#i might clean this up and add things to make it into a real fic im not sure yet

[gentil-minou]

When I was deep in a feverish haze all I could think about was Wei Wuxian's first illness post golden core transfer because cultivators never get sick so when wwx does for the first time he's absolutely awful at it.

Like he's walking around lotus pier trying to pretend he's fine but he's stumbling into walls and almost walks off the deck into the lake at some point. And of course everyone just thinks he's drunk or something cause cultivators don't get sick and wwx goes with it and laughs it all off, pretending he's hungover and absolutely fine, until he ends up shivering in bed until shijie brings him soup with a concerned look in her eyes he refuses to acknowledge.

When he gets better he cracks jokes and pretends it was nothing and hides his lingering cough in his sleeve.

With the Wens it's only a little bit better bc they do know about his core and Wen Qing is a doctor and can help him, but you see wwx can't lie down and rest how can he when there's so much he has to do?

He works as hard as he can, making sure to lift everything for granny even though his body aches and using all his energy to keep A-Yuan happy and distracted, in between moments of clearing resentment, all until he passes out in the middle of an empty path with no one around to see him fall.

Eventually Wen Ning finds him and carries him back wei wuxian wakes up to Wen Qing forcing some awful broth made of scraps of meat and yelling at him to go to sleep and rest. But of course the moment they're all asleep for the night he goes back to work. He can't rest there's no time, even as his head pounds and his body screams and the sickness eats away at his insides as the resentment does the same. There's no time for rest.

Post canon the first time Wei Wuxian gets sick he falls into a old habits and doesn't tell anyone, just continues puttering about and acting fine, distracting the juniors during their lessons and hanging off Lan Zhan's shoulders to tease him while he works.

But of course Lan Wangji notices the way his husband sways more than just with his usual dramatic swagger, and how he keeps shoving his favorite foods away saying he's not hungry as he rubs at his throat.

The final straw is when Wei Wuxian says he's too tired for their everyday but then plays it off as a joke at the look of concern Lan Zhan gives himso they do it anyways. And even tho Lan Zhan is tender and slow tonight Wei Wuxian still passes out from shear exhaustion before either have even finished

Lan Wangji has a moment of panic, thinking he broke his husband but then connects the dots...

When wwx wakes up he's smothered by their warmest blankets and wearing lwj's softest underrobe (because when A-Yuan was sick he liked to wear the robe too for the comforting smell and warmth). He looks around groggy and half asleep calling for his Lan Zhan, feeling bereft and confused.

He's about to get up and find him himself, even though the thought of getting up makes him feel dizzy when lwj comes back and glides to wwx's side with a bowl of congee that has just a hint of red in it. Wei Wuxian teases him about "there must be a rule about breakfast in bed Lan Zhan" and tries to get to his feet, but Lan Wangji pushes him down gently murmuring, "Rest, Wei Ying."

And suddenly its like the Jingshi has melted away replaced with the jagged stone walls of a familiar cave because Wei Wuxian you see he can't rest, there's things to do and people need him and he has to be strong he can't just rest he isn't allowed and what about the Wens he needs to get up he cant just lie here he needs to save them and he cant breathe and his head is going in awful circles and it feels like something is clawing its way out of him and he has to go do something and fix something, until Lan Wangji pulls him onto his lap and starts humming their song as he rubs soothing circles along wwx's back. And even though wwx's breaths are still coming out in terrified waves as his eyes dart around for some unseen threat, despite it all he starts to relax little by little to the sound of his Lan Zhan’s familiar baritone.

When he finally calms down enough he realizes he's been crying, blubbering like a baby leaving disgusting snot stains in the illustrious Hanguang-jun's robes and he tries to wipe them them away before Lan Zhan sees but lwj just holds his face between two hands with the most softesr care, his expression open and honest in a way it only ever is for Wei Ying, and he just keeps humming nonsense and nursery rhymes as he kisses wwx's tear tracks away. And tho wwx still can't stop crying lwj doesn't say anything, doesn't chide or lecture or tell him anything, just holds wwx and lets the smell of sandalwood wrap a comforting and warm embrace around wwx.

Eventually wwx does drift off and he comes to still huddled against lwj's chest, a lovely spot of drool right over his husband's brand and heart, as he reads a book about dual cultivation. It's past midday now and wwx asks about Lan Zhan's duties, fiddling with the edge of his forehead ribbon.

But Lan Wangji simply says, "Wei Ying is most important" and kisses his forehead and goes back to his book.

And Wei Wuxian burrows back into his husbands chest as if he tried hard enough he could carve a hole and bury himself besides Lan Zhan's heart forever, and pretends the flush he feels is from the fever.

They spend the next 2 days like that, with lwj guiding wwx back down to rest whenever the anxiety tries to make him feel bad and then comforting him through it all, kindly never pointing out the way every so often tears start to fall silently down wwx's face when he gets to thinking too much and even more kindly not pointing out the awful inelegant sound of wwx's honking wet coughs.

At some point Sizhui even visits, bringing an attempt at lotus rib soup using what Wen Ning remembers. It's not quite the same but it's more than enough and finally Wei Wuxian feels his shivers subside completely.

When Wei Wuxian wakes up on the 3rd day, well rested in a way he's never felt after being ill, he immediately jumps his husband and smothers his face in exuberant kisses that make Lan Wangji smile his special Wei Ying smile.

And although no one says anything Wei Wuxian knows deep within his gifted bones that from now on whenever he falls ill, there will always be someone to catch him.

(Orignally a threadfic here)

[wannab-urs]

Carry Me

This is a request fill for @atinylittlepain <3

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x student therapist!reader

Summary: You’re overwhelmed. Being a student at a very rigorous university and interning as a therapist for the local DV clinic is all getting to be too much. You’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown for real, but Dieter is there to lighten some of the burden.

Warnings/Content: hurt/comfort, a rare non smut fic, general anxiety and frustration about being a student therapist, Dieter being kind of an idiot, brief mention of SA and DV (literally just the acronyms, no description whatsoever), Dieter is able to pick you up, Dieter calls you Shrink and baby, you and Dieter are roughly the same age, brief mention of oral f!receiving, no use of Y/N, WC: ~1200

Notes: Thank you so much to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @theywhowriteandknowthings for the beta read <3 Love y'all bunches. I was so excited to write this fic AHHH

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

But you can carry me / I’m not heavy / I’ll grow extra arms / To hold onto your body Dig my fingernails / Into your shoulder / And you’re so steady /And you don’t tip over - Carry Me by Crooks and Nannies

You get home and look up at the stairs which have quite possibly never felt so daunting as they do right now. You had class from 8 this morning until noon, a 30 minute break in which you scarfed down some trail mix you found in your car and drove to the clinic, and then an extremely emotionally draining 4 hours of leading group SA and DV survivor therapy sessions followed by another 2 hours of paperwork. 

So now, roughly 12 hours after you left your apartment, you’re standing at the bottom of your stairs, feeling weighed down by your bag and by your life in general and dreading what you might find at the top. 

When you finally do make it upstairs, slip the key into the lock, push the door open, you’re desperately (delusionally) hoping to find a clean apartment. Maybe he cooked you dinner? Maybe he cleaned the living room and lit a candle? Maybe the bed is made and the laundry is put away? 

Of fucking course not. 

Dieter is sitting upside down on the couch, feet in the air and his head dangling off the cushion. He’s got a paintbrush in his teeth and a canvas propped against the coffee table. There’s a pile of laundry in the corner by the bed, dishes stacked precariously in the sink… 

“Dieter. What the fuck are you doing?” He drops the paintbrush from his teeth and you watch it clatter across the hardwood. Add paint on the floor to the pile of bullshit being heaped onto you today. 

“Painting!” He looks positively gleeful for a moment, but then he takes in your sagging shoulders, your wobbling lip, the way your eyes glint with tears. “Shrink? Baby, you okay?” Dieter does a surprisingly agile maneuver, rolling off the couch and onto his feet just as your chest starts heaving and the tears start to spill over. 

He crosses the room quickly, takes your bag and sets it on the floor of the entryway, wraps his big arms around you and pulls you into his chest. You crumple into him, letting him finally take your weight. He buries his nose in your hair, cradles your head to his chest and supports you with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Broken sobs and gasps for air are all you can manage, but he doesn’t ask you questions. He just whispers that everything is going to be okay, that he loves you, that you’re so strong. 

After a few minutes, you’re more sniffling than sobbing, and he grabs your face in his big hands. He swipes away a few tears, presses a kiss to your lips. You squirm away “Dieter I’m all snotty!”

“I don’t care, Shrink,” he kisses your tear streaked cheeks, your now fluttering eyelids, your forehead, then he sweeps you off your feet, picking you up bridal style. You shriek and stifle a giggle. 

“Oh my god, Dee, put me down,” you yell, trying to contain your giggles. 

“Sure thing, baby!” He dumps you on the couch, grabs his fluffy brown coat off the table and wraps it around your shoulders, sinks to his knees and pulls your sneakers off for you. He goes to the bed and pulls your favorite blanket from the tangled pile and tosses that over you too. “Here’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Di-”

“Nope, you’re listening to me, for once.” You roll your eyes and throw your head back into the soft velvet cushion of the couch. “I’m gonna make you a cup of tea, okay? You’re gonna drink the tea and you’re gonna make a list.” 

“A list?” You arch your eyebrow at him, a skeptical look in your eye.

“A list. You’re gonna write down everything you need to do for school AND everything you want to do this week. When you finish that, you’re gonna make a list of ways you can cut your workload. Can you do that for me, shrink?” You start to nod, but then you catch a glimpse of the laundry. 

“Dee the house–”

“Nope! That’s my problem, okay? Focus on your list. Tell me when you’re done.” He drops another kiss on top of your head and gets your bag for you, laying it on the table before running off to the kitchen. 

You pull out your journal and start making his stupid list and a few minutes in, he brings you tea, just the way you like it and in your favorite mug. He puts on a record at low volume and you can hear the water running in the sink. Dieter Bravo is doing the dishes. You never thought you’d see the day. 

You finish the first list of all the things you need to do for school and add Write and Watch a movie to the bottom for the things you would do if you ever had the fucking time. Dieter appears in front of you, reading your list upside down. 

“Knew you could do it, shrinky dink.” 

“Please stop calling me that.” 

“No. Now what can you do to reduce your workload?” He heads over to the bed and starts making it while you talk. 

��I could take this class as pass/fail instead of for a grade…” Your face pulls into a grimace at the thought.

“And why do you sound like that makes you want to die a little?” He says as he wrangles the sheet back onto the bed. 

“Because it feels like failing. Or cheating? I don’t know, D! Gina will hate me for it.” You toss your journal onto the coffee table and burrow into Dieter’s coat a little more. 

“Ok first of all, that woman adores you, but also,” he trails off as he focuses on stuffing a pillow back into its case. He sleeps like a tornado. “Also! There has to be something else you can do. Is your internship mandatory?” 

“I need to do it!” you drag your hands down your face and bang your head repeatedly into the soft cushion behind you. 

“Can you reduce your hours?” He’s next to you now, plopping down on the couch and pulling you over to sit across his lap. 

“Technically?” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, drape yourself over him and soak in his warmth, his steadiness. 

“Then that’s what you’re gonna do. And tonight, we’re gonna watch a movie. And then I’m gonna toss you onto our freshly made bed and I’m gonna eat you out til you’re so delirious you couldn’t think about your ‘workload’ if you tried.”

“What about the laundry?” 

“It can wait.” He kisses you softly again. You make an exasperated noise, but you let him grab the remote, pull up Netflix, put on a movie. You let him cradle you and kiss you.

