesome and I love them). I started with Most Wanted, and my friend started with The Freshman.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

Oh gods! I joined back in March 2019. I know I’m a Tumblr baby by most everyone’s standards, but that feels like a really long time. I joined when Open Heart book one was released. I had lurked, reading fanfics, for a few months before biting the bullet and creating a blog and actually posting. Only joined because I was taking my editor’s advice and writing something entirely outside my norm to break a particularly bad case of writer’s block. Thought I might as well share those silly things if I was taking the time to write them. Maybe someone would enjoy them. Never did plan on sticking around, but found so many lovely people that I’ve come to call friends.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

It was lilyofchoices. My name + Choices because I am super creative like that with those sorts of naming things 😅 I changed it to lilyoffandoms when I left the Choices fandom for a bit. I’ve thought about changing it more times than I can count but I can’t bring myself to actually follow through on it. How do y’all’s change your blog name with each new book release? You are a crazy different breed of tumblr and you fascinate me.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I deleted the first one years ago. It was my first drabble. Currently, as it stands, the first thing in my archive is this post about Desire and Decorum, and it still makes me giggle.

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I’ve only been writing fanfic since I joined Tumblr. I never really tried writing fanfic before that. Some nonfiction personal things before that but never anything like this world. It's been an adventure, to say the least haha

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

My favorite book is probably Blades of Light and Shadow, book one, but there are plenty that are really close behind. This is also the book I’d say I enjoy writing for the most because it is my favorite book, contains my favorite LI, and has one of my favorite OCs (Maiele) in it.

Though recently, I’ve been writing more for Crimes of Passion because it's more of a challenge for me. It's a different vibe between the MC and the LI and it's one I don’t often explore so I’m here for that right now. But I have a sneaky suspicion once Blades 2 drops I’ll be back on my bullshit with that again.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

I don’t think it exists on this site anymore. Maybe in someone’s reblog? I still have it in my files. It was an Ethan x MC drabble featuring my MC, Merida. I still like it. I’d not change it cuz I’m a firm believer in writing it and don’t look back haha.

This is it:

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to form in his eyes. There it was. He had told her. Dr. Banerji was dying and Ethan was at a loss as to what was ailing his mentor and friend. Ethan stared at the young woman in front of him and then to the floor. He cleared his throat and made a small motion to turn back into Naveen’s room but froze instantly the moment he noticed her take a step towards him.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him, wishing to take away all of his pain, all of his loneliness. Silently willing him to understand that she cared for him. Cared deeply for him and much more than she should. “Ethan. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, one hand stroked through his hair while the other grasped his neck and slowly bent his head toward her shoulders as she raised herself to her tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He tensed upon feeling her arms around him. Arms, he thought to himself, that he had imagined holding him for a number of weeks now. Ever since that night spent sitting up with her watching little baby Ethan. “Merida,” he sighed as he gradually relaxed into the embrace.

She didn’t let up on the hug, squeezing him to her just a bit more tightly. God, she had wanted to comfort him when Dolores died but she didn’t know how he would respond. Now, he was facing the possibility of another friend dying and she couldn’t help herself.

He responded to the increased pressure of her hug and tightened his own hold upon her. Finding himself tracing circles up her spine and imagining what it would feel like to move his hands to tease along the skin of her back where her pants met her shirt.

Her breath caught when she felt his hands move lower. No longer making gentle movements along her spine but increasing their pressure upon her body, nearly massaging their way lower. She brought one of her own hands around to his chest, lightly bunching his white coat in her fist to try and pull him closer to her.

A loud crash echoed down the hall. “Shit!” a construction worker cursed. The two doctors jumped back from each other both staring into each other’s eyes seeming to question if they had both felt the same in the other’s arms. She blushed slightly. “I should see to my other patients. Dr. Banerji’s condition stays between us. Understand, Rookie?” he stated, his eyes narrowing. She nodded and he turned and marched down the hall.

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I love asking this question of others but don’t like it asked of me. I’m so bad at self-rep and advertising my wares 😂 But if I had to pick one, I’d say this one. It was so far outside my comfort zone when it came to writing that I almost abandoned it two paragraphs in. But I’m a stubborn person, and I refused to let it beat me. Plus, I had been wanting to write a noir fic for this book since it was released. Furthermore, I adore Hayden’s work too much not to gift a little something back for all the art he shares with us, so I knew I just had to make it work.

