#and imo if you read the fic you can tell that i wasn’t that into it and was just writing it to get it over with

[theangrypomeranian]

tfw you've been thinking about deleting your most popular fic from a past fandom

[updownlately]

no, you don’t have to hide (the things you feel inside, i feel too)

| leah williamson x reader | hurt/comfort | 1.3k | a/n: heard 'lonely eyes' by lauv for the first time today and i got obsessed. whipped up a tiny little h/c fic based on the song! if you want the full effect of the fic (imo) listen to the song as you read! (it's linked above :)) sorry for slightly depressing content, im in a mood.... but anyways, happy reading!

~~~

"i don’t mean to be rude there’s things in myself that i see in you lonely eyes she had those lonely eyes i only know ‘cause i have them too lonely eyes no, you don’t have to hide the things you feel inside, i feel too ‘cause i’m lonely just like you ‘cause i’m lonely just like you"

-

“Had you not moved your arm a few seconds ago, I swear I would’ve called an ambulance or something…”

The words came from the blonde stood above you, her voice teasing yet cautious, softly testing the waters as she took in your sprawled out state in the middle of the training field.

It was much, much past the time practice had ended, Leah’s rehab session what brought her to stay after, to be there to notice your crumpled form on the pitch. 

You, who was still in your training gear, a light hoodie on you however, limbs sprawled out save for your left arm, which was haphazardly slung across your face, hiding your eyes. 

Your hum of response barely audible, had the midfielder’s eyebrows furrowing in worry, head tilting to the side as she crouched down beside you.

“Hey, you okay?”

The gentle words caused you to smile wryly, bloodshot eyes hidden underneath the protective cover of the crook of your arm as you did your best to make your voice sound normal.

Clearing your throat as nonchalantly as possible, you took a deep breath before speaking out. 

“Yeah….why wouldn’t I be?”

Sighing at how you were clearly not okay, the tear tracks on your cheeks very much visible in the setting rays of the sun, Leah shook her head to herself. 

You were stubborn- she very much knew it from having had the privilege of playing with you for the better part of the past season, and if there was one thing she definitively learned about you, it was that you hesitated to show any excess emotions, much rather choosing to let out whatever it may be on the pitch.

Right now though? Right now you looked utterly exhausted, the lack of games clearly taking its toll on you. 

Stretching her neck, Leah decided to take her chances at getting through to you, at least enough so that whatever it was you were feeling right now disappeared, her only goal at the moment to make you feel better. 

Gently tossing her water bottle a few feet away from where the pair of you were, Leah took a seat beside you, leaving a considerable gap so as to not make you uncomfortable.

Legs extended out as she stretched them, the blonde watched as your chest rose unevenly, almost as if she could hear each shaky breath as it escaped you, you still hellbent on trying to claim you were doing alright. 

“You can tell me you’re fine but it doesn’t mean I have to believe it…”

The words were hushed, just whispered quietly enough to stay between you two, even though no one else was around to hear it. 

The blonde eyed you warily though, her eyes scanning your face as she saw you register the words. 

Watching keenly, she saw you clench your jaw impossibly tight, shoulders tensing, you swallowing hard at the words as your breathing stilled for a second until you realized how you had frozen and quickly picked it back up again. 

“You might be doing a good job of hiding it, at least from the others, but- and I don’t mean to be rude- but there’s things in myself that I see in you…and those things aren’t fun, at least in my experience.”

You didn’t realize it, but you found yourself nodding subconsciously at the words, a part of you relieved that your mind wasn’t the only one this messy. 

Seeing the way your head moved had the Gunner beside you smiling slightly, glad to see your walls crumbling ever so slightly. 

Pausing to see if you would say anything, Leah patiently waited, head turning as she gazed around at the scenery around you two, bathing in the calmness of Mother Nature as she gave you a minute or so to collect yourself. 

So caught up in watching a baby bird as it shakily flew from one branch of a tree to another, Leah was pleasantly jolted out of her reverie by your faint voice, your words lowly mumbled, as your arm came to move down from your eyes, revealing your bloodshot eyes to Leah, your gaze not meeting hers one bit as you looked up into the pinking sky above.

“It- it sometimes gets loud, y’know?”

Your hesitant tone, coupled with the tired words and red eyes had the skipper’s heart quietly breaking, well aware of what you were referring to.

Staying silent to urge you to continue, the blonde leaned back on her elbows, humming near soundlessly, 

“The voices up there, they just don’t stop. I wish they did so bad, but they don’t…”

A bubble of comfort took over the both of you at the words, the breeze blowing between as you basked in the freeing relief of being understood.

It just so happened that the blonde unfortunately knew exactly what you were referring to- the little voice, sometimes voices, that never stopped. Reminding you of each mistake in a game, each misspoke or awkward pause in your conversations. Voices that held the weight of the fans’ emotions, their expectations, their disappointment, each and every criticism ever uttered into existence, all meshed into a voice that followed her everywhere, not a moment of reprieve, as the assault battered her down day by day, no matter how hard she pushed through it. 

Nodding in understanding, breathing deeply as she felt herself feel seen, Leah exhaled softly before speaking.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but I can’t promise that…”

Her words hung in the air as you felt another wave of emotions cross you, the sentiment not really what you expected nor wanted to hear at the moment. 

Eyes tearing up at the admission, exhaustive frustration seeping into your bones, you sunk deeper into the grass beneath you, too afraid of the hurricane of emotions within you to speak up. 

Doing your best to hold it together, you willed the tears to not fall, keeping your eyes open for as long as possible so that they’d dry out faster, hoping the unshed tears would disappear. 

You were almost successful too, nearly getting a grasp on your emotions, before you heard shuffling from the girl beside you, feeling your arms brush as you just barely tilted your head to the side, watching from the corner of your eye as Leah settled down beside you, joining you in laying down.

Feeling her body warmth near you, you took a shuddering breath, the heavy weight of being alone earlier slowly rising from your chest as breathing became a tad bit easier. 

“What I can tell you- no, promise- what I can promise you is that I’ll be here beside you through it all if you’ll have me. We don’t even have to talk if you want. If you want someone to sit beside you when your mind gets a little too loud, your heart a little too heavy? I can do that. You don’t have to do it alone…I rather you not, to be honest.”

Lips turning ever so slightly as you closed your eyes, head nodding microscopically, you took in a deep sigh, flexing your jaw as your lungs loosened, the weight not completely off your chest just yet, but just enough that you believed for a second, for a moment, that maybe things could be alright.

“I think I’d like that…”

And when Leah intertwined your hands together, letting them rest between your bodies as you watched as the pink sky slowly molded into orange and then purple as the sun finally set, you took the chance to look over at her, her eyes meeting yours at the sound of your movement, two pairs of lonely eyes recognizing your shared emotions, any differences pushed aside as you stripped down to nothing but understanding and relief- grateful to find someone just like you, to be there for you. 

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I mostly lurk and don't read a lot of ofmd fic (short ones, no au) but one I haven't seen much of is hurt/comfort where Stede is the hurtee/comfortee. I know Ed gets the most comforting but, IMO, Stede deserves some too, poor guy. I do like hurt/comfort a lot, so if you are moved to write something like this I would love to read it.

I remember an expression from back in the bronze age of fanfic, h/c, and slashfic that "if he's smaller or blonder, he's toast." Stede meets both those requirements, LOL! Anyway, thanks for asking for asks. Enjoy your posts and fic.

Yesss, Stede needs some comfort!! Bon appetit!

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic!

--

Ed didn’t realize what had woken him up, at first. The sunlight was just beginning to creep in through the curtains, and Stede’s shoulders were shaking. Stede was crying, little hiccups and hitching breaths as he tried to stay quiet, and Ed was reaching for his hand before he opened his eyes.

“Sorry,” Stede mumbled, squeezing Ed’s fingers with one hand and rubbing at his eyes with the other. His voice was creaky and wet, and it made Ed’s chest feel tight. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Ed couldn’t say Stede hadn’t woken him up, because he had. It wasn’t his fault, it just…was. He thought he would’ve felt it, no matter how hard Stede tried to hide it. He would have felt Stede’s pain in the air itself. “I’m glad you did,” he said instead, and it was true. He never wanted Stede to have to cry alone again. “What’s wrong?” Stede’s bottom lip trembled. “Have a bad dream?” Ed guessed. Slowly, Stede nodded, and Ed repositioned them, tangling their legs together under the blankets and pulling Stede into his chest. Stede pillowed his head on Ed’s bicep, one hand slipping under the covers to rest over Ed’s bare hip, tracing little nonsense patterns onto his skin. “You can tell me about it,” Ed said softly. “You don’t have to. But you can if you want to, you know I’ll listen.” Stede stared up at the ceiling, pursing his lips. “Might make you feel better,” Ed offered. Stede’s hand had gone all still where he’d been rubbing circles over Ed’s hip. “You listen to me talking about mine,” Ed went on. “It’s not fair, for you to just go on pretending you’re not having them. You don’t have to - no talking required here! - but you can. If you wanna.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Stede said carefully, his eyes flicking away from Ed’s. He sighed up at the ceiling. “Hardly seems fair. You have more right to bad dreams than I do-” “Stede, babe, it doesn’t work like that.” Ed reached up with his free hand to pull his hair, still in the ponytail he’d put it up in before bed, over his shoulder. The gesture accomplished what he’d set out to do, and Stede got his hand in it immediately, gently running a hand through his hair. “It’s not a competition. We can both have bad dreams, doesn’t mean you’re trying to…what, steal all the attention?” “Well,” Stede wheedled. “You listen here, Bonnet,” Ed said, lowering his voice to be all fake-menacing, “you better let me give you all the attention I want, or there’ll be - I dunno, consequences?” “Oh, no, not the consequences,” Stede pretended to whine. “Yep. I’ll eat all your dessert tonight,” Ed vowed. “So, if you feel like you wanna, you better talk to me. If you don’t want consequences. Because I’ll do that.” “Oh, I don’t doubt you would,” Stede chuckled, but he still looked hesitant, so… “How about this,” Ed said. “You could always make it into a story, if you like. Pretend you’re talking about someone else? Might be easier.” “I could try that,” Stede conceded. Ed hummed softly as Stede thought, enjoying the feeling of Stede’s gentle hand in his hair. “Once upon a time,” Stede began, “there was a very, very selfish man-” “Hey.” Ed gently poked Stede’s ribs. “What have we decided about this?” “Ow!” Stede squirmed away from Ed’s fingers, then flicked the tip of his nose in retaliation, and they both burst into giggles. “Seriously, though,” Ed said through his laugh.

“Fine, fine!” Stede huffed. “Once upon a time, there was a man who really wasn’t terribly or unusually selfish, if you were very generous with your definitions and were also feeling charitable on the day you decided to describe him.” “That’s better,” Ed allowed. “Thank you.” Stede gave him a small smile, but his eyes were getting distant, again. He had a faraway look Ed didn’t care for. “And that only typically selfish man once hurt someone he loves very badly, and he was almost too late to ever see him again. And he worries that he might just keep hurting him, because there’s something - something rotten in him, and it hurts people. He’s trying to be brave, and strong, and he’s trying to believe he’s not broken. But he’s not all that brave, and he’s not all that strong. The end.” Stede’s voice went all weak and shaky at the end, and Ed let out a breath through his teeth. Talking it through, when it came to the two of them, was usually a bit of a weepy affair. But it didn’t always have to be. Ed was getting better, at trusting Stede, at trusting himself, at knowing what would make Stede feel better. “Not all that strong?” Ed playfully squeezed Stede’s bicep. “C’mon, mate, have you even seen these guns?” Stede laughed, gratefully burying his nose in Ed’s neck when Ed threw an arm across his waist to hold him close. “Seriously, babe.” Ed leaned forward for a sweet little peck of a kiss, only pulling back far enough to brush their noses together. “You’re, like, the strongest guy I know.” “Ed, I wish you wouldn’t tease me-” “No teasing here,” Ed promised. “Seriously, you blow me away. You’re so thoughtful, and kind, and you’re so you all the time-” “That might actually be part of the problem.” “No, Stede, don’t you get it?” Ed cupped Stede’s face in his hands, making him hold eye contact, making him listen without looking away. “That takes a lot of guts, man. You never let anyone tell you who you should be, and I admire the hell out of you for it.” “Well, that’s…” Stede tried to hold back a smile, obviously flattered. “You’re so sweet.” “Not just a pretty face, huh?” Stede laughed, pressing his forehead against Ed’s, and Ed leaned in to meet him for a kiss that tasted like home.

[jeannineee]

Please please please can we get a part 2 of There’s No Tomorrow!! Where the reader and Ruhn reunite after his imprisonment; we need closure and for him to be safe! PLEASE I beg you 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️

I love your work and love that you write for Ruhn. We don’t get enough fics of him which is a travesty imo

When Tomorrow Comes

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

a/n: part two of “There’s No Tomorrow”

warnings: ANGST!!! Canon-typical themes, allusions to torture, MAJOR HOSAB SPOILERS

Y/N. Aux headquarters. Now. Hurry.

Your hands shook as you read the text from Flynn, your mind racing. You hadn’t heard anything about Ruhn for months.

The bond was weak. Utterly weak. Every now and then, you’d feel little…tremors, almost. The only assurance that your mate wasn’t dead.

Or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

Maybe Ruhn died the moment he disappeared behind those walls, in the Eternal City.

No, you would know. You’d feel it. Right?

You were jolted out of your thoughts as another text from Flynn chimed on your phone.

Get your ass over here. Now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You practically sprinted from your apartment to the Aux headquarters, fear rattling your bones, panic rolling through you.

The moment you saw Flynn and Dec, you knew.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Flynn spoke up. “We found him. He’s here.”

You froze, unblinking. “What?”

“Ruhn is here. He’s in the—“

You didn’t give Dec time to explain before you were barreling past them, toward the interrogation rooms.

Tharion stood in front of the second room, offering you a halfhearted smile in greeting.

You gulped. “Is he…he’s in there?”

Tharion nodded. “Yes but…you should prepare yourself.”

“For what?”

“He’s…he’s different. Looks different. Acts different.”

You lowered your voice. “He’s been tortured and in captivity for five months. Of course he’s different,” you hissed.

Tharion sighed, muttering a small apology. “His father wants to see him.”

“Tell the Autumn King to go fuck himself,” you snapped, before entering the small, plain room.

Ruhn sat at a metal table in the center.

Ruhn.

As you took him in, a small, pitiful sound ripped from your throat.

He stared blankly at the wall, unmoving.

The hair that used to hang to his waist was now a buzz-cut.

And his tattoos…

The beautiful art that once covered his arms was now disfigured, taken over by countless scars of varying shapes and sizes.

“Ruhn…” his name was a broken whisper on your lips.

You could feel him now, through the bond. But he felt far away.

“Ruhn,” you called to him again, tugging on the bond.

Nothing.

You sank to your knees beside him. Slowly, cautiously, you brought a hand to his arm.

He flinched, but you remained.

Finally, he brought his eyes to yours, and whatever far away place he had been only moments before ceased to exist as realization hit him.

“Y/n?” his voice was hoarse, unsteady. You felt him tug on the bond, as though he was ensuring this wasn’t a dream. That you were, in fact, in front of him.

A single tear slid down your cheek as you returned his pull on the bond. “It’s me. I’m here.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe, as you waited for him to make the first move.

The next words out of his mouth shattered you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you said quickly, fiercely. “Nothing.”

Ruhn sunk to the floor in front of you, knee to knee as he flung his arms around you, holding you tightly enough that you were sure your ribs would crack.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking a moment to breathe in your scent, to remind himself that this was real. That you were real.

Then he sobbed, and it was the most soul-destroying sound you’d ever heard.

His shoulders shook with the force of his cries as you held him, running a soothing hand along his back as you whispered comforting words into his ear.

You don’t remember how long the two of you stayed there, clinging to one another, terrified that one of you would blink, and the other would disappear.

~~~~~~~~~

It had been two months since Ruhn returned.

His hair had grown out a bit, enough that you could run your hands through it. He’d already gotten new tattoos, shielding most of his scars.

The physical ones, anyway.

Ruhn had nightmares almost every night, reliving the torture he went through at the hands of the Asteri.

In the last week, he’d only had two. Both times, you were there to ground him, soothe him. He confided in you about most of what he went through, and it was enough to make you nauseous.

Other things, he couldn’t bear telling you.

So now, you watched him as he slept, counting each of his breaths, listening to his heartbeat. He looked peaceful, so at odds with how he looked the day he came home.

“It’s kinda creepy to stare at someone while they sleep,” Ruhn murmured, his eyes still shut as his arms tightened around you.

You rolled your eyes as you sat up slightly, pressing your lips to his, your hand cupping his jaw. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too.”

Ruhn leaned forward to kiss you again, but the sound of his stomach rumbling sent both of you into a fit of laughter.

“Breakfast?” you asked.

Ruhn pecked your lips. “Yes. I’m cooking, though. You’ll burn the house down.”

You gasped dramatically. “Not true.”

Ruhn arched a brow.

You huffed. “Slightly true.”

Ruhn climbed out of bed first, with you following behind him.

As you watched him flip pancakes, you absentmindedly twisted the ring on your finger. The ring that the two of you picked out together, a week after Ruhn came home.

“Having second thoughts?” Ruhn questioned teasingly, stepping away from the stove to interlace your hands together.

“No. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

[ahonice]

Thunder

Thunder - Lana Del Rey

Trevor Zegras x Fem Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: !!!This is a work of fiction, real people in this story are depicted differently then who they truly are!!! Buckle up this one is rough (imo…read note for more context) ANGST, Trevor being a bad boyfriend (I’m sorry, I spun the wheel and he was who it landed on for writing this about like actually I have a wheel to decide who I write about) reader is going through it and cannot catch a break (who can though??) Cursing, drinking (underage, blacking out, drunken confessions) 

Note: This is my favorite Lana song ever, it’s so good (also describes my relationship with my ex PERFECTLY) um so this fic is literally just a telling of my past relationship in fiction form. But new series WHOOP WHOOP more Lana song fics coming soon

*Italics are song lyrics*

***

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Town ain’t been the same since you left with all your friends.”

Trevor Zegras, your alluring, passionate, loving best friend. Trevor Zegras, your manipulative, callous, apathetic boyfriend. 

You met Trevor when he moved to Michigan for hockey, he was sitting in your unassigned, but assigned, seat in your study hall period. You told him, as nice as someone could be at seven in the morning on the first day of classes after break, that he was in your spot and he immediately got up and moved to the spot behind you. Which surprised you, most people would be assholes about that and refuse to move because there wasn’t assigned seating in that class. What didn’t surprise you was that the guy you had moved out of your seat was now bothering you.

“Would you stop talking? This is a study hall, people might be doing work or studying, that’s what this period is for.” You told him, not very quietly making others in the classroom turn towards you. After he kept talking to you, well to the back of your head, about how god knows what. 

“Sorry, it’s just my first day here and I’m a little nervous.” The boy said, ducking his head in shame, immediately making you feel guilty.

“Oh no I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were new here.” You said, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. “Do you want help figuring out where your classes are?” You offered in hopes to make up for embarrassing him. 

“Sure, that would be great” He smiled at you, “I’m Trevor.” 

“Y/n.”

***

The two of you hit it off, instantly becoming friends. You drove to school together, you hung out during your study hall period every morning, you sat together at lunch, you both had after school activities but afterwards you would meet up to work on homework or just hang out together. After a few months Trevor had asked you to be his girlfriend, and everything was going great, until it wasn’t.

Trevor was a year above you in school, having met when he was a junior and you were a sophomore. The gap never was an issue until the last month of his senior year came crashing in, he was moving to Massachusetts for college in August and you were staying in Michigan to finish off your senior year. The talk went well, you were worried that Trevor would want to break up because he was leaving and didn’t want to do long distance, but Trevor made it very clear that was not what he wanted and he was fine with doing distance for a year because he was sure you were going to get into any school you applied to and that meant you could go to school wherever he ended up after the draft. You were happy in the moment, but you later wished he would’ve just ended things with you then.

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Regattas in the wind, that's why you’re visiting.”

The first month of long distance seemed to be going great, over the summer you accompanied him to the draft where he got picked to play for Anaheim. Immediately after the two of you spent time researching schools in California, Trevor freaking out once he realized UCLA was under an hour away from the area where he would be staying. 

The second month of long distance went decent, his hockey season began so he was a bit preoccupied, but that was nothing you weren’t used to he had been playing hockey the whole time you were dating. What you weren’t used to was not being in close proximity with him, even with hockey seasons going on the past two years you still were able to see him after his practices got out, now you had to settle for text messages and the occasional phone call.

The third month of long distance is when it all started going to shit, he had a game against the University of Michigan, which you had attended of course, but there was a weird tension between the two of you. There was no flirting, no secret glances which ended in a fit of giggles once you were caught, no sneaking out of his hotel room to meet up with you, he didn’t even take you out to hangout just you two, he kissed you twice the whole time he was there. When he arrived and when he left, they weren’t even real kisses, just grazing of the lips. After he got back to Boston it was radio silence except for one text message.

From: Trev <3

It was nice to see you this weekend.

It was nice to see you this weekend. No I missed you so much, and I miss you even more now that we’re apart again. No I love you, no plans to visit or even call soon, nothing.

“You act like fucking Mr.Brightside when you’re with all your friends, but I know what you’re like when the party ends.”

By the fourth month of long distance your relationship was no longer a relationship, you texted a couple times a day, basically all being stupid imessage games, the only time you got anything close to a real emotion from Trevor was when he was drunk and he called you, he always called when he was inebriated, but you never liked what he said.

“I miss you, but I can’t do long distance anymore.”

“We aren’t the same anymore.”

“Next year when we’re in California I’m worried things will be different between us.”

“I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Each confession was worse than the one before, you’d always end the phone call telling Trevor to call in the morning to properly discuss your future together when he was sober, but he never did and he never remembered the conversations you’d had, leaving you to deal with the drunken confessions yourself, having to stomach knowing that your boyfriend who you love so much no longer feels the same and he won’t even admit it to you. 

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Everyday you waited for the text, the one where Trevor asked to talk to you. The one that would result in the ending of your relationship, but it never came. It got to the point where you wanted to do it for him, to rip off the bandaid he couldn’t. You knew you would never though, because even if he didn’t love you anymore, you still loved him, and at the end of this all you hoped next year, when you were living near each other again, everything would go back to normal between you two. You wish you weren’t so naive when it came to him, you knew you needed to break up, if not for his sake, for yours. It was taking a toll on you, on your mental health, on your school work, you ended up with a C in one of your classes at the end of your first semester of senior year, you had never gotten anything but an A, let alone a C.

“You roll like thunder, pouring all your drinks. The parties lit and you, my friend, half cut when it begins.”

The drunken confessions didn’t stop, they only got worse.

“I never opened the gift you got me for Christmas.”

“I hooked up with a girl last night.”

“When people ask if I’m single I say I am.”

“I’m doing amazing down here, without you.”

“When are we gonna break up?”

Each new confession was another knife to the heart, but you just sat there on the other side of the line listening to each new piece of information your boyfriend, if you could even call him that, would give you.

“You roll like thunder, you’re tryna catch that wind. That lightning in the bottle, that moonbeam in your hand.”

Senior prom came around, you weren’t surprised when Trevor told you he wasn’t coming. You didn’t blame him, even if your relationship wasn’t a shit show and he still cared about you in the slightest bit he had hockey stuff going on that night, and besides who wants to go to a high school dance after they’ve graduated?

What did surprise you was the phone call you received after you sent him a picture of you all dressed up, hair and makeup professionally done, the dress you saved up for months to buy.

“Hello?” This would be the first time the two of you would talk on the phone since November where Trevor wasn’t drunk.

“You look beautiful.” Whiplash rang through your body, Trevor had complimented you. He hadn’t done that in months, the smile that had grown on your face quickly dimmed when you came to that realization. 

“Trevor, why haven’t you broken up with me yet?” The question coming out of your mouth surprised you. You never thought you would be brave enough to face the reality of your relationship.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” Trevor’s shocked tone of voice riled up your anger. Had he really not been able to pick up on the very obvious changes between the two of you? Was he that apathetic? Could he not tell how much of a toll this was taking on you? Was he even aware of how much you were hurting everyday just by the thought of him.

“We’ll talk later, please don’t drink tonight. I need to have this conversation with my boyfriend–” The words hurt to say, because he wasn’t your boyfriend and he hadn’t been since August, “-not with the drunk asshole he has become.” You hung up before he could say anything in response.

“And you try to see the brightside when each new day begins, but you’re not satisfied at the rainbow’s end.”

To your surprise, Trevor did end up staying sober that night, he waited by the phone for your call for hours, a nice analogy to how you’ve been spending your Saturday nights since you went long distance. You had gone to an after prom party with your friends and had a little too much to drink. You called Trevor, and this time you spoke the drunken confessions that would break your lover’s heart.

“You break me more and more everyday Trevor.”

“You cheated on me, and told me about it like it was no big deal. Do you remember that?”

“Do you remember when you told me you didn’t love me anymore?”

“I got into UCLA, I’m not going. I’m not following you to California.”

“Somehow, after all of this, I still love you.”

“You have to be the one to end our relationship, because I can’t do it.”

You hung up before Trevor could get a word in, hoping that he would take what you said to heart and finally, officially, break up with you.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Trevor didn’t do it. He didn’t break up with you, he told you the next day he was determined to make it work. That he wasn’t giving up without a fight, which made you laugh seeing that he had given up and your relationship ended months ago.

The day of your graduation, you walked the stage and heard cheering from your friends and family. You heard him, you shouldn’t have been shocked that Trevor showed up, you had sent him the details to his ticket the night before, but seeing him and hearing him in person for the first time since the game he played against Michigan in November was enough to have you crying. You ran into his arms, he ran into yours. He whispered apologies in your ears, but they went in one and out the other. This was your swan song, the last time you would be his girlfriend, the last time he would be your boyfriend, the last time you would be in each other’s arms, it was bitter sweet.

“Cause if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, ‘til rain. Baby keep me ablaze. Honey if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, keep me alive. Spare your blade.”

You stayed together, Trevor started acting like the boyfriend you once knew and loved, still loved. But you knew. You knew it was all an act, in august he was gonna move to California to get settled in before preseason and you were moving to Connecticut. You committed to Yale, not UCLA like Trevor had wanted. When you told him you could tell he was upset, he was hoping you would take back what you said to him the night of your prom, he was hoping that you were too drunk to remember you said it and didn’t mean it. Just like you had hoped all those times when he was the one calling you blackedout. 

Anyone around you could tell that your relationship was on its last life, they were shocked you even made it through the school year. You didn’t, but they didn’t need to know that.

It felt like your relationship was the only thing keeping you alive, it was all that kept your flame burning, but all flames die out eventually.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, honey, better walk away. Just do it. Just do it’ don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, baby, better walk away.”

Today was your last night with Trevor, you sat by the fire with him in silence until the final flame went out.

“We need to break up.” You stated, the second the two of you were surrounded by the darkness of the night.

“I know.” Trevor stated, looking at you, but he couldn’t see you. You couldn’t see him, you two were in pitch black darkness. The fire was the only thing providing light, but it was now dead. A cruel metaphor for your now dead relationship.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

***

Note: Hope y’all enjoyed, this gets pretty fucking sad. I’m toning it down a bit though just for the sake of my mental health (idk if I can handle reliving this in full honestly…again fuck you chris) Leave feedback, this one might not be everyone’s favorite but I need to write about my feelings because I’m still torn up about this (once again…fuck you chris) (chris is my exes name if you haven’t put that together yet) (I’m gonna stop spilling my guts to strangers on the internet) (goodbye.) This took two hours to write so it might not be my best work, but I proofread (no editing needed kinda worried about that lol) so I hope this at least a little bit decent. Love y’all babes <3

[sunnyyflowerrs]

Hi! I’m currently starting my first ever jjk fanfic and I’m wondering if you have any advice, specifically related to fanfic writing and not just writing in general. Thank you! :)

(I’m going anon because it’s still a secret lol)

omg hi anon!!! omg you’re writing a fanfic?? that’s going to be so funnn! i’m super flattered you would ask me, but i also just starting writing fics (and writing in general), which means IM still figuring out what works for me and refining my style. so, keep that in mind and take my advice with a grain of salt ;)

so without further ado: sunny’s tips for writing fanfic!! (under the cut bc this will be verbose)

fanfic specific:

1. characterization. know your characters!

one of the best and worst things about fanfiction is that you did not create these characters. this is good because you don’t have to work to create them, and often (esp in jjk) they are very well thought out characters that feel real. but, this can be difficult or frustrating if they start to feel out of character when you write them. it’s important to critically think about their role in the story, how they interact with other characters, and what things they would or would not do. one thing that i’ve found helps when they feel out of character is to rewatch certain clips from the show to see how they talk with others/present themselves or see a relationship dynamic they have with another person.

for example, when i was writing one fic, i really wanted to get megumi and tsumiki’s relationship right. i knew he looked up to her, but it wasn’t blind admiration - that doesn’t make sense with megumi’s character. so i went and watched some of his monologues on her, and found that specifically, he thought of her as a good person, and used her as a moral compass. he believes that the world isn’t a good place because it’s a place that doesn’t allow for the happiness of good people like her. i wove this concept into the fic, which ended up making it feel more authentic to megumi! (at least imo)

2. understanding the world

another double edged sword in fanfic is that you don’t have to write the world! but also, that means you have to understand the world. i’m not talking about cursed energy stuff bc cmon lets be real, no one understands that /j. if you are writing a serious fic or a character study set in canonverse, it’s important to understand the overarching themes of the story, so that if can fit into canon. if its set in an alternate universe (AU) it’s still important to understand the world of canon so that you can translate things into your own universe. a (shameless) example from my own writing is the firefighter au im writing; gojo is a lieutenant because this is the position that directly oversees the detectives (megumi, yuuta, maki, and inumaki), instead of a captain because a liutenant best mirrors a teacher. a captain would be closer to the principal, and any other police administration would be the jujutsu higher-ups. and gojo has the power to be higher up in the hierarchy in both universes, but he chooses to stay down to mentor the students/detectives. i love reading au’s with well thought out world building where things parallel to canon, and its an exercise in creativity and is super fun to both write and read!

general writing tips:

ok i know you said fanfic specific, but i had to sneak these in here briefly bc in some ways they do relate to how to write fanfic

3. read! reading other authors’ voices can help you create your own. currently reading a book series and I like to take things from how she writes and see how that translates into my own voice (my author of choice currently is RF Kuang). this is a work that is edited and published so you know its good quality! this can happen before or during the process of writing the fic. also because its a fic, reading other good fanfics can help you gain ideas on fun tropes or other ideas.

4. show not tell (but you can tell sometimes): this is the boilerplate writing advice that everyone gives, and yes, it does ring true! make sure that you are implying the action, emotion or themes rather than just saying it. however, I’ve noticed that when writing fluff/unserious ones, you can explicitly tell the audience some things. fanfic is a very easy to read format, and though prose and implication can be really pretty and impactful, sometimes the comedic effect is best said just by telling the reader what happened, or just being very real about what’s happen to increase the giggle effect.

ok that was A LOT of yapping, but these are kinda the things i would say to a beginner fic writer! believe in yourself and your ability, you will do GREAT!

once again i am also VERY NEW to writing, so if some of this is common sense to you, you can skip it, but ngl everything is new to me, so take my advice with that in mind!! i could also be wrong on some things so authors can also add stuff in the comments to help

also there is this jjk writers discord im in run by @fluffy-bacon363 , and the writers there are always so helpful and its nice to workshop ideas with them in there!! i think the link is on bacon’s tumblr

thank you for asking and hope this helps!

now that i’m rereading this i just realized you said first jjk fanfic and not fanfic …. so if i got this completely wrong u can send me another ask and i can yap abt jjk fanfic specifically ;)

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 7

New day, new recs for @hprecfest! This one was a bit challenging for me; I admit I prefer to indulge EWE over canon-compliant (nothing against them, I just don’t care for Hinny and Drastoria 🫠) and it took me a second to think of anything beyond the iconic Turn. The rare pair rec was equally hard as so many of my top cross-gen pairs (hello Sirry 🤡) don’t follow the epilogue either. As you can see from the slightly longer blurbs I feel very strongly about the fics I chose - coincidence or not they’re both hidden gems by two popular authors - and I love that I got the perfect excuse to rec them!

Day 7) A canon-compliant fic:

Drarry

The Years That Walk Between by Femme (E, 15k) - past Draco/Snape

Draco finds his way after the war.

this is an oldie and I’ve always wondered why it is underrated on AO3, what with Femme being such a popular author. I can only guess it’s due to the Snaco tag but this side ship (emphasis on past too, Snape is very much dead here) is what makes this fic so unique imo. Draco’s love and pain are quintessential to his arc and to his future encounter with Harry, and I found his grieving journey truly beautiful and moving. for years now this fic has been one of my favourite comfort reads to revisit on a sad rainy day and I hope more readers will find solace too ❤️‍🩹

Rare pair

As We Tremble and We Bleed by @lqtraintracks (Harry/Teddy & minor Ginny/Dean, E, 5.8k)

I notice things. I always have. I’d feel guiltier about what Harry and I are doing if I wasn’t fairly certain Ginny went first.

only this ship to make me read angsty infidelity, ahh bless you lqt ❤️‍🩹 this is a brand new Hardy treat by the Hardy god themselves and let me tell you, lqt writes them like no one. for years now I’ve been obsessed with this kind, lovable Teddy and the way he’s such a good match for helplessly smitten Harry. their chemistry fills my heart and leaves me hanging by a moment: it’s hot and complicated, thrilling and devastating, slutty and tender, edifying and ruining, in the best self-indulgent emotional rollercoaster that only angsty problematique ships can deliver. I feel so lucky that I have one of my favourite authors writing my two favorite ships!

[flameohotwife]

i read growing pains from your kataang explorations series today and i just have to say: WOW! i’ve never felt so much encompassing love in a smut fic before. it was so tender and lovely that i actually felt myself getting emotional!!! you did such an amazing job writing that fic!!!

Anon, I cannot tell you how warm and fuzzy this makes me feel. That fic (and entire series) holds a special place in my heart and it’s been so long since I wrote it that there’s not a lot of engagement on it anymore (natural way of things), so imagine my surprise when I saw this in my inbox! I realize you sent this months ago, and I apologize—I have not been all that engaged in fandom recently, but I still really, really appreciate you reaching out to say that. I also really, really hope that one day I can find the motivation and time to finish that series. I had so much more planned for them.

(I want to add that, while love is certainly not a necessity for smut fic, it would be out of character IMO to read any kataang smut that wasn’t infused with that level of love and care and tenderness. I hope you have since found other similarly—or more—satisfactory smut fics to quench you.)

Thank you so much again for the lovely ask!

[phoebe-delia]

To Come Back (Part 2)

As promised, part 2 to this ficlet. I don't normally like to do sequels to fics without them being able to stand alone but IMO it's good to have some background for this one lol, so I do suggest reading it first.

This is also based on "The Last Time" by Taylor Swift feat. Gary Lightbody.

"I know," Harry sighs. "But I can explain. If you let me."

Draco studies him for a moment, silent. Then, he crosses his arms. "I'm listening."

Harry lets out a breath. “Can I come in? I can make tea.”

Draco allows it; even moves out of the way to grant him access, but waves of both hurt and hope wash over him at watching Harry move easily through the kitchen. He tries to blink back the tears welling in his eyes, but Harry turns to him while the water heats.

Draco catches the moment Harry sees his anguish, watches him move toward Draco on instinct, concern and guilt twisting his features, and Draco can’t.

Harry’s closer now, his hands coming up to offer comfort; a hug, most likely, but Draco swats them away. Pushes him off. Steps back.

“Don’t.” Draco forces through the emotion thick in his throat. “I'll hear you out, but you don’t get to just—I’m not yours to—“ he takes a shaky breath.

Harry jolts back slightly like he's been slapped. “Not mine?” he nearly whispers. “Draco, I know how this looks—”

“How it looks!?” Draco shouts. “You can have your reasons for what happened, Potter, but don’t you dare tell me it’s only how it looks. Don’t you fucking dare. It’s been my life for four months!”

“It’s not like I’ve been on holiday!” Harry finally bursts out. “I came as soon as I could! I did the best I could given the circumstances—please, Draco, I’m sure it was hell for you but you don’t know everything so could you please let me explain before you—”

The kettle whistles, startling them both. Draco wonders if Harry will keep talking, but Harry sighs, anger seemingly deflated. “I’ll get it.”

In short minutes, they’re sitting on the couch, steaming mugs on the coffee table. Draco nervously fiddles with his fingers, and he notices Harry nearly reach out, to soothe him, and Draco half wishes he would. But Harry drops his hands into his lap.

“So,” Draco says. “Talk.”

“The night I left,” Harry starts, “I was up in the kitchen making tea because I couldn’t sleep.”

Draco frowned. “You should’ve woken me up if you were having nightmares.”

Harry shrugs. “It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t want to spoil your sleep over it. I knew I just needed a cuppa and I’d be fine. Except while I waited for it to steep, Robards’s Patronus came through the window.”

Draco scowls. “I thought we talked about this!”

Harry looks at him flatly. “We fought about this, you mean. We hadn’t come to an agreement.”

“We didn’t get the chance to,” Draco replies. “Not before you decided to throw yourself into danger without telling me. Again.”

Harry has the decency to look sheepish, fiddling with the end of the couch cushion. “I know,” he says softly. “You were right. You are right. But if you let me finish, I think you’ll like how the story ends.”

Draco feels something settle in his chest. He nods, and Harry continues.

“He told me it would just be a quick mission. In and out in under 24 hours. But he said to pack a bag just in case. So I left.”

“But your note said—“

“I know what it said.” Harry glances away. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“It said ‘I’m leaving. Sorry. Talk later. -H.’” Draco huffs. “Little did I know how much later it would be.”

“It’s not like I knew, either,” Harry mutters. “I was hiding out in an abandoned warehouse on the other side of the fucking planet waiting for this idiot potions smuggler to show up, only for him to arrive four months after he was expected. I couldn’t Owl or send a Patronus because either could be traced back, and the mission would’ve been blown. I don't even know if Ron and Hermione knew where I was,” his voice cracks a bit.

"They didn't know," Draco says softly. "I realize that now. I asked them, at the time, but I thought they weren't telling me. I thought you'd run off and told them to keep me from knowing where to find you." He closes his eyes, feeling a hot tear run down his cheek.

"Baby, no," Harry nearly whispers, reaching up to gently wipe the stray tears from Draco's face. "I was in hell, missing you like crazy. I was exhausted, frustrated, and, worst of all, far away from home. From you.”

Draco watches breathlessly as Harry closes his eyes and settles himself before he speaks again, his voice tight.

“The only thing that kept me going for that long was knowing it would be the last time I do this. The last time I choose this job over you.” He shakes his head. “Never again."

Draco frowns. “You say that. But what about the next time you get another call in the middle of the night?”

“I'm telling you, it won’t happen again.”

“But you don’t know—“

“The moment I got back to the Ministry, I handed Robards my resignation letter and my badge. Then I came straight here.”

Draco gapes. “What?”

“I quit. I’m done. So fucking done.” He reaches for Draco’s hands, and Draco gives them willingly, even as he trembles. “I'm sorry, Draco. I'm so sorry for what I put you through—what I put us both through. I can't undo the last four months, but I can tell you that I spent every night dreaming of what I'd do when I came back to you."

Harry holds out an arm and mutters a quiet Accio, summoning a small box from the pocket of his bag. He lets go of Draco's hands for a moment and opens the box with a quiet snap. He presents it to Draco, who gasps at the silver ring propped up inside.

"We'll never have that time back. But if you give me this—the gift of your hand, your heart, your time for the rest of our lives—I promise to never let you wake up to a note and an empty house ever again."

Harry reaches for his hand again, and Draco lets him have it easily, watching in awe as Harry presses a kiss to his knuckles. "Marry me," he murmurs against Draco's skin. "Please."

Draco manages to wrench out a tight-voiced "Yes!" from his throat. Harry's face melts with joy and relief as he slips the ring onto Draco's finger and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. They pull back only a few inches to slot their lips together, holding onto each other like the other might slip away.

It's far from their first kiss, but something about it feels pivotal and permanent. Draco lets himself sink into it, lets time tick away and their tea get cold, while outside, the last of the purple-pink sunset melts into the night.

[blitheringmcgonagall]

Oh my GOOOOOD, your additions to the Peter Pettigrew meta were so well-written, it was almost like reading a fic in and of itself. I was a bit terrified and definitely disturbed by the time you got to the end of the timeline. Really brought into full view for me exactly how fascinating and truly...evil? his whole arc is.

And I deeply appreciate your position on him truly being one of the Marauders, not this cast off that none of them really liked. I know I've been so guilty in the past of having him sort of be the throw-away Marauder, even in my Hogwarts-era fics, but I really want to write and read more fics where he's as much a member of the group as the others are...

Oh! And you brought up so many facts that spoke to how calculated his decisions were, both in the Marauder's Era and Trio Era, which directly oppose his own claim that he did it all because Voldemort would have killed him... Do you think he used people's view of him as a coward to his benefit, and actually was much more of a manipulator than he ever appeared in the books? It seems clear now that there were a lot of other factors for him beyond fear, so he was probably just using the excuse that he thought would work best for him in the moment (speaking specifically about the scene in the Shack in PoA) - and this excuse wasn't really the truth, or at least, not the whole truth... Just, wow, yeah, I don't know how I'd never seen before that he's obviously so much more than a coward, if he's even really a coward at all.

Ah, so sorry for rambling at you about this 😅 I'm just so intrigued by this whole discussion and can tell you've thought about it a lot! 💚

Thank you so much!!! This is the post you are referring to and I’m so happy you liked it! I honestly have thought about this a lot because I was forced to when I was writing my canon marauders fic we can be heroes?

The fact he was spying for Voldemort for a full year before Lily and James were murdered is incredible… as he was watching baby Harry growing older, meeting his fellow Order members, going to their funerals, simultaneously passing on details and getting them killed, one by one… chilling stuff!

The reasons are fascinating and possibilities endless. I picked fear as one reason but actually jealousy and self-preservation more importantly for him?

And even that isn’t enough of an explanation? Yes fear was a definite big motivator but out of all of Voldy’s pure blood fanatic bigoted Death Eaters, why did HE willingly (under no duress) travel to the forests of Albania on his own to find Voldemort? He could have just disappeared and lived as a rat anywhere in the UK. Or as a pretend-muggle anywhere in Europe, or even escaped to the US or Canada?

I think we all casually accepted how many people Pettigrew directly and indirectly killed? The Order members he betrayed, James and Lily, the twelve Muggles he killed by blowing up the street with an extremely powerful curse (“which created a crater large enough that the sewer pipes were showing”), he caused Bertha Jorkins to get permanent brain damage (and then Voldemort killed her), he killed Cedric…

I’m not sure how she-who-must-not-be-named wrote him. She describes him constantly as weak and fawning, “hero worshipping” James and Sirius according to Prof McGonagall who thought he was stupid (he clearly wasn’t). JK writes him as terrified of Voldy and cringing practically every time we see him after Voldy returns. She implies it’s all due to fear but that doesn’t add up imo.

Peter had a miserable life after Halloween 1981, living as a rat for 12 years, then being treated like shit by Voldy and co who all clearly despised him. Maybe he found some solace hanging out with the Golden Trio in Hogwarts’ Gryffindor Common Room again, reminding him of happier times as a teenager before the war, when he had best friends? (Although surely reminded of his misdeeds, all the time, by Harry who looks the spitting image of James but with Lily’s eyes and her sass?)

He wanted to win. To be on the side of the winning team, untouchable, protected - as he once was in school by his fellow marauders.

I thought maybe the reason he went to such great lengths, of his own accord, why he so desperately wanted to bring back Voldy and have the Death Eaters win, is that at least he’ll be then able to tell himself it was all worth it (the betrayals, the deaths on his conscience, the life as a rat). That maybe Voldy and his wix will finally respect him? Because if Voldy loses, then all his godawful life will have been for what? For nothing?

[precious-little-scoundrel]

how is ida and rosie’s sex life given that ida was raped but rosie would technically also be her “first”?

and was maureen raped? i dont think she was like it wasn’t mentioned that i caught but then again maybe they all were? Can you go into detail about what maureen’s tortures/punishments were in the “prestigious female camp?”

Ah, ok, thank you for asking! I intend to remain nebulous in the actual fics except for a few specific blurbs. For two reasons:

In my opinion I think it feels more realistic to the times and helps it read more like a narrative of these women to not be graphically detailed. Except in the case of Ida who will give a detailed deposition, which will become a fic of its own.

Now, as I realize lots of readers may not wish to read those gruesome details, when I do write such things it’ll be in fairly isolated fics and so everyone won’t be missing anything besides those details -and a little Rosie x Ida backstory. I don’t think everyone would appreciate it being intermingled consistently.

Secondly: some of this trauma in story telling is better left vague to evoke general emotions, imo.

However, for asks? I love clarifying...

TW BELOW: RAPE, SEXUAL VIOLENCE

First off Maureen -yes, in my canon she was. Specifically mentioned that someone stood on her hands while someone else did it. Personally I like to think she scrapped hard and probably bit some fingers off. Perhaps she was considered too much trouble for repeat attacks. But yes, she was raped. And to keep accurate to those poor Soviet Female Officers, most of these girls probably were subjected to the same. Hence why the majority were asking Ida about accidental pregnancies from it.

Ida and Rosie— it’s better and worse in that this man knows everything that happened to her. Every gruesome detail, thanks to her deposition. It both gives her comfort and vulnerability around him, it instills in him heaps of patience and protectiveness. He’s a nurturing sort anyways, and he enjoys her companionship, you bet that he would be devoted to this woman even though it takes ages for her to be comfortable with much of anything.

I do think Ida becomes pretty enamored with kissing, she’s never done it before really and Rosie is no fumbling prom date, he’s a sensuous man who cherishes his plane’s wings -how much more the shell of his lover’s soul?! I think it’s many years before they fully consummate their marriage, there were times she thought she was ready and yet -never underestimate what can trigger trauma, even if your rational mind wants a thing, try telling that to your psyche. Rosie in many ways has a more realistic expectation of how long and slow it might take, and he’s willing to actively wait and love her through it.

Eventually they do have a happy and very deep sexual bond due to the very contrast of trauma and gentle specialness of Robert being her first.

[averseunhinged]

klaroline fic rec friday #1, i guess? meant to start this up for months, but i'm verbose, and time management is hard.

fine china and dull silver by @yespumpkindoodlesthings

in my dotage, i've been less into the constant hardcore angst consumption of my youth and have pivoted slightly toward fluff. but i'm super picky and it can't be fluff for fluff's sake. like my favorite characters are usually some level of The Worst, and if they're going to gently bake a cake, it has to be a murder cake. if you know what i mean.

this is one of my favorite secret good blorbo fics in this fandom, as well as being a secret good season six. pumpkin doodles is great at a lot of things, but they're especially good at maintaining a certain level of assholery even while fluffing up the place. klaus and caroline are very sweet together in this, but they're still klaus (a complete dick, but he's trying) and caroline (anxious and overcompensating, but she's learning). they're filled with a lot of love, even as they power through some of the major plot points of s6.

it jumps off from friendsgiving, which was the point where i too was like oh fuck this show. it just felt like such a regression to s2 for caroline after her s5 character arc. she came so far and learned so much and suddenly we're back to the menfolk discussing whether she deserves to be loved despite her sin of, like, having some level of expectations for the people in her life.

as for klaus, his TO storylines are cleaned up pretty tidily at the beginning in a way that feels relatively natural without putting anyone through all of that. you understand his problems aren't gone, but having caroline around, someone whose moral compass he actually trusts, goes a long way with him.

and the rest of the ensemble is great, too. everyone still has their foibles (elijah is stiff, damon is irreverent, hayley doesn't care about anyone who isn't designated as pack/family, stefan lacks self awareness, etc.), but it's easy to swallow. everyone is still awful in their own ways, but it feels pleasant to read.

it also touches on the idea that caroline could be devastated that stefan would abandon her without having romantic feelings for him. he's her best friend. he saved her from all the people she should have been able to trust, but who wanted to kill her for something that wasn't her fault. he had faith in her and she put her faith in him. and the previous two times he disappeared off the face of the planet, it was because he was actively being harmed and came back all the worse off for it. it would be soul crushing to find out he gave up on her while she worried about him constantly. that's a much more interesting story,imo, than the watered down side romance it became.

small spoilers under the jump

my favorite part is when caroline figures out that she can't follow through on the impulse to turn her humanity off, because there's someone in her life who very much needs her to be present, who loves her and is notorious for holding onto the people he cares about so hard it can crush them.

“I can tell when you’re actually terrified,” she said. “You want me to stay because if I go off the rails, you go off the rails?”

“Something like that,” he said, noncommittally. He wasn’t going to tell her that he thought it would be uniquely dangerous if both of them abandoned Caroline’s moral code.

“Which makes me responsible for your behavior,” Caroline said. 

“Someone has to be responsible for me,” he said. “Elijah’s really given up--and you’re so much more talented and energetic than he is, really.” She started to laugh and then her laughter turned to rough sobbing. He pulled the car over and wrapped his arms around her. 

“I’m your tower of strength, huh?” Caroline said, through tears.

“Yes,” Klaus said quietly. “I need you.”

“I didn’t think anybody really needed me,” Caroline said.

he won't abandon her and he needs her to not abandon him, even when it would be easier, maybe even kinder in a way to let her turn it off.

[monsterrae1]

12 days of fandom joy

Created by @mostlyinthemorning

Rules: everyday for 12 days in December, choose a fandom work from any fandom from 2023 that you loved. It can be anything you like (a gifset, a drabble, fanart, a fic or just a post that made you laugh) Reblog the post and add comment or tags about why you love it. Tag your post with #12 days of fandom

✨day 12✨

If I lay here, would you lie with me (forget the world)

By @hoodie-buck | explicit | 90.4k

“Does this story have a point?” Eddie questioned, Lena narrowing her eyes at him.

“This guy, my sort of friend—what if he could watch Chris for you?”

Eddie furrowed his brows together. “You want me to leave my kid who’s halfway across the country with some—stranger?”

“It beats having him sent home to your parents, right?”

Well, she had a point there.

Eddie shook his head, overwhelmed with his thoughts.

“Look, I appreciate it Bosko, but I just—I don’t know. This is my kid we’re talking about.”

“I know that, and I know how much you love him. Hell, you’ve sent me ten plus emails when I was watching him for you.”

Eddie looked to where there was a line coming out of their commanders office. He turned to Lena, giving his full attention.

“Alright, tell me about this friend of yours.”

—or—

The one where Eddie’s in the army, Shannon gives up her rights to Chris, and Eddie needs a babysitter. Good thing Lena knows Buck, the guy having nothing better to do than help babysit until Eddie gets back. Eddie would come home, and he would leave; it wasn’t like they were going to build some lifetime friendship or anything.

💚♥️ I know how hard Kels worked on this fic, and it was literally her baby and it’s amazing, truly one of her best works imo and im sure it’s going to become one of those fics that everyone in the fandom needs to read ♥️💚

[lightparty-fullparty]

BACK ON THE WIKI AGAIN because where else am I supposed to be when trying to write a fic - this time on Yotsuyu’s page because I wanted to try and work out like, her personal event timeline.

So her age on the wiki is 32, I am assuming this means she is 32 by the time you are going through Stormblood, and so she was 7 when Doma was conquered by Garlemald. Since it’s been 25 years since then by the time the Scions get around to visiting.

Now I don’t think it’s mention at all when her parents died, or how. Just that they did, and she had to go and live with her shitty Aunt and Uncle and Cousin. Given that Yostuyu doesn’t seem to have memeories of her parents - I am using the fact that during the Tsukiyomi trial, Gosetsu is the only person who appears during the memory sequence that is a positive memory for her, so assumedly that means Yotsuyu doesn’t remember her original parents. Otherwise they would have a larger impact on her (imo at least) - So this would make me think they died when she was very young, and Yotsuyu has basically been living with her Aunt since she can remember.

Now, my next question is how old is she supposed to be in Echo vision you get during the lead up to Doma Castle, the one from the Garlean Soilder with young Yostuyu in it. She can’t still be 7, because it’s implied that Garlemald has a very establish position as the new rulers of Doma at this point. A census has been taken recording the members of every family in Doma, as a point is made that Yotsuyu wasn’t included on the original records by her Aunt (on purpose).

I don’t know about you but I doubt even Garlemald would have been able to organise that and establish themselves so quickly. So I reckon it’s another several years down the line.

Asahi is 27 according to the wiki - so following similar thoughts he would have been 25 when Doma fell and he is DEFINETLY not 2 years old in that flashback. Since he’s beeing approached about going to Garlemald and recieveing an imperial education, I’m going to estimate he’s possibly 8-10 years old, making Yostuyu 13-15. I’m leaning towards the lower end of that scale given that Edda is supposed to be 16 and using an adult Hyur model, so 15 doesn’t seem quite right given Yostuyu is using the child model.

Given as well that she says Asahi was the one to suggest marrying her off to a rich nobelman, it would have had to have been done before he left for Garlemald. So given that lowball estimate for her age, she was 13 when it happened. (6 years after Doma fell - and well before the Rebellion so it was still ‘ruled’ by Lord Kaien.)

Again there’s no mention of hold long she was in her shitty marriage before her husband died, but I’ll wager several years and assume she was maybe 16/17 when it happened. At which point she was sold off again to the brothels.

The rest is documented decently enough by the game that I don’t feel a great need to decipher the mystery of it all. But for my purposes the TLDR is;

Yostuyu’s parents died when she was very young. Young enough for her to have zero memories of them. Good or Bad.

She lived with her Aunt and saw Doma fall at age 7. At age 13/14 she was sold off to Sashihai (the shitty nobel).

At age 16/17 Sashihai died and Yostuyu was sold again to the brothels. where she worked her way into a position of influence and was approached by Garlemald to become an imperial spy.

And I still don’t understand why the wiki says her eyes are yellow when to me they’re pretty clearly a pale blue-grey?

This just does not read as yellow to me I’m sorry. Flashback is also super blue to me idk what to tell you here.

[loonatic-moon]

Akikiryu anon from before. It's a shame that you don't get feedback much on them! Again, they're amazing! I guess we really are a rare breed given how little I see Akikiryu anything out there. Hell, I feel like there's a criminal lack of Akiyama focused fics period! but I digress.

PLEASE RGG! Let our boy do this. It's SUCH a perfect premise for him. I've seen people say that an Akiyama focused Gaiden wouldn't work bc "what do you do with him? "They were already struggling to find reasons for him to be around in 5" It's this!

And Akiyama meeting Ichiban? That'd also be great. I've always felt that out of all the pre-7 characters, Akiyama fits the whole "team combat" thing the best. He's always teaming up with someone else. I think the only protagonist he hasn't teamed up with directly is Saejima iirc. He's even teamed up with Majima in Dead Souls! He's even Ichiban's ally in RGG Online! Kinda crazy they haven't met in mainline canon. He just translates so naturally into it, even if the other games have shown us that he can easily hold his own and doesn't necessarily need allies.

Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read and answer all this and the last ask! I know they're kinda long. <3

No you’re right and you should say it— it’s comparatively slim pickings in general for Akiyama fans. His absence in Y7 didn’t help, as I think there is also something to be said for when (in terms of game releases) he is introduced, and what game is your entry point into the series. I sorta hoped Ishin might spur some more fics, but alas…

I was crazy enough to start with Y5, so that was my Akiyama intro. While in hindsight I see what people mean about Akiyama being a bit tacked on, his appearance coincided with where the game’s plot imo REALLY picked up in a good way. I didn’t know shit about him at the time but got 100% hooked on his bisexual uncle-dad “who the hell is this guy?” energy. lmao

Which is to say YEAH, I think there’s plenty to where he could absolutely could carry his own game! When I played the Judgment games, I thought back to Y5 and - purely speculative tbf - wondered if Akiyama wasn’t something of a prototype for Yagami’s character. I think sleuthing, being wicked smaht, and sticking his nose into trouble really fits Akiyama well, too and could be a proven basis to work with.

And for him to NOT have a role in exposing the Daidoji just seems like…a big obvious miss to me. Still, I think I’m at the point now though where I’ll take any new Akiyama content I can get. Also new Hana content. Did she ever come back from countryside oblivion?? Tell us, RGG…

No worries about being lengthy, I love your thoughts on all of this! It’s refreshing to know there are fans having some like-minded thoughts on the possibilities out here. And if RGG doesn’t deliver on some of this then, well…I’ll guess I’ll fire up my keyboard again!

[knightofsuperior]

You Gotta Party Hearty

Fandom: Fate/Zero, Hellsing Ultimate Abridged

Summary:

Kariya Matou doesn't summon his expected Berserker in the Fourth Holy Grail War. Instead, he gets a wild dog without a leash, sporting an Andrew W.K. mixtape.

Read the fic here and check out an excerpt/my thoughts below!

Excerpt:

A vampire. A blood-sucking, ghoul creating, pants-wettingly terrifying vampire. This wasn’t good. Well, it wasn’t before, what with Rider deciding to go and advertise himself to the other parties in the War. But this was just plain, flat, good-old-fashioned bad. Waver backed up as far as he could in Rider’s chariot, and even the man’s steeds seemed startled by the revelation. Rider, for his part, appeared more bemused than anything else. “Really, now? I can’t think of many vampires in the Throne of Heroes, save one...would you happen to be-” “Ah, ah, ah,” Berserker interrupted, wagging one of his fingers (the middle one, Saber noted with disgust) in response. “You can’t just say who I am, it ruins half the fun!” “You literally just said his name a minute ago,” Lancer argued, his spears aimed squarely at Berserker’s chest. “Well, yeah, but he shouted it to the heavens! He wants to put a target on his back,” Berserker shrugged, twirling one of his guns for effect, “Or his face, or any other part of his admittedly rugged form, that’s on him.” “That begs the question, then-how did you know of where we hailed from, Berserker?” Saber asked, gaze narrowed. “I doubt you’re the type for research, unless it involves showboating.” “Well, gee, I wonder,” Berserker replied, strolling back towards Saber and Lancer. “How could I ever tell where the knight with the overgrown pool noodle and the knight with the multicolor rave sticks came from, especially when they talk in the thickest possible accents despite each and every one of us talking in goddamned Japanese?” The two kept their weapons drawn as he walked in between and past the two. “It’s a fucking mystery, that’s for sure.” “I don’t quite like your tone,” Lancer grumbled. “I don’t quite like him, period,” Saber added through gritted teeth. “Really? I guess you can put that on your shit list with “sleeves” and “not sticking your dick in crazy" respectively, I suppose.”

Author's Note: This one holds a special spot in my heart for letting me have the chance to explore a wilder, more raunchy style of writing than I usually get up to. I thought that the dynamic of the more free-wheeling Abridged Alucard would make for a fun contrast to both Kariya Matou--himself a fascinating exploration of What Not to Do in an Evil Wizard War, imo--and the other Servants. I leaned a little too hard, in hindsight, on direct Abridged references and pop culture elements...but to be fair, the same might be said for a lot of abridged series in themselves, so maybe it was just the natural vibe.

I had an ending in mind for this, but over the years (with inspiration ebbing and flowing), I've for now decided to leave it as is. Maybe I'll return someday. That's for fate to decide.