Dieter isn’t perfect. He’s messy and forgetful and can’t hold down a job to save his fucking life. But he’s steady, soft, comforting. He’s understanding and kind and silly and a little bit brilliant.

You know that when everything gets too much for you to carry, he can carry you. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hey thanks for accepting this ask. So what I wanted to ask is how the amazing digital circus crew would react to a reader who's a strong hero...that's incredibly optimistic, dense and Guilable thinking that the world acts like a cartoon/comic sometimes

TADC cast x comic hero type reader!

meant to start knocking out these last two requests earlier this morning but i had to clean up the house a bit; but im finally getting onto it! reminder that requests are currently closed and any requests sent in will not be answered and will be deleted to keep the inbox clean; so please keep your requests until i announce theyre open again! plan on taking a day or two off to rest my brain n back as well as catching up on art and my own personal fic. the requests being answered currently were sent in prior to requests closing with that said, i hope you enjoy this anon!!

CAINE:

honestly i think caine would be the same way, not exactly but i think he would some of the cluelessness in terms of how the real world works... except its mostly with the non digital real world; call it inexperience or something! lets you play hero during the IHA.. honestly you kind of fit right in with your personality, with tropes and being a stereotypical comic book hero, if not a little naïve. pretends he doesnt recognize you when you walk around in your "citizens disguise"

likes coming up with villain npcs for you to fight during adventures

POMNI:

initial confusion when she sees you just walking around with a tie plastered to your chest, asks you what its for as well as dropping your name. even more shocked that youre shocked that she knows who you are. kind of just accepts this is a thing you do and doesnt question it, especially as she settles into the digital world.. at least youre handy during IHA.. i think during my little break i might try to figure out how i wish to right pomni because i really do wish i made her stuff more... interesting

RAGATHA:

honestly i think she would make you stuff to add to your disguise. doesnt want to shatter the illusion for you so she just tries to casually give you stuff out of the kindness of her heart... which isnt... totally wrong.. honestly i dont think she would try to change you or bring up the bad disguise thing so long as its not somehow putting you in danger. in fact i think she finds your whole hero personality endearing, you guys are both optimistic and its nice to be around someone who isnt just. losing their marbles or being a dick.. plus, you arent technically wrong to view the digital world as a cartoon, i mean, look at it and look at the physics of the world and all

JAX:

oh he is going to be a menace, probably makes a joke villain persona to mess with you only for you to immediately gun for him and deal with his "evil antics",, i mean hey as long as jax doesnt put his silly little villain mask back on you wouldnt suspect a thing... maybe... i think he would roll his eyes at some of the things you say, since youre way more optimistic and out there than ragatha... probably uses your gullible..ness... as a means to trick you

KINGER:

honestly the "as a royal myself" line he dropped in the pilot makes me think that at some level he believes himself to be a real king; or maybe he was just REALLY playing into his whole theming and he knows hes just some dude but was trying to appeal to the gloink queen... what im trying to say is that i think there might actually be a solid chance he fully leans into your hero thing, and perhaps even falls for your disguise (if him constantly forgetting gangle is standing right next to him says anything about his observation skills and/or mental state)

ZOOBLE:

similar to jax but also not. finds your optimism a little too much sometimes; especially if youre very outwardly social and friendly so its not like you swoop in to do your hero duties but you also stop to talk to the 'civilians' of the circus.. though unlike jax they wouldnt try to trick you, nor do i think they would exactly be mean to you. a little irritable by your energy and attitude, maybe, but i think zooble gets irritated by almost everyone in the circus.. reluctantly plays along with your disguise

GANGLE:

i think she would be into it, probably draws you in your non-disguise outfit. you get fanart, yay! probably similar to pomni in the whole, just accepts how you are both as a person and with your antics, but i think she just accepts everything everyone else does! not much to say, shes a fan of it and if you stand up for her when jax is mean thats just an added bonus for her

[pascaloverx]

Strangers?

Part Two

previous part next part

Author's note: This fanfic is set in the creation of Jenny Han. Conrad Fisher and other characters mentioned in the future do not belong to me. I hope you like this fanfic, depending on how it goes, I'll decide if this fic will have more parts or just this one. This fanfic is recommended for all audiences, there will be no adult content in it, only possible inappropriate language and alcohol consumption.

You arrive at the beach some time later, and you realize you might have dozed off on Conrad's shoulder. Embarrassment washes over you, and you quickly move away.

"Tell me you didn't hear me snoring…" You know there's a real chance he heard your snoring or that you drooled on his jacket. Great first impression.

"You know, you do this funny thing with your nose when you're sleeping. And if you want to know, the snoring wasn't that bad." He says while smiling, and you feel like you could dig a hole in the ground and bury yourself in it. Your day is getting better and better.

"I'm so glad we're finally here. I can't wait for the ice cream, although it's probably melted by now." You say, incredibly excited, but Conrad seems to find it strange.

"Why would you be happy that your ice cream melted?" Conrad asks as we get out of the car. He grabs the groceries, and I close my car and grab a blanket I had in the trunk.

You both sit on the beach, and you realize you have no idea where you are, and for some reason, that's comforting. You feel like you've spent your whole life trying to find yourself, never allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of being spontaneous and lost. You grab the tub of ice cream and a plastic spoon you bought from the little shop, while Conrad takes the beer, and you both watch the sun begin to set.

"Want some?" You say, pointing to the tub of chocolate ice cream in your hands, offering it to Conrad, who seems to be realizing that the ice cream wasn't the only thing that heated up during your car ride.

"I don't know how warm beer and melted ice cream affect a person's stomach. But judging by the way you're digging in, I guess the ice cream must be great." He says between sips of beer, and you try to clean your mouth as soon as you realize you might be making a mess.

"How's it now?" You ask while trying to clean your face; he then reaches out toward your lip and wipes it on the left corner. You just watch him, feeling a certain intimacy in this gesture. Suddenly, you shake yourself to stop deluding yourself.

"Now it's perfect. Tell me something, what made you so lonely that you wanted my company? If I may ask, of course." He add, trying to steer the conversation toward you, hoping to uncover the reasons behind your solitude.

"If we're going to do this, we have to do it right. I propose a truth or dare game." You suggest, trying to lighten the mood and make the situation more comfortable.

"Okay, truth or dare?" Conrad asks nonchalantly.

"Truth." you respond, almost whispering. You gaze out at the sea, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. You already know what he wants to hear, so you sigh and begin to explain the twist your life has taken in the last 24 hours.

"I was working as a babysitter to pay off the student loan I took, and like any foolish young person, I fell for the sweet words of the eldest son of the family I worked for, who happened to be the father of the baby I was taking care of. We were the same age, so naturally, one thing led to another. But I found out yesterday that I was part of a social experiment. Someone he used to show his parents that he knew how to handle life. So I decided to come here to contemplate life since now, besides being single, I'm also unemployed." You say it all at once, hoping your foolishness goes unnoticed.

"You know..." Conrad starts, a faint smile on his lips, "sometimes life throws curveballs at us when we least expect it. But it's how we handle those curveballs that define us. You've shown incredible strength by facing your situation and taking charge. You're not alone in this, and hey, who knows? Maybe this unexpected turn might lead you to something even better."

"Is that something even better you?" You say while smiling truly extravagantly. You apologize quietly for the almost-laugh that escaped you.

Conrad chuckles, a genuine smile appearing on his face. "Well, who knows?" he replies, a playful glint in his eyes. "Life is full of surprises, right?"

"Enjoy the fact that you're in a good mood and tell me why you were having a mental breakdown in that convenience store earlier. I imagine your story is as good as mine."

"Oh, believe me, my story is not as eventful as yours. I was just having a classic existential crisis in the middle of snack aisle, questioning my life choices and wondering if I'll ever find true happiness." Conrad replies with a half-smile, trying to downplay his own troubles.

"It depends on what you think true happiness is…" You say, taking another spoonful of ice cream.

"Isabel Conklin was my happiness. Or still is. Do you know when the person you love stops being your happiness?" He asks.

"I think happiness shouldn't entirely depend on another person. Perhaps, when we learn to find joy within ourselves, the people around us become complements to that happiness, not exclusive sources of it." You respond, contemplating the question of happiness and love.

"I don't know if it helps or makes it worse. Either way, truth or dare?" He directs the question at you, attempting to steer away from the subject.

"I'm inclined to choose 'truth' again." You respond, observing his attempt to change the topic. Deep down, you're starting to believe that it's more than just a matter of a broken heart.

"It's not fair for you to choose only truth. Where's the girl who told me to move out of her way so she could drive past?" Conrad says, trying to tease me.

"Alright, hit me with your best shot, big guy." You try to sound fearless, but deep down you know he won't ask for anything crazy, right?

"I challenge you to take a plunge into that sea and have a nice swim in that probably freezing but invigorating water." He says, pointing towards the ocean. What a tease. You're definitely going to catch a cold here.

"Come with me?" You say as you strip off most of the clothes you have on. If you go in with this many clothes, you might get sick anyway. Conrad seems to ponder for a moment but eventually joins you.

For a few moments, it feels like the two of you get lost in the water, as if it's blissful. Then you look at Conrad and ask, "Truth or dare?"

Conrad responds after a dive, "Dare." You look into his eyes and smile. Then you say loudly, "I dare you to do something spontaneous, I don't know. Whatever comes to your mind first… if you need suggestions, I have a few."

For a moment, you both lock eyes, he thinking about what he wants to do and you observing what he will choose. You imagine him stepping out of the sea and approaching the elderly couple nearby, asking for a photo, or perhaps he'd ask for the phone number of the beautiful stranger walking towards the beach. But he manages to surprise you. Before you know it, his lips are on yours. Gently, he gives you a peck. A peck that starts to linger, maybe because it's the first time your lips meet his. You grab his hair, pulling your face closer to his. You're only interrupted by a couple shouting his name near where you left your clothes.

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

bury's tips to ACTUALLY combat writer's block

a lot of the time when you hear writers talk about writers block and what you can do to fight it, the advice that you hear is 'just write'

i took this to be true for a long time, and it's not the worst advice or whatever. at the end of the day anything you want to get done w writing does need to be solved by simply writing. but it took me until i was writing much more regularly to realize that actually thats nonsense

there are totally things you can do to help w writers block! ive been experiencing a bout of it recently, so i thought id share some tips partially to help out those who might read this, and partially to help myself out of that same slump

FEEDING THE MACHINE. in my experience, a lot of the time writers block is less of a blockage getting in the way of a flow of creativity and more like a machine running out of fuel. thoughts, ideas, and emotions CAN come from nowhere, but... usually they are coming from somewhere! i get my worst writers block when i am bored, under-stimulated, or stuck in my real life. try getting out into the world and doing something you don't usually do. this can be wild and exciting, or small and plain. take a different route home than usual, go for a drive somewhere cool, take yourself to a garden, bookstore, museum. if you're stuck at home try a new hobby; draw a weird picture, bake something, bird watch. this is really my top advice for myself at least, and something i have to remind myself when im despairing my own worth and dedication as a writer. you cant pour from an empty cup! you cant make something out of nothing! theres no point scraping yourself dry without trying to fill yourself back up.

FEEDING THE MACHINE... DIFFERENTLY. same principal applies here, but with what stories you are consuming. what actually got me to start writing and posting fic regularly was starting work in publishing that meant i was reading 1-2 books/manuscripts every day. they were often outside my usual reading genres, and sometimes i genuinely hated them... but they were food for the machine. the brain doesn't care if you like books about cows, the brain cares about variety and expanding its horizons. read something new and interesting! try a classic. try getting into queer classics you've never heard of if you're tired of old white men. read a murder mystery or a biography of a cool person or the history of the romance novel or frued's melancholia. try that new fantasy novel youve heard good things about. even if you only end up reading three chapters, thats still something new youre giving your brain. documentaries are also great for this if you're not feeling a new book; sit back and learn something.

CLEAN UP YOUR ENCLOSURE. humans feel yucky when we're in a yucky environment. cleaning is often exhausting and annoying and it sucks, but so is sitting in an environment that makes you feel bad. try clearing off your desk or table. set something nice you like nearby! choose a sunny spot to work in.

TALK YOUR IDEAS OUT. i really struggle with this one, because i dont like bothering people and im really embarrassed about my ideas, especially in the planning stage. it can really help though! try talking to yourself in the shower like you're being interviewed about your work. try going on some chat site, find a stranger to talk to, and infodump until they leave (or stay and you've made a new friend!). ask around for someone who wants to chat ideas; you can share yours, they can share theirs. if you have a loved one who would listen, ask if they would sit down for 45 minutes and let you talk.

LIMIT DISTRACTIONS. this one also sucks but yknow. turn on forest: stay focused. close discord. ask your dog politely to stop barking. get off tumblr and stop writing advice posts about writers block. turn on some ambient music and rain noises or chappell roan's red wine supernova on loop.

may add to this later as i think of others, but the point here is that writer's block isn't laziness and, even if you do in the end just need to write, there are ways to uplift yourself and make doing so more pleasant. these also dont fully apply to what i think the actual cause is of what we often call 'writer's block,' which is just exhaustion and lack of free time; i wouldn't consider that in itself writer's block. these tips are more for when you have that time, or you're making it, but you just cant seem to make it happen.

[stormkobra-5]

Can i request the moon boys reacting to y/n getting angry at a sibling over a special interest I think it might be funny seeing the moon boys reacting to y/n who is usually nice and sweet just go ballistic

I kinda lost it at my brother today swore like a sailor over marvel icronicly 🤣

I keep requesting cause i love your writing so much 💖💖

Bro?!?! Buddy?!?! Are you me?!?! This literally happens to me all. The. TIME. I know exactly how you feel. I’m flattered you think my writing is that great, I don’t mind you sending in requests at all! uwu

Pairing: Moon Boys x gn!Reader

Fic Type: Blurb

Summary: You’re typically sweet as sugar, but when your sibling teases you a little too much about a special interest, you take a turn that’s extremely surprising to your boyfriends.

A/N: This takes place in an au where Moon Knight is not in the MCU, they’re real superheroes serving the real god of the moon and the MCU is a movie series. :p (I was gonna use Star Wars, but you mentioned Marvel, so I decided to use that if that’s okay.)

Note: [Y/S/N] = Your Sibling’s Name

Rating/Warnings: 14+, strong language, probably some incorrect MCU references, an AU that doesn’t make sense b u t *shrugs* this is fanfic, bewildered Moon Bois, gn!sibling so that it’s more reader-friendly (I didn’t want to just add brother or sister lmao), cussing, swearing, and name-calling to a sibling in a loving manner, a sibling teasing reader in a sibling way, reader using crappy insults because I’m not very creative lmao

Your sibling had come to visit you in Steven’s little flat, an unexpected surprise that neither of you were anticipating in the slightest. Unannounced completely. It wasn’t bad, it was just… Startling? Yes, startling is the correct term.

I mean, the flat was a mess. Your lazy weekend was indeed the laziest of weekends. That meant lots of cuddles and not so much actually getting up to put things in the trash can, or do the laundry, or do the dishes. It looked like the flat hadn’t been cleaned in months. I mean, what were they gonna say about you to the rest of the family?! That you and your boyfriend(s) were slobs?!

Marc and Jake immediately retreated into the headspace when Steven opened the door curiously to find your sibling standing there. “Oy?! Lads?! Where’d’you think you’re going?!” Steven’s desperate thoughts were met by Marc and Jake’s unadulterated terror.

“Ohoooo no, hombré,” Jake said, turning to hide in one of the back rooms of Steven’s mind-replicated flat. “I’m not ready to face that yet!”

“Besides, Steven,”Marc reasoned, slowly backing away, “You’re the nicest and most likable out of the three of us.”

And so that was how Steven alone was promptly smushed into a bone-crushing hug. “So you’re the boyfriend!” 

“U-uhm… Yes, I am?” Poor Steven voiced it like a question, glancing back over his shoulder to try and convey his fear to you as you approached with a lazy smile. 

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend,” You gently pried Steven out of the hug, patting his back a little so that he might be reminded to breathe. The poor guy looked like a deer in the headlights, waiting for what he thought was the inevitable disapproval of your family member. “Steven, this is Y/S/N. Y/S/N, this is Steven.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Y/S/N shook Steven’s hand adamantly, whereas your boyfriend was a little more hesitant, a shy smile on his face. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

“They have?” Steven seemed surprised. You wrapped your arms around one of his and leaned into his warmth.

“Don’t be so shocked, silly. Of course I talk about you.” To your sibling, you said with a jerk of your chin, “What’s up?”

“I was in the area for business,” Y/S/N replied, “Figured I’d swing through.”

“You have a hotel?” You inquired, pulling them further into your flat. Steven quietly shut the door behind you, ensuring that it was locked.

“Well, yeah, but it’s one of those old creepy ones like you see in scary movies.” At your frown, Steven perked up.

“Uh oh,” Marc thought, rushing into the headspace. “Don’t even think about it, Steven.”

“Amigo, if you do this, I swear to god, I will kick you in the crotch.”

“...Jake, we share a body.”

“And if he does this, we’ll be in pain already. Might as well make him suffer for it.”

“Why don’t you stay with us?” Steven offered, ignoring his alters. He saw your concern and wanted to get rid of it. You didn’t need to worry like that. He wanted to help, and the way your face lit up at the suggestion only made him more certain that this was the right thing to do– not to mention, your smile also shut his alters up for a second as they admired you.

Your sibling eagerly agreed, and while they went to collect their things from their hotel, you and Steven tidied up the apartment. You laughed and rambled on excitedly about having your sibling stay with you for a few days, and that night at dinner Steven grew more comfortable around them as they spoke, conversations touching on old family stories, amusing tales of childhood endeavors that ended in chaos, and nostalgic recollections of old places.

That is, until your sibling noticed your Marvel merchandise in the bedroom as you gave them a tour. 

Comics, movies, an action figure or two, you had a connection to the movie franchise that your boyfriends found endearing. You would have them watch the movies with you, telling them all the details that they hadn’t noticed or pointing out comic Easter Eggs and similarities. They were pretty sure you could recite Black Panther line-for-line just from memory alone, and for all it was worth, the boys tried their absolute hardest to keep up with all the information, although the MCU was notoriously confusing. 

“You’re still into Marvel, huh?” Your sibling joked.

“Um, yeah?” You gave them a look as if that was the dumbest question they could’ve asked.

Y/S/N just shrugged.

The boys thought nothing of it.

Y/S/N intended to stay for only three days, and on the first day, things went over smoothly. On the second, Steven overheard your sibling teasing you about your Marvel collection again. From where he sat with his book on Egyptian mythos, Steven lifted his head to listen to the exchange.

“Shut up, Y/S/N! Put that down!” You were sweet as always, your voice soft and tender.

“What, you mean your toys?”

“They’re not toys, they’re action figures.”

“Action figures. Action figures which you set on your five million Marvel comics. I’m surprised the floor doesn’t cave in.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible…”

“And you’re a geek.”

Still swapping playful banter, you and your sibling left the bedroom and went out for the day– but not before giving Steven a goodbye kiss. You pecked him a second time– “For Marc” – and a third – “For Jake” – before pulling away. 

You returned later in the evening, with no sign of Y/S/N. “Where’s Y/S/N?” Steven questioned, glancing toward the door as if he expected them to enter as he spoke.

“We split up,” You answered as you started up some popcorn in the microwave. “They’ll come back later. For now, though…” You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. “We’ve got the evening to ourselves.”

“Sounds lovely, darling,” Steven hummed, kissing your cheek. His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close. “Marc says it’s your turn for movie night.”

“I know!” You chirped excitedly as the corn kernels in the microwave started popping. Steven– and Marc and Jake, within the headspace– watched fondly as you zipped around him, headed for the tv remote. “I know exactly what we’re watching.”

“Age of Ultron?” Steven guessed, eliciting a scoff from you.

“No. We’re watching the first Avengers. The original.”

As you prepared the streaming site, Steven continued where you’d left off with the popcorn, getting out the designated gigantic bowl and your favorite drinks. It was then that your sibling walked through the door, all smiles and warm greetings until they seen what you were putting on the tv. “Ugh. Avengers again? Haven't you seen it a billion times already? Give it a break, will ya?”

Steven, Marc, and Jake watched as you put your hands together like you were praying, taking a deep breath. 

And then, you just…

It was like an atomic bomb went off or something. 

“Alright, listen up you fucking dingbat,” You said— you! Their sweet Y/N, cussing?! The boys stared with wide, surprised eyes as you kept going. “I don’t give a shit— nay, two shits— what the fuck you think about my interests, because that’s just what they are. My interests. Hear that? Lemme say it again for your brain cells in the back: my. Fucking. Interests. So that means whatever two-cents you care to drop are promptly shoved in the ‘who-gives-a-fuck’ bin, which is lower on the goddamn rung than the ‘i-don’t-give-a-shit’ barrel. You’re here as my guest you fucking skunk-wad, and while you’re here you can either shut your damn mouth and enjoy the damn movie I’m putting on for entertainment, or walk the fuck away and go on casually about your boring-ass evening in whatever way you choose. But it’s my turn for movie night, dammit, so we’re fucking watching Avengers. Unless you wanna go fucking prance around the flat, then be my guest. Otherwise, shut up, fuck off, peace out.”

With that, you plopped on the couch as if nothing had happened. “Steven, honey, you can bring the popcorn. Come sit down.”

Oh shit. 

Oh fuck.

Maldito infierno.

Steven very cautiously approached, feeling for all the world as if he were a soldier sneaking between two opposing lines of fire, still wide-eyed with shock. Did that just happen?! He was surprised when Y/S/N only nodded, as if impressed by your outburst. Steven sat beside you and braced for the worst, especially when your sibling sat down on his other side. You pushed play.

And simultaneously, you both grabbed a handful of popcorn.

What the bloody hell?

What the hell?

¿Qué carajo?

Then you both started excitedly making references and pointing out keys of the plot, as if you hadn’t snapped at your sibling. Oh, well. I guess we fight like that a lot, don’t we?

“Yeah, you’re right,”Marc shrugged within the headspace. “Though… I’ve gotta admit…”

“That was… Extremely sexy of them,” Jake added when Marc lost his words.

Steven didn’t vocalize it, but he didn’t need to. He was in full agreement. When your sibling left the next morning, Steven told you almost before the door had completely shut, “Y’know that was really bloody hot when you told them off, love.”

You laughed, leaning into his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Steven admitted softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Jake and Marc think so, too.” You hummed, thoughtfully. Maybe even somewhat shyly. You’d hardly ever gotten more than frustrated, so your little sailor-swear outburst was unexpected, even for you. You were drawn out of your thoughts, a peal escaping from your throat as Steven tickled your sides a little to get your attention. “We’ve got ourselves a little spitfire, lads!”

And from then on, that’s what you were.

Their spitfire.

================================================

Thanks for reading! ^^ I hope you liked it!

[the-beginning-is-ending]

HOUSE M.D × WarriorCats

FelidaeMD is yet another crossover between HouseMD and WarriorCats, where I will be actively rewriting the series, along with adjusting it to fit the warriors series.

This is a remaster post for the designs that I created before, and overall I might make a fic for this AU, but no promises! Anyone is free to use these designs for unrelated things or for their own stories and AUs.

Designs + info under the cut!

LINENCURL - LINENSTAR ( Cuddy )

Norwegian-Forest-Cat based! I took inspiration off of a sheep, because of her bangs within the show always reminded me of one.. and idk she has sheep vibes. She also has extra toes on one of her front paws! No reason, just cuz I thought it'd be cool.

JASPERWREN ( Wilson )

Based on an American-Curl +a little heart-like dot on his face! He's the Mediator of the clan they're within, cuz I thought it'd be fitting. More wavy-ish fur.

HARSHGUST ( House )

He's a Cornish-Rex mix. I saw this in a certain Warriors-AU and really liked it, but I can't remember the goddamned name of it (going feral rn). Either way, credits to them! One of his front claws is declawed, just for some detail, and he is the main medicine cat of the clan. Also! Cats, and many animals, can get blood clots and things like that, so it's the same thing that fucked up his leg. No monster or anything like that.

EVERGREENFALL ( Foreman )

I really love his design.. idk why.. he's a Burmese mix, and yeah! He's another medicine cat that House mentored, and stuff like that. Simple. Idk I just love drawing him too!! Also! Extra toes like Cuddy, cuz after all, he does replace her.

AIRYCHIRP ( Cameron )

A Somali! I couldn't decide if I wanted to lean blonde or brown, cuz I think of both when I see her... but I thought an in-between would fit better. I love her chronically sad look... she's so funky...

RAVENCOIL ( Chase )

A marbled Bengal. He didn't change much... as u can tell. It's just him. Same paws / tail being a lighter color as House, following in his paw steps and stuff.... idk. he.

REEDHAIL ( Thirteen )

No real reasoning in her design! I decided on a rex mix with other stuff in there cuz I thought her being a mix was more fitting, is all. (I think the rex part came to me from the same au as the house-rex thing, but I can't remember! sry!!)

VASTAMBER ( Amber )

Her design came easily to me. I saw it since day one, as a simple wirehair cat. It just immediately came to mind. This graceful, golden wirehair who just always looks so.. oddly relaxed.

COLDTAIL ( Taub )

Scottish fold was so obvious.. and also from the same one as House/13, I believe? Idk I just thought it was rlly fitting! I wish I could've gone further with his design, but overall, it's Taub. I think it matches him well enough! itty bitty guy....

LYREKRILL ( Kutner )

Kutner was either gonna be a snowshoe or Siamese, and I thought Siamese fit better, so here he is! I rlly like how simple he is, and Siamese are honestly some of my favorite cats so obv I like him... if only he stuck around for longer. But he definitely made his impact on the show.

Since I cannot add anymore images (yes, very unfortunate) and Vogler / Tritter didn't change designs one bit, they won't be in this post. I'll post them later on probably, but yeah.

They did get clean refs tho.

Plainsclan — Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital

Boarclan — Voglers Clan

PrincetonClan — Clan near the edges of the city where Vogler comes from

[forpiratereasons]

Omg I know you get asked this all the time but... do you have any more fic recs? I've gone through all the ones you've mentioned before & now am hungry for more!

i do have some more recs!!

Red Sky, by Bazzle: When Stede finally returns to the Revenge, Ed won’t hear his apologies. It takes a deadly storm to bring down his walls and bring them back together. The language in this fic had me holding my breath.

Trade Descriptions Act, by ElapsedSpiral: Ed finds Stede Bonnet's Filofax and tries being Stede Bonnet on for size. It's going okay until he meets the real Stede Bonnet. SO funny. It's so funny.

Baddy Zaddy, also by ElapsedSpiral (wip): Ed is a retired porn star with a Soho sex shop, Stede is an "ally" of the LGBT community, they meet on a sex call gone to the wrong number. Just read everything by this author.

Clarity, by katonline: After an accident upends Stede and Ed's fragile new relationship, Ed fights to bring Stede back. I'm a slut for a temporary amnesia trope, what can I say.

No Fixed Ropes, by lyricl: Stede Bonnet drove his raggedy band of muppets around Yosemite in a fully customized Chevy van with a goddamn record player in it. Izzy couldn’t fucking stand it.1970s Yosemite climbing AU. Lyricl has my heart for this premise alone but it's also dead well-written.

Buttercup, by mia_ugly: The thing is, when you’re Blackbeard you’ve got kind of a reputation to uphold. When you captain a ship, when you lead a crew, when people look up to you, tell stories, build a legend – parts of that legend are always more accurate than others. I might've recced this before but it rewired my brain so have it again.

Under the Weather, by silverwhisk: Illness sweeps through the crew of the Revenge. Stede introduces Ed to his favorite self-care home remedies for dealing with the all of the coughing, sneezing, fevers, and body aches that comes along with a cold. I love a good sickfic, I love a good sickfic, I love a good sickfic!!

Maketh the Man, by Fyre: “He doesn’t know you,” Izzy said. “Doesn’t know how you operate. Doesn’t know what makes you tick.” Mostly because the man was a fucking lunatic. “He wouldn’t see you coming.” He grimaced as he said it. “And you’re the only one who might be mad enough to pull it off.” A dramatic rescue attempt and a dramatic dress. Chef's kiss.

Clean Slated State, by justkeeptrekkin: Stede is ready to 'get back out there' after his divorce, but he's more than a little bit intimidated by the concept of online dating. After a series of truly terrible first dates, he's close to giving up on love altogether. I think I also recced this one before but I've reread it since then so on the list it goes.

Bones Adrift, by Skrifores (wip): The Revenge spots a drifting, seemingly abandoned ship. Is it haunted, overrun by demons, or full of vampire-mermaids? Listen, this fic had me at horror and sold me at ghost story. I'm all in.

i'm always taking recs myself also!! i have a marked for later list a mile long but send me your recs and i will add them in!!

[the-engdyssey]

Day 4 OC-centric

Title: In Misery

This is a fanfic I don’t really have time to write, but I thought it would be interesting to share the idea with everyone and see what they think! I've tried to add as much detail as I can for this, and I hope you enjoy it!

Gif credits:  Tangerine: @peachyspaceslvt Elizabeth Olsen: @may0osh and @elizabethlailolsenfan

Tag List: @bullettrainpromptweek @phantom-wolf

Prompt filled: Mainly OC centric prompt, pre-canon, and butterfly effect prompts. It’s also an opportunity to flesh out some headcanons about Tangerine that have developed because of the course of this story. 

Pairing: Tangerine x Sarah (Female OC)

Warnings: Major character death, canon typical violence (there's a scene with a stabbing) 

Note: I have included gifs for some visual reference/inspo. My “face claim” for Sarah is Elizabeth Olsen which might be an odd choice to some people. But for context: I didn’t know that Aaron Taylor Johnson  and Elizabeth Olsen had played siblings in a Marvel movie before. I first saw them and really enjoyed their acting together in the 2014 Godzilla movie where they play husband and wife. I thought they were really cute together, and I was disappointed that they didn’t get more screen time with each other. I like their chemistry together, and I hope they act together again sometime. So, when my brain thought of a fic where Tangerine has a girl he’s in love with, I thought of her character looking like Elizabeth Olsen. That said, here’s a bullet point run down of my Tangerine and Sarah fic! (Partly under a cut due to length not necessarily content.)

Sarah meets Tangerine purely by coincidence. She is not involved in the world of assassins or the criminal underworld whatsoever. In some regards, it’s almost as if she “cleans up their mess”. She’s a young doctor for the NHS, and she works in A&E (the emergency room). She often deals with trauma patients, but she encounters just about any kind of sickness or injury in the emergency room of a hospital. She has a few friends lovingly drag her out to a pub one night to let off some steam, because she constantly works, and they fear she never has much fun. She meets Tangerine in that pub, and perhaps she’s a little tipsy, and he’s very handsome. Tangerine on his part clocks onto Sarah instantly. He can’t help himself—she’s exactly the kind of girl he likes. She’s sweet, a little shy at his open flirting but incredibly receptive, the cocktails have her a bit tongue tied (but it's also her nerves at talking to him), but she’s well spoken and intelligent. She’s pretty and cute. He likes her smile, he likes her laugh, and he simply has to have her. Which is fine with Sarah, because he’s the kind of guy she dreams of but thinks she’ll never have because he’s too good looking. There’s instant sparks, instant chemistry, and they wind up sleeping together that first night. And it’s incredible for both of them. Tangerine is an attentive lover in her opinion. He checks before he does anything, but he knows how to navigate his way around a woman’s body. Sarah feels safe with him, which means a great deal to her because she's never slept with anyone she just met, she always waits. She feels confident and sexy with him, and it’s a reminder of how it’s supposed to feel to be with someone. But surprisingly for the both of them, there’s an innate intimacy to being together which neither of them was expecting. There’s a care and a passion for each other that catches them both off guard, but it’s not entirely unwelcome. Despite thinking it’s a bad idea, Sarah slips her card into Tangerine’s shirt pocket and says he can call her anytime before she heads home that night. She assumes he won’t. But he does the next day wanting to take her out on a real date. He promises that he'll be just fine with giving her a kiss goodbye if she wants to take things slower. He really likes Sarah, he wants her, and he’s all in. It doesn’t take long for him to make her feel the same. 

Personally I love the duality of Tangerine dating a doctor, someone who spends their life trying to ease the suffering of others or preserve life, when Tangerine is primed to do the exact opposite. He doesn’t mind hurting or killing other people, the only thing stopping him is an increased likelihood of getting caught. Sarah is an inherently good person who tries to navigate her life according to the edict of “do no harm”. Tangerine most certainly doesn’t. Sarah doesn’t know what Tangerine does for money as their romance blossoms, but her kindness and compassion is what draws Tangerine in further. She is everything he’s never had in his life; true romantic love, friendship, loyalty, compassion, care, tenderness, support. He’s not looking for a woman to take care of him, but part of her loving him is doing exactly that, while he takes care of her. (Being a doting and consistently caring boyfriend is part of his love language, but it’s also him knowingly struggling with his abandonment issues having grown up in the foster care system. He feels like he has to prove to his lovers why they shouldn’t leave him, prove himself worthy of them, but Sarah silently and patiently reassures him that she’s not going anywhere.)

Tangerine is honest with Sarah about a great many things, honest to the point that Lemon thinks he’s an absolute idiot. He tells Sarah his real first name which is Tom. (Yes, I imagine his name is actually Thomas, and everyone who actually knows his name calls him Tom for short. Because Aaron Taylor Johnson was in a movie called ‘Tom & Thomas’ when he was little and because Bullet Train likes to make references to actors' previous roles in other films, this is the hill I’m dying on. Especially because it makes his annoyance with Lemon’s Thomas the Tank Engine obsession all the more infuriating as adults, and because Sarah can harass him by calling him her ‘Tom Cat’, and it makes him cringe so bad his stomach hurts while she’s crying with laughter. To which he inevitably runs after her fully intent on tickling her until she can’t breathe as revenge.) He makes up a last name for him and Lemon to go by, but he also tells her his actual birth date, he tells her honest stories about when he was younger and the people who mattered to him in the past. He even opens up about some of his worst experiences in school and foster care. He tells her the truth of who he is as a person, something that no one really knows except Lemon. Everyone else who does has left him behind in one way or another. He does not tell her anything about his real work, he hides that incredibly well from her. But he actually feels like this girl could be in his life long term, something that he never thought would actually come about, and not lying to her feels important to him even if there are certain key details that he leaves out. 

If I could summarize this story in a single sentence it would be this: No matter how deeply and truly Tangerine loves Sarah, he is nothing but an absolute poison in her life. Because Sarah is inherently good, and Tangerine is someone who is morally gray at best. He is the very antithesis of what she is, what is important to her, despite the fact that he matters to her dearly. Despite cherishing and wanting to protect her gentle and kind nature in a world that easily makes people become jaded, he is an incredibly selfish and manipulative man. He wants Sarah in his life because he loves her. That's the simplest and honest truth. But he also explains to Lemon that having a doctor as a wife would come in handy for the both of them. No more shitty patch up jobs themselves, or hoping that established organizations will take pity on them and let them utilize their resources for a fee, they’d have a trained medical professional to help them out. (And I’m not entirely sure of the legalities of it in the UK, but sometimes spouses can’t testify against each other in court, and if that’s the case, that's an added bonus). So, Tangerine asks Sarah to marry him. Because he loves her, and if Lemon asks him about it, she’s useful. And Sarah, none the wiser and utterly adoring him, says yes. 

But a relationship with a man like Tangerine is not sustainable. The violence that he so desperately tries to keep under control around her exposes itself more and more over the course of their relationship. Getting in the face of someone here. Shoving someone or nearly getting into a fight there. It’s subtle at first, to the point where Sarah doesn’t question it. He's had a past where picking fights was a way of coping and oddly enough, protecting himself. He's always been protective of her as well, but it's become more intense. It’s something she notices, but she misses it for what it really is. She’s never had any reason to believe that Tangerine is a truly violent man. Until she finally sees it for herself one day. She sees the man she’s going to marry kill another (for a quick local contract). It’s not an accident, it’s not a mistake. It’s something bloody and brutal, something she was never supposed to see. Something that brings her whole world shattering down around her.

Tangerine knows that Sarah knows. He realizes too late that she saw what happened, and he rushes over to her flat to try and talk to her when he can't catch her on foot. He’s a tad arrogant enough to think that it’ll take some time and effort, but he should be able to soothe this one over. He thinks Sarah is probably shocked and scared, but he can calm her down, surely. Tangerine underestimates the effect this has on Sarah. He underestimates the Pandora’s Box seeing such an act of violence opens within her. She’s got a head start on Tangerine. She’s able to get to her flat and barricade the door before he gets there. She’s panicking and rightfully begins to question everything. As she begins to look through Tangerine’s belongings that he’s brought over to her flat (he's essentially been living with her for some time), she realizes just how deep the lies run. Fake passports and driver's licenses, numerous burner phones, foreign cash, dozens of weapons all hidden carefully in various pockets of his duffel bags in the bottom of the closet. All things lingering in her space, her life, right under her nose, and she never had a clue. She realizes the man she loves is an illusion. The man she loves is in fact a total stranger, someone violent, a killer, and seemingly a professional no less. Tangerine isn’t stupid enough to leave copies of the contracts or mission briefs around, but she doesn’t need them to understand how dangerous Tangerine is. He’s a murderer, and she’s a witness. So Sarah does the only thing she can think of: she runs. 

It is because Sarah still loves Tangerine, despite knowing that everything he’s ever told her or shown her could very well be a lie, that she runs and instead of contacting the police. She’s scared, but more than that her heart is broken. She doesn’t realize that what Tangerine always showed her was his real self, but the darker, more violent side of himself is his real self as well. While wrestling with the realization that the man she wanted to have a future and a family with wasn’t real, she also begins to question and berate herself. How could she be so stupid? How did she not have any inkling of what he was? What kind of woman loves a man like that? Is she not as bad as he is? He makes a wave of guilt wash over her for loving a man who causes the very harm to others she tries to fix in her profession. Her phone has been buzzing non-stop since Tangerine came back to the flat to find it empty and his things rifled through. Sarah is in a taxi on the way to the airport to catch the first flight out of the UK. She answers though she can’t even see the screen with the tears swimming in her eyes. She should yell at him, curse at him, do anything but already miss him terribly. She can’t. Before Tangerine can even say anything, she simply says, “I’ll never say anything to anybody. I still love you, Tom. I'll always still love you, but I can't stay. Take care of yourself.” She pulls the SIM card out of her phone and chucks it from the taxi cab. Her plan is to head back home, her actual home. Her dad is English, but he met Sarah’s mother and settled down with her in Canada. Sarah has dual citizenship, and the only thing she can think of or wants to do is go home in her time of greatest need. 

Sarah makes a prudent decision by running away from Tangerine, but the problem is she’s not good at running away. Why would she be? That’s not a skill set most people learn. And while Tangerine and Lemon are not as skilled or “professional” as they are by the time they step on that bullet train, they have no trouble figuring out how to track Sarah down. Between budding connections to other operatives with handlers or “independent contractors”, and the fact that Tangerine enabled things like ‘find my phone’ on Sarah’s electronics without her knowing, it doesn’t take long for them to find her. Lemon has had about enough of all of this. He’s met Sarah, he actually likes her very much, he appreciates that she listens to him talk about his interests, he's grateful that she loves his brother like she does, but according to him, “I’m the one thinking with my brain. Unlike you. I don’t know what you’re thinking with, mate, but it’s gonna get us both in trouble.” Tangerine either needs to win Sarah back or he needs to take care of her, because leaving a witness behind is bad for business. Tangerine understands the situation they’re in, but he also refuses the idea of doing anything to Sarah. He can frame it in the context of wanting to preserve her usefulness, but it’s because he loves her. It’s as simple as that. And Lemon isn't stupid, he knows that.

Sarah leaving causes Tangerine’s emotions to go all over the place. He’s stressed because of the implications to his and Lemon’s safety and freedom. He’s a little angry, but more than anything he's hurt that she left. She promised him she never would. And though logically he understands why, it still feels like a rejection of some sort. And he misses her. Her leaving reminds him of all the other times he's been left behind. That same feeling of being a scared little boy who will never see those he cares about again settles in his chest. He hates it, but it shows him how not having Sarah in his life just isn’t an option. It’s a rather warped and selfish way of loving her at this point. When he finds Sarah the first time, he doesn’t confront her right away. In fact, he spends a great deal of time simply observing her from afar as she tries to navigate a life without him. He sees her parents and wishes he could have met them and tried to impress them properly. He sees her settle into new work. He watches her interactions with those around her. He sees the smile on her lips doesn’t reach her eyes anymore, he feels sick that it’s his fault. He sees Sarah safe and helping people as her true calling encourages her to do, and for some time, he considers leaving her be. Trusting her word and letting her have a life without him. But then he sees that she’s still wearing the engagement ring he bought her (and he did buy it, it felt wrong to steal it, he has a sense of pride that he actually bought it in an honest transaction for her), and the choice is made for him. When she’s out, he sneaks into the flat she’s renting. And he sees that she still has room for him in her life. She’s wearing the ring he gave her. There’s space in the closet for his suits to hang up. The double sink in the bathroom has everything sequestered to one side. He can tell she's only sleeping on one side of the bed. He likes to hope she is waiting for him and will be glad to see him. 

She was, and she’s not. She’s been waiting with baited breath for Tangerine to come find her, terrified that he’ll kill her if he does. She hasn’t stayed with her parents because she doesn’t want them to get hurt. When he’s there in her flat when she comes home, she immediately tries to run, but Tangerine is faster and stronger than her. He overpowers her, but he doesn’t hurt her. He tells her to be quiet, but his voice is gentle and loving as always, his warmth is reassuring, the strength in his hands and arms is familiar and comforting. When she goes limp in his arms, crying and defeated, he thinks he might be able to finally reach her. She asks what he plans to do, and he says he wants to take her home. He wants things to be like they were. He loves her, he would never hurt her, and he’s never lied to her. But he continues to lie by omission, never really answering the questions she demands of him about what she saw, what he does, who he is. She asks him if he loves her, and he says yes. She asks why she should believe him, how can she possibly know he’s not lying. He kisses her because he doesn't have the words, and she knows. She knows deep down that maybe he does really love her, but that doesn’t change anything. But she lets him love her for that night. She makes love to him again and again, telling him that she’s missed him, she still loves him, that there’s no one else for her but him. She means every word she says, they're a declaration of love and a confession. But they're also a goodbye. When he wakes up in the morning, she’s not there. She’s not even in the same province anymore. Tangerine is simultaneously furious and amazed that she managed to slip away from him again. He steals something small from her apartment, a little trinket that reminds him of her, and heads out to find her again. 

Every time Sarah runs away, she gets a little better at it. A part of Tangerine is proud of her, but he’s also getting sick of this game. Especially when other men start showing their interest as soon as she's settled down somewhere. Sarah rebuffs them every time. She doesn't want anyone else, her heart still belongs to Tangerine. She also knows full well that if Tangerine caught her with another man, that other man won’t survive the interaction. And after her father has sent a private detective to look into this man he sees as harassing his daughter, Sarah realizes that she might not survive him either. She learns more about Tangerine than she ever wanted to. She knows about the murders he’s been suspected in, she’s seen his previous arrests, mug shots, learns about his dealings with the fringes of organized crime, and it's enough to knock the wind out of her. She knew it was bad, but she never dreamed it was this bad. The private detective, a retired cop, looks at Sarah and asks her, “Honey, how’s a girl like you gotten involved with a man like that?” She takes the silver chain holding her engagement ring off from around her neck and places it on the table. “I said I would marry him.” The private detective just sighs and closes his eyes despairingly, but he’s a decent man and wants to help. “That’s okay. We have places that can help. There are damn good women’s shelters around here, we can protect you—“ “I think you’d better go.” “I’m sorry?” Sarah just looks at him as she places the necklace around her neck once more, resigned to the fact that it’s too late for her. The only thing she can do is try to make sure no one else gets hurt. And this man being here is putting his own life in danger. He leaves very reluctantly, but he can’t force Sarah to do anything. And he promises that if he doesn’t hear from Sarah within a certain time frame, he'll give a letter to her parents telling them that she loves them. After that, she cuts off contact with everyone she cares about, and goes as off-grid as possible. She has to get serious about hiding and running now. 

Tangerine can still find her. He finds her a total of three times. She manages to slip away two. Each time he tells her that he loves her, he’ll never hurt her, he wants her back. Upon discovering that she knows everything, he assures her that he’s never truly lied about anything. But he’ll tell her everything from now on. He won’t keep anything from her if she wants to know, but he won’t say anything she doesn't want to hear. She knows everything now, she sees him in his entirety, will she please come home with him again. And Sarah does see the real him. She sees the man that utterly adores her, and the monster that makes her question her own morality. She’s never taken kindly to people accusing doctors of playing God, and she doesn’t think it right for him to play God with other people’s lives. She doesn’t like the pseudo moral righteousness of Tangerine more often than not killing those involved with organized crime, men who often sell, beat, rape, and murder women and children. He kills men who are scum, and thus his actions could be framed as some sort of service unto humanity. But she doesn’t enjoy the notion of justifying murder– for do those same men not have wives and children who will mourn their loss? It's not her right to place a value on another life or to end it, her calling is to ease the suffering of others. She still questions herself, berates herself for still loving him like she does though she's helpless to stop it. She’s still trying to fight the inevitable, but it’s a losing battle. The fear is waning every time he comes to her, the longing for him is ever growing, the relief at seeing him is near overwhelming. It’s getting harder to leave every time. So when he finds her at a train station that final time, both of them have reached the end of their rope. Tangerine catches up to her but keeps his distance lest he spook her. He's out of breath from running, his three piece suit a disaster in his rush to get there before she slips away once more. And he finally tells her, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all of this! I never wanted this for you. Please, love, I want you with me… But I…I understand if that’s not what you want. I love you, but if you step onto that train, I promise you’ll never see me again.” He means it, and he’s willing to keep his word. For the first time, he is willing and able to love Sarah unselfishly, and in turn Sarah is finally willing to be selfish. “Do you still love me, Tom? Really love me. Not because you want me to keep quiet. You really did before, didn't you?” Tangerine can’t help but snap a bit because, “Of course I fucking do! I never stopped! Bloody hell, woman, why do you think I’m here chasing after you?! Why do you think I asked you to marry me?! Sarah, I love you!” She can’t help but smile even if the tears are running down her cheeks. Tangerine prepares himself for his heart to leave with her on that train, only for the girl he loves to run and jump into his arms. The cold air of the train speeding past washes over them as does the relief and elation of finally coming together. He kisses her slowly, adoringly, and asks again if she’ll be his wife. She says yes. He tells her to be a good girl and put her ring back on then. She laughs and waggles her ring finger in front of him, showing that she’d been wearing it the whole time. 

Sarah and Tangerine begin to settle back into their life together in London, though it takes time for Sarah to put the pieces of the life she left behind back together again. There was always open communication between them before, but this time it's easier with no secrets. Sarah can establish the boundary that if Tangerine is going to continue with his work, she'll never help him and Lemon with a job. She'll never be a part in harming someone else. But she will always patch them up when they come home, and he better not get himself killed or he'll have her to answer to. She's got a cute little stern frown on her face and her hands on her hips as she tells him this, and Tangerine just melts. He agrees, because he doesn't want Sarah involved in his world. She's too good for that. But taking care of others, especially those she loves? That's just who she is. Yet a man like Tangerine in Sarah's life is a poison, regardless of how much he tries to protect her. Lemon and Tangerine tend to not see the long term consequences of the various jobs they take. To them, each job is an isolated incident. They feel as outside contractors, they retain the right to bounce from contract to contract without any sort of comeuppance from the various crime syndicates they interact with. Things don't work that way. The Twins work in the fringes of organized crime, but mob bosses do not take kindly to losing their underlings at the behest of another mob. Tangerine and Lemon can take contracts from the Italian/Russian mobs and the Yakuza all they want, but they really are foolish to think there won't be consequences. Especially when they have people in their lives they care about. So when Tangerine and Lemon take a contract to get rid of some Russian mob members for other organized crime bosses, they set off a sequence of events that seals all their fates.

After Tangerine and Lemon kill a group of Russian mobsters in London, the mob’s first instinct is to kill them. Until the local Russian boss (naturally someone who falls under the umbrella of the White Death's control) realizes they're talking about The Twins. This guy likes The Twins, they've done good work for him in the past. It's a shame that they accepted a contract against the Russians. Instead of killing them and losing their future value completely, the boss decides to remind the Twins why loyalty to a good paycheck should never be broken. To not bite the hand that feeds them. The order is given to hurt the people close to them as a reminder to behave themselves. (Can't have Tangerine and Lemon badly beaten, then they'll be useless for any upcoming jobs.) After a couple of the Russian mobsters have been tailing the Twins for a while, the only person they see with them consistently is Sarah. And considering the one with the mustache is the one who seems to be in charge of accepting contracts and she's his girl, all the better. 

Sarah never saw it coming, and Tangerine wasn't there when it happened. Sarah has just finished her shift at the hospital and is just about to pop into one of the shops, before heading to where Tangerine and Lemon plan to pick her up. Sarah walks along a little side street, a short cut to the closest convenience store. A route she has traversed dozens of times without incident. A sudden large hand on her shoulder forces her to turn around, two hulking men with tattoos before her. Before she can pull away and run, before she can fight back, or yell for help, one of the Russians has a knife buried in her belly. The shock of the injury leaves her dazed at first before the knife is pulled out, warm blood following in its wake. She's stabbed again, the agonizing pain that suddenly hits her would make her scream. Instead, it steals her breath as does the force of the blade being driven into her. Five stabs in total, four in her abdomen and one in her chest. Sarah collapses after she staggers away a few steps. The other man roots through her purse taking her ID as she struggles to breathe, struggles to speak past the searing pain with every movement. Her scrubs are soaked in her own blood, and she focuses on not passing out. She hears the two men speak in Russian, doesn't know why her mind latches onto that detail. She tries to look at their faces, but it's a fog, and she knows it's because her blood pressure is dropping. She also knows the signs of various organs and blood vessels sustaining damage during a stabbing. She knows that her injuries aren't good. But she just has to wait for them to leave, wait until they assume she'll be dead soon, and then she can properly put pressure on the wound, call an ambulance, call Tangerine– her phone smacks onto the pavement before a heavy boot crashes down onto it. A heavily accented voice tells her, “Tell him he should have known better. Tell him to be on his best behavior. We know where you live.” Sarah nods weakly and finds herself alone. If not for her injuries, she'd question whether or not those men had even been there at all, or were they just phantoms from the shadows? She yells for help as best she can. She tries to get her phone to work to no avail. She tries to get up but realizes that sensation in the lower half of her body isn't as good as it should be. She can't rise to her feet, and she doesn't have the strength to drag herself along the pavement. Her breathing sounds suspiciously wet. The only warmth she can feel is her own blood. She puts pressure on the wounds with what little strength she can muster, forcing herself to stay awake. It's a losing battle. She's slowly dying. 

Despite Lemon’s rebukes of needing to trust Sarah more, that she's just running late, she hasn't run off again, Tangerine can feel something is wrong in his gut. As Lemon is chastising his brother, Tangerine pulls up the tracking app that he's once again put on Sarah's phone. The one she still doesn't know about. Lemon is about to tell Tangerine off further when the look on his face makes him pause. He glances at the phone. The little dot signifying Sarah's phone is stationary. Lemon assumes it's because she's in a shop, while Tangerine feels his heart drop into his stomach. She's stationary in an empty side street at night. Tangerine can't help himself from rushing out of the car to where Sarah is according to his phone. He keeps calling her, and she doesn't pick up. A visceral fear takes hold of him, worse than the turmoil he felt the mornings he would take up to discover Sarah had run away from him again. He gives up using the phone to call her and yells out for her instead. It's a flash of teal, the color of her scrubs, in his peripheral vision that allows him to find her in the dark and quiet of the side street. He's on his knees beside her in a second, and his heart is pouring out over the pavement along with her blood. He doesn't even recognize the tears in his eyes as he dials 999 and tenderly takes Sarah in his arms. He gently encourages her to wake up, holding her close to give her his warmth, her blood soaking into his clothes. She's pale and clammy, she's groggy and her eyes are a little unfocused, but she's alive. She's looking at him and saying his name, and therefore she's as beautiful as she's always been. His lips are all over her face and though Sarah can't return the affections, she's appreciative of the warmth. He asks Sarah to tell him what to do to help her while they wait for the ambulance. Instead, she tells him about the men who attacked her. All the fragmented details she vaguely recalls and the warning they had left her with. Sarah asks Tangerine to be careful, and the fact that the woman he loves is dying in his arms but her kind heart is more worried about his safety, breaks him. She's never seen him cry. Very few people have. But he holds her close and weeps in worry and regret, kisses her lips to cease the gentle reassurances falling from her lips. “It's supposed to be me telling you it's okay, not the other way around.” “Tom, tell me everything is going to be okay.” “Everything is going to be fine, love. You're going to be fine.” And he makes a silent promise that he'll kill them for this, but saying it out loud will make her worry. “Love you. Always have. You know that right? Love you so much Tommy.” “I know. I love you too. So much that I won't get mad at you calling me Tommy.” It makes her smile but barely. His voice is barely above a whisper as he continues, “I've never loved anyone like I love you. You're my dream girl, you know. I've…I've wished for you my entire life. Please don't leave me yet. Stay awake for me Sarah.” Her eyes fall closed, her breathing shallow. Lemon comes to his side as the sirens draw closer. Tangerine’s desperate pleas for Sarah to wake up go unanswered. 

Lemon has to help the EMTS to get Tangerine to let her go so they can get Sarah in the ambulance, and he drives them both to the hospital. He sits with Tangerine the entire time as they wait for updates of Sarah's condition, squeezing his brother's shoulder or neck in reassurance. Tangerine lets him do it more than once, a sign of how distraught Tangerine is. Lemon apologizes to the nurses at reception when Tangerine snaps at them if they refuse to give him any information for privacy reasons. Lemon helps ease the burden of the brief encounter with the police asking initial questions about the incident. But they won't know more until Sarah is out of surgery. Lemon urges Tangerine to clean himself up in the bathroom, because Sarah will hate to see him look like such a mess. Lemon is also right beside Tangerine as one of Sarah's closest friends at the hospital comes out to speak to them. The look on her face says everything before the words tumble from her lips. Lemon is there as his brother's heart shatters before his eyes. Sarah died during emergency surgery due to the severity of her injuries. Lemon takes hold of him as a grief so profound overtakes Tangerine that he nearly sinks to the ground. The last of Tangerine's strength is the only thing keeping a scream erupting from his throat and sobs wracking his frame. Tangerine never liked to cry, not even when they were kids. Lemon never had that problem, and he still doesn't. His eyes shine with tears for this brother and the girl who he looked forward to having as a sister in law. His friend. Lemon pulls Tangerine to a quiet place and says nothing as his brother falls apart. It's the first and last time Lemon has ever seen Tangerine mourn anyone in their lives like this. And he realizes with the greatest despair, that Sarah was the first and last woman that Tangerine had ever or would ever truly love. 

Tangerine is never the same after he loses Sarah. His hurt morphs into anger, a wrath against others that reaches new levels. Tangerine was not Sarah's husband legally. He was not her next of kin. He had no say in where she would be buried. He was certainly not welcome at her funeral. Regardless, he lingers in her Canadian home town to visit her grave, leaving flowers every time, often as he can before he leaves again. He and Lemon have another job coming up. Lemon thinks it's a bad idea. Tangerine has to work otherwise his grief will swallow him whole. It's wet work. And a part of him realizes that Sarah would be disappointed to know it's work that demands he takes the lives of others. But the ember of compassion Sarah fostered within him left along with her. The next job the Twins take is the Bolivia job. Tangerine accepted it because the group down there supposedly had connections with the Russians. The Bolivia job was an absolute blood bath due to his rage born from grief. A showcasing of his wrath. There was no compassion. No humanity. The rumors spread about The Twins begin to refer to them as “insane” and “psychopaths”. Tangerine likes that. The Bolivia job made him start to feel better, though it can never begin to fill the empty space inside his soul. The only regrets Tangerine has about the Bolivia job is how unprepared Lemon seemed to be for it. And that his newfound reputation as a psychopath was not given to him in time to save Sarah. He often thinks that if they all knew what he was really capable of, then maybe they would have thought differently about touching what was his. Maybe Sarah would still be alive. 

The butterfly effect of Sarah's death leads to Tangerine being how he is by the time he and Lemon step on the bullet train to Kyoto. His anger lingers. He snaps at Lemon much more than he used to, but Lemon doesn't really take it to heart. He knows when to push back and when not too. Tangerine’s fuse is a lot shorter than it used to be. He's polite for the most part, but cold with others. He's always attracted the attention of women, and even a few men, but his overall demeanor shows that he is completely unavailable. Tangerine can't even begin to think about being with someone else. But Lemon also knows that Tangerine's heart has not gone cold, it's broken. Where Lemon forgot the innocent civilian they caused the death of, Tangerine remembers. Mainly because he thinks of how upset Sarah would be over it. What little conscience he has left is the small piece of Sarah that lives on inside him. But at the same time, he can be derisive towards the pain of others. He's remarkably callous when talking about the fatal accident of the White Death's wife. Tangerine understands that pain, to him Sarah was his wife, but he doesn't feel sorry for the White Death. To Tangerine, he's part of the Russian mob, so there's a sense of vindication. A sense of ‘it sucks to lose her, doesn't it?’ But the irony is, Tangerine couldn't possibly know how full circle things have come. The Russians took Sarah away from him, he played a part in the chain of events that lead to the White Death's wife dying, and by stepping on that train, he's signed his own death warrant. Tangerine also holds no sympathy for the White Death not having left his compound because Tangerine has a thought process of ‘Well I got over it and got back to work. And you have kids. You've no excuse to hide yourself away.’ It's a thought process that holds the bitterness and anger of grief and a distinct lack of self awareness. Sarah's death is also why Tangerine frets over Lemon like he does. He wasn't there for Sarah. So when Tangerine finds Lemon knocked out in the silent car, he assumes the worst. It causes the seed of anxiety to bloom in his gut. By the time Tangerine gets kicked off the train and has to punch his way back in, his fear of it happening again has run away with him. He knows Lemon can take care of himself, but Lemon is the only person Tangerine has left. Tangerine's worst fears are realized when he finds Lemon in the bathroom. Lemon has been shot, and Tangerine wasn't there. He wasn't there again. He failed those he loves again. He's lost a loved one again. He's all alone. And something inside him snaps, the last link in the chain of events leading to the end of his life. 

Lemon has Tangerine cremated after his body is recovered from the crash site. He thinks about keeping the urn so he doesn't have to let his brother go. He thinks about spreading his ashes in numerous special places in England. They never talked about what to do if one of them died. Talking about it made it seem too real, but Lemon thinks that's silly now. He just wants to do what his brother would have liked, and the only thing he can think of is to let Tangerine finally be with Sarah. To let them both rest. Lemon goes to Canada, goes to Sarah's small town and sees it with different eyes than when he accompanied Tangerine with the intention of getting Sarah back. It feels like a lifetime ago. He almost breaks down at the realization that for Sarah and Tangerine it truly was a lifetime ago. He goes to the cemetery in the evening with a shovel, intent on burying the urn with Tangerine's ashes on Sarah's plot. An unmarked grave, but not alone. Lemon is interrupted by Sarah's mother. He hurriedly explains that he knew Sarah. That they were friends. Recites details about her that make her mother's face melt from confusion and horror to a bereaved smile as Lemon says a silly little phrase that Sarah used to say all the time. Someone else who really knew her daughter, bore witness to the wonderful person she was, gives her an odd comfort despite the bizarre circumstances. She nods at the urn, “Who's that?” “His name was Tom. He was in love with Sarah. He wanted to be her husband.” “Is he the Tom she was running from?” Lemon can't look at her as he nods and says, “Yes, Ma'am. But he loved her. He really really loved her, and he never hurt her. I promise you that.” “I know. I could tell by the way she talked about him. She was just as crazy about him. Even when she was scared of him, she adored him.” Lemon can't speak due to the tears, and Sarah's mom comes closer. “Were you going to leave him here with her?” He nods. “Yeah, but…I'm sorry, I'll go–” “Don't go,” she gently reaches out to touch Lemon's arm. Loss is a universal language, the companionship and understanding of another going through it a precious commodity. “I don't mind if you let him stay with her. I'd like that. I think they would have too.” Lemon is amazed at how kind she is, how giving and forgiving. But he realizes Sarah must have gotten it from somewhere. He can see Sarah in her mom, and as she helps Lemon dig a small hole to nestle Tangerine's urn into, he thinks about how he would have enjoyed getting to know her family. Would have loved the idea of him and Tangerine having a family with Sarah and her relatives. When they're done, and before he can awkwardly shuffle off, Sarah's mother asks if he'll come have dinner with her and her husband. A friend of Sarah's is always welcome in their home. Though she also asks that this be their secret for now, Sarah's father isn't ready to forgive Tangerine. And she also asks that Lemon keep the fact that Tangerine was his brother a secret for now once she finds out. Sarah's father isn't ready yet, but in time he will be. For now, it's important for those that loved them to be together. Because for Tangerine and Sarah to be remembered by the ones that love them is the surest reminder that they existed. 

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I hope you liked it! I swear I do love Tangerine and I do love Sarah despite the ungodly levels of angst. They are together forever at the end, and Lemon and Sarah's family have each other from that point on. In the spirit of Bullet Train, something good always comes out of something bad. 

[nobodysdaydreams]

1, 5, 32 and/or 71 for the ask game! Hope you’re doing well, don’t forget hydration and sleep!

At long last I am beginning to clean out the inbox. Thank you Katie for the hydration tip and for the asks!

(1) Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

This is a hard one to answer. One shots (I consider anything less than 20k words a one shot because I have a problem, and I don’t think I can write real one shots😔), are easier in that they don’t take as long, and I can get the idea out, show you all my story, and get feedback relatively quickly. However, once a one shot is written, it’s written, and then it’s back the drawing board to come up with new ideas. Whereas with really long multi chapter fics, the idea keeps going, there’s always something new to think about, another “one shot” or character moment or twist to weave into the story, and I love seeing your reactions and how invested different people get into different subplots and storylines. What is frustrating about multi chapter fics is that there’s a lot of delayed gratification involved for me and for you as the reader, because I have twists and ideas in SOS that I want to show you and talk about and I can’t yet, because we’re not there yet, whereas for something like the Martina Redemption fic, it’s technically a multi chapter fic, but they’re short chapters, and I wrote it all over a long weekend. Whereas I’ve been writing SOS since January and rotating the idea for it since before I even got a tumblr so… yeah that’s over a year now dang. So I’d say multi chapter fics, with the acknowledgment that there is probably a balance to be had somewhere in between the two extremes. SOS is a lot of fun to write, but I don’t think I could commit to writing another huge multi chapter fic at the same time, whereas it’s a lot easier to balance multiple wips when they’re one shots.

5. Do you like constructive criticism?

Interesting question. About my writing or in general? For my writing I’d say yes, but so far I haven’t gotten any. Which might be a good thing, although I did say when I first started writing fic, “hey I’ve never done much or any creative writing before, so if you have any feedback on things I can improve, please let me know”, but I haven’t gotten anything yet so I guess that means I’m doing okay? At least I hope. As for criticisms of myself or my blog in general, I’d accept constructive criticism on that too, as long as it’s worded nicely and doesn’t trigger my RSD.

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

Ah, fishing for compliments I see /j /lh. But please do not make me choose so many of you are so good! I want to tag every fic author in the fandom, and yet I’m so paranoid I’ll forget just one or two people and would never forgive myself. So besides you @myfairkatiecat (obviously), I’ll say the authors whose stuff I’ve read the most recently: @sophieswundergarten (for her amazing Sticky fic I seriously cannot hype that one up enough), @phtalogreenpoison (the Reynie is Curtain’s prodigy AU is incredible), and @heyitsthatonesmolgay because I am waiting on the edge of my seat for the greatest fear AU it sounds so good (check out snippets here and here)!

71. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, etc. ?

Very good question. For my longer stuff, I start with the scenes and moments I have pinned down in my head that inspired the fic, bullet point the scenes in chronological order, and then write in the details that go in between and ideas for how to get from bullet point A to bullet point B and how I can write in additional “one shots” or impactful and interesting character moments to make those transitions seem less like plot filler and more exciting and fun to read and have it add something to either the characters or the story. Then when I’ve already written part of my fic, I still try to keep track of unfinished plot threads, cliff hangers, or things I plan to explain later (e.g., What happened with Sticky’s parents? Where did Isaac and Lindsey go? What’s up with Miss. Perumal’s past?). As for the characters, I do try to take the time to flesh out minor characters, because you can do that a bit more in a novel vs. tv format, but I also try to make sure I keep the main characters interesting and don’t create an unbalanced plot. I’ve talked about this before, but an unbalanced plot happens in a lot of shows where a few characters have these big mysteries that the whole fandom is super involved in and then these other main characters either end up with filler or their character development gets backtracked and rerun because they don’t know what to do with their storylines (this was one of my season 3 worries when season 3 was gonna be a thing and you can click the link to read more if you’re curious). I try to make sure all the main characters get some focus, and I also do that by letting some characters establish themselves before I start writing about other ones. For example, in SOS, that started as mostly Curtain and his friends, I establish a sense for their dynamic, and then Nicholas and his friends came into the story, and I’m slowly bringing more focus on Rhonda and Number Two, and as I’m going into season 2 I plan to write a lot more with Number Two especially, because of all the time she spends with Curtain and Nicholas in the compound.

I hope this answered your questions and thank you so much for the amazing asks (and yes, I will be drinking water). I hope you have a wonderful day! 🥰🥰🥰

[skyloftian-nutcase]

...wait we can ask you medical stuff? For fics obviously but like- I have been doing SO MUCH research on how to treat things and trying to find the best examples of medical care available for the boys. ...and this whole time I could've asked you things like how to splint a broken arm? Or what sort of break is easiest to set at home and is most likely the kind a 9 year old might sustain when falling off a tree?

Not that I'm complaining though because honestly I am loving the research and all. But I've been so unsure about what I've been writing because I'm using Google for most of my research and you know how you can get dragged around in circles when using a search engine sometimes? Or worse. It just gives you the same information just rephrased but not actually answering your question? That. Most of my research ends with "go to the hospital" when I really need to know the field medic half of it XD

Asking Dr. Google either ends up with "go see a doctor" or "you're dying" XD XD

I love teaching medical stuff, though, so never be afraid to ask! :D I might not always have an answer immediately but if I don't know I'll research it. Mind you, I just info-dumped below, so I'll put a little cut so it doesn't engulf everyone's dash lol.

How to splint a broken arm: Depends on where the break is, so we'll go through the major ones! Some Broken Bone Basic supplies that you'll need:

Padded splint! In real life they're literally just a wooden board with foam on one side all covered with plastic for easier cleaning - in LoZ land it can be a wooden board with cloth tied around it - kind of like a pillowcase except you really want padding on one side so you don't put a board directly on someone if that makes sense.

Cravats! Some kind of long cloth, like a scarf *cough cough* that can be used to tie things together.

Sling! Not always needed, but definitely needed for upper extremity injuries. To make a sling, take any cloth and fold it so you have a triangle. If you started with a rectangular/square cloth, just take the bottom left corner and bring it to the top right to make your triangle! Once you've got the triangular shape, take the point in the triangle that is opposite of the hypotenuse (ho boy dusting off my math cobwebs) and tie it into a knot. This is your anchor for your patient's elbow. I take the tip, twist it a little bit, form a circle (doughnut) with it, and feed the tip through the whole in the middle of the circle. Ta-da! Got your knot. Also now you have an instant sling! :D

Now let's get into bones!

Broken humerus (your upper arm bone): lay a padded splint over the upper arm. Tie two cravats or pieces of cloth around the splint and the arm, one above the break and one below it. Never tie on a joint! Make sure you tie the knots on the hard side of your splint so you don't have this big tight knot sitting on your patient's arm, they're already hurting enough! Once you've got the splint secured, give them a sling! I'll talk about how to tie the sling to the patient in a minute.

Broken radius and/or ulna, i.e. the two bones in your forearm. Place the padded splint under the forearm, i.e. if their palm is facing the floor, place the splint on the side of their palm. Make sure the splint covers from fingertips to elbow so they can just rest their arm on it. You might need to put like a washcloth or handkerchief bunched up in their palm so their hand can rest without their wrist being at a weird angle. Again, secure the splint to the bone by tying above and below the point where you think it's broken. Do not tie on joints. Add a sling and you're all done!

Broken wrist. Oof, this one hurts. Same song and dance as the forearm, except one of the cravats ties around the fingers/hand rather than both being on the forearm. Be careful, though! And remember to add the sling.

How to tie a sling to a Link patient! Take your anchor, the knot you made, and place it against your Link's elbow. Then you want to feed one corner of your traignular cloth between your patient's affected arm and his chest. This piece then goes over his shoulder. The other side of the triangle goes over the opposite shoulder. Got your untied corners hanging over his shoulders? Good! Now what you want to do is adjust your sling before you tie it! Stand behind your Link and twist those corners until his arm is at an adequate height that is comfortable - not too low, not too high. I usually go for having their arms at a slight angle upwards, not quite parallel to the floor. Once you've got his arm at the right spot, tie the two ends together behind his neck. Try to pad behind his neck where you tie it, put a cloth there or something so the knot isn't on him directly. Final step is to take a different cloth and tie around his slinged arm and his torso on the opposite side to ensure he can't flop his arm around. And ta-daaa you've got a sling!

Important note! Broken bones can do more than just cause pain and, well, broken bones. They can cut blood vessels, pinch nerves, do all kinds of nasty things. Always check to make sure your patient's affected extremity has good blood flow and innervation! Pinch Link's fingernails and make sure they pink up fast. That's called capillary refill and it checks how well he's perfusing. Tell Legend to wiggle his fingers (no, don't flip me off, Ledge, good grief) to ensure he's got good motor nerve innervation and his muscles aren't messed up. Tickle Sky's palm and ask him what you're doing to see if his sensory input is still intact. Check both before and after you splint your patient! You don't want to make their injury worse, after all.

OK! Next questions.

Easiest break to set at home? None of them. Please never set breaks at home. They probably won't heal properly. But if I had to give an answer for writing purposes, probably midline forearm as long as there are no complications? I.e. right in the center of one of their forearm bones. Just know it likely won't heal right if it isn't addressed.

Most likely break you'll find when a kid fall out of a tree? Probably a greenstick fracture in their arm. Greenstick fractures are when the bone only breaks partially and breaks open like when you're trying to snap a stick in half. You know if you snap a still-living stick it kind of just partially splits for you? That's a greenstick fracture. They're really only seen in kids (like pre-teen) because kid bones are still developing. Likely if your kid fell out of a tree they'd try to catch themself with their arm and then snap hello greenstick fracture. Hopefully they don't hit their head too, ouch.

Hope this helps! :D It's a lot of info, if I confused anybody, just ask. Now go make some splints and slings at home, it's fun! :D And comes in handy, I splinted my hand one time when I hurt my wrist at work.

[nothingimportantanywhere]

For the fic ask thing, after re-reading Genesis, I've just gone over and over this passage so many times and I need to know what is going through Orpheus' head at this time. What is our boy feeling, thinking I just need you to peel him apart for me for this part:

Then she feels Orpheus’s hand on her cheek, and he calls her the word that only the Shu’kyani should know. She stares up at him, and he must see the question in her eyes. “My mother called me that,” he says. “But it seems to have been forgotten amongst our people.” “Probably on purpose.” “The githzerai -” the word seems almost obscene in his mouth. “Still use it. But they have stripped it of its meaning. They use it to refer to a child who has been hurt in a training exercise.”

Behind him there is a pail filled with steaming water, and a bundle of rags. She cannot quite believe it when he picks one up and starts to dab away the dirt on her face. The varsh scrub them down after, of course, but like they are removing stubborn dirt off the floor.

There is a pile of dirty rags on the floor before she can ask him if it was true the Vlaakiths, the first ones, had been chosen from the ranks of the Shu’kyani.

“I do not know about the first,” he says. “Why my mother chose her is a mystery. But the others? Voss says it was so. He says before the lich-queen, Shu’kyani were trained in tactics and history and anything else a Queen might need to know. And the best of them was chosen to be Queen, and to take the name. Lift your foot.”

He kneels before her, and scrubs the sole of dirt and blood. The tattoos on his skull remind him of the lightning strikes that she sometimes sees across the sky in the material plane. Something in Pa’zeth makes her reach out and touch him; for a brief moment she thinks he will lay his head into her naked lap. But after cleaning her legs he stands.

And just anything else you wanna add about it, and also how Voss is feeling too. I'm so obssessed about Pa'zeth are her disdain towards Voss because it's so real and raw and completely understandable to want to rip his face off. urgh.

This is about tenderness and connection. And, of course, about Gith, his mother. I think that I base a lot of Orpheus's characterisation around the loss of his mother. I think Gith did love her son, and he knew that, and he is proud that she was willing to do anything to save her people...but at the end of the day, she still left him behind. And with our mutual h/c about Zerthimon being his biological father, he's lost both of his parents, in a society that doesn't place any value on familial bonds. Not even Voss can really understand it, and perhaps he doesn't understand it either, really, because he can't articulate it; of course he thinks/knows his mother did absolutely what she thought she had to, but perhaps some part of him believes she's still going to come back. Some part of him is always going to be a little boy waiting for his wild, dangerous, clever, brave mother come back from raid. But to vocalise this is dangerous, because he needs to present this aura of absolute certainty. And here is this person, who is probably the only person not to have either cursed him out or fallen to his feet, who is as close to a mother as githyanki is, who stands there and says: you are wrong, and here's why. She's not cowed by Voss, or by the fact she might die for saying the wrong thing. She bears herself as bravely as any warrior, and perhaps he sees her as carrying the spirit of Gith with her; not in the way that she is a conqueror or violent, but in the way she says: this is my value, and I know it, and I would rather die than accept that I am less.

He also is confronted with the messy realities of what reproduction looks like for Githyanki now. Pa'zeth is literally bleeding talking to him. She is tired and dirty. There is honour in it but no dignity. And that viscerally offends him, because what did Gith fight for if not for the Gith to be more than animals? So he's giving all that he feels he can give to her, right now: dignity. Acknowledgement. Reassurance. What I feel like he's saying to her, "you should have been given much more than you've had." This is the only place Vlaakith has allowed tenderness in Githyanki society, because it was beneath her notice. But it's not beneath his. And he craves this tiny part of it for himself. In the same way that Pa'zeth wants to be more than an animal and in this moment he wants to be less than a Prince. He wants to be a boy again, just for a moment. At some point in his past he'd have sat with his mother after battle and washed the mud off her face. The true tragedy in this moment is that he can only give Pa'zeth what she wants by denying what he wants. Tenderness and vulnerability are still seen as weakness and he can't afford to display either. As for why Pa'zeth hates Voss? Because in her eyes, he's entangled with Vlaakith. At the end of the day, as far as she sees it, he's got everything he wants; silver sword, dragon, status and he has lost...nothing. She's not only seen all of her contemporaries die, but is now experiencing the loss of someone younger. And he's now there, thinking he can tell her what to do, how to act, what to feel. Perhaps unfairly, she sees him as complicit in a system that has killed millions of their people. Plus he manages to say all the wrong things, which, not his fault, but there's a reason Orpheus sends him out.

I am here, and I am listening to you.

[x-authorship-x]

Sadly I don't know much about crows, but I've always loved the hc that Summoners pick up traits from their Summons over time, so I wanted to ask- any interesting crows facts/behaviors that Shisui might have picked up and do himself? 👀👀👀

ALSO. I've loved the thing behind Shisui's and Itachi's teeth clacking ever since you said it in one of your many author notes, can you imagine Shisui alone in his house or apartment quietly clacking to himself not really saying anything but just as a vocal stim while, like, cooking or cleaning or something (although he's probably too well-trained to let himself do that? Idk, I just find the idea adorable and I've decided to project my own constant vocal stimming onto him)

Hey!

Oooh this is a good ask, it's just a shame I missed out on Shisui's and Itachi's more 'animalistic traits' with the Crow Summons in HOPE AU because I didn't think to incorporate them earlier. It all started when I made Shisui and Kakashi start posturing.... ✨

Summoner Animal Chakra is more present in other fics, specifically WARD where Summoners are a major plot point, but Kakashi is really the only character we see with the most tangible influence from his Summons in NoT/UDB. Boo ;(

Shisui and Itachi absolutely have Corvid influences tho!

Shisui would definitely click his teeth at home, in the field the professionalism wins over but in-village there's a laxness that allows for ticks and habits.

Shisui also whistles a lot.

His fixation with the Shunshin only deepened after signing the contract and experiencing flight with Kana 🥹 he does that "weightless" drop a lot and, when he fights, you'll notice a lot of "dive bombing" or "kill stealing" behaviour (look at how he fought alongside Kisame, letting Kisame do the brute force so that he can circle and take advantage)...

Shisui also speaks in Crow more often that Itachi does, so he's more likely to slip into non-human vocalisations when tired or frustrated, all of which only adds to his little oral fixation with his capped teeth

And then...

Itachi, since he was even younger than Shisui when he signed the Contract and therefore will spend even more of his life influenced by Crow Chakra, would be even more demonstrative if he wasn't naturally more introverted.

Itachi, when he was younger, hopped a bit tho 😭 his Shunshin was more leaps than strides until Fugaku, thinking it was a problem with technique, drilled it out of him...

Itachi also cocks his head in a birdlike manner.

He preens his hair a little, swirling strands near his hairline (this is how crows do it, twirling each feather and working backwards), but he preens Sasuke even more (crows generally preen in pairs).

There are more but they do align with generic Shinobi/Uchiha behavior; however, look at all this cool Corvid Bird Fact overlap with Shisui and Itachi's Shinobi lifestyle!

Facial recognition. Corvids will not only identify different faces with friends/foes but they also spread this information throughout their flocks. Students discovered that wearing a face mask upside down just made the birds tilt their heads to recognise, and then act as they would have otherwise. This ties well with Sharingan memorisation

Patterns and problem solving. Corvids make tools, to the extent of some birds favouring one angle to another like humans are left or right handed. They're also able to quickly pick up human behaviors (like bargaining random objects, that can become extremely specific like money as the human chooses what to accept, for food) as well as solve problems (that fable with the Crow dropping stones into the water jug until it's high enough to drink? Proven real). Crows can also make astute judgement calls (drop something then go back to find it? A Corvid was seen picking the item up, washing the dirt off in the birdbath, and then leaving it out for the owner). This fits with Uchiha/Shinobi problem solving, as well as Shisui and Itachi's own abilities to look at issues sideways and figure something out.

The famous "crow funerals"! We don't know for sure that they are funerals although they're believed to be emotionally intelligent, when Crows gather around one of their dead, because it's also highly likely that they're either examining the cause of death (crime drama) or they're... Having a teachable moment (Fugaku, is that you intentionally traumatising your toddler?). Either way, this felt bizarrely on the nose for Shisui and Itachi

Crows use traffic to crack nuts, leaving inaccessible food in the road because they know the cars will smash them. This screams 'piggyback off someone else's technique' to me, which is so Uchiha

Crows mate for life but may "remarry" if one dies etc. Not saying that Uchiha are strict but... they feel things very strongly so 🤷

Crows have the largest brain to body ratio of ANY bird, it's actually comparative to a chimpanzee... Shisui and Itachi are geniuses, nuff said

Crows are one of only four species that can craft tools (humans, chimps, orangutans, crows). They sharpen sticks etc (see above about "left handed/right handed") so can we get a round of applause for genius as well as resourcefulness. Not to sound like a broken record but *gestures furiously towards Itachi and Shisui*

Crows are paranoid and will intentionally hide their food inside their feathers after pretending to place it elsewhere if they feel watched. Ummmmmm.... The parallels??

There's a precedent of juvenile crows (teens) staying with their parents family unit for a while in order to, basically, do chores and, if they choose to stick around instead of mating, raise younger siblings in newer nests. Like I'm sorry but cooperative raising??? This is so Shisui-Itachi