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

I didn’t expect last year’s Luck of the Draw fic to garner much love. Attention? Maybe. But not love and definitely not the response I got. I really enjoyed writing that one.

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Fluff. I’m a sucker for happy-ever-afters and an endless hopeless romantic. Give me the fluff. All the fluff.

I pull a lot of what I toss into my silly drabbles from real life. Always been a believer in writing, most often what you know, and sprinkle that all with a dash of the stuff you don’t as a treat. And my life is pretty fluffy thanks to my incredible partner.

However, I do so adore angst I’m just not able to write it often because it hurts more to write. But I’ll always always read it. That pain is *chef’s kisses*

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Maiele, my Blades MC, is most definitely me coded. His whole personality, his choice of partner when it comes to personality, his constant flirting with said partner, his sense of humor, his lack of a filter most times, it’s all pretty much me. Gabriel, my CoP MC, is me when it comes to romantic gestures and Valentine’s Day. I may be a romantic, but I get weird when it’s aimed at me 😂

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Editing. I refuse to do it. I hate it with the burning light of a thousand suns. Those of you that manage to edit your fics have all my admiration. I honestly don’t know how y’all do it. Doesn’t it just bore you to no end?

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

I have more drafts than I care to admit. I would like to complete a series I started long ago for Ethan x Merida, but I don’t know if I’ll ever do that. I’d settle for finishing one of my drafts 😅

14- 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?

Nope, haha, I’d not be able to do that. If I were that brave, I’d recommend this one maybe. I do so love Flynn. Or this one, mostly because I do so love the idea of Gabriel just pouting on the couch.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

Not really. I mean all of em probably. I read a lot of books in a lot of genres. Mostly I use my drabbles as morning warm ups for my day job.

There are definitely fanfic writers I admire around here that encourage me to share my silly things everyday. Especially all those queer writers out there that have a rather thankless existence sometimes around here but keep sharing their stories! They are all my heroes!!

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Any and all of my Maiele and Tyril stories. I just love them sooooo much!!

17- Do you write original fiction?

Yes, but until recently, I wrote mostly nonfiction.

I do have a fic I began a few years back when I was still teaching. I had a student who hated their writing class, so I promised to write a short story alongside them and read it to the class like all the students had to if they gave it an honest go.

They did and so I did too, and I was asked the following year to do it again by more students and so I continued the same story. I’ve since continued that same fic, and maybe someday I’ll actually go looking to publish it.

18 - What other hobbies do you have?

I love the outdoors. Hiking, spelunking, kayaking, gardening, camping, anything and everything outdoors. My other favorite hobby, which I've done for years and years, is fencing. I still am part of a club and teach a few levels.

19 - What’s your favorite emoji?

😅 because it’s legit my state of existence at this point in life.

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

I want to send a special shout-out to all the absolutely lovely participants of August’s writer appreciation event I hosted. I still cannot believe y’all did this for me. 😘 These are each of my favorite fics you’ve written. Thank you for making our fandom a little brighter each and every day!

@aallotarenunelma Bathed in Sunlight @coffeeheartaddict2 Moths to a Flame @karahalloway A Leviathan Surprise @jerzwriter A Mother's Journal @ladylamrian Ma Cherie @mydemonsdrivealimo Run, Run @peonyblossom We're Gonna Get Married @petiteboheme Familia @storyofmychoices Passing Shower @tessa-liam All is Fair in Love and War @trappedinfanfiction What's In a Name? Lily's Top Three Commissions can be found here:

Crimes of Passion by @javsarts

A Year of Kisses by various artists: @lethendralis-paints @cashweasel @kundool @deheerkonijn @javsarts @weetlebeetle @kollapsar @mooreaux @rosefuckinggenius @/ArtbyAinna (IG) @littlestpersimmon @callmebeem

Trystan x Noel by @rosefuckinggenius

#cfwc writer of the month #playchoices #choices the stories you play #lilyoffandoms #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfiction #choices fanart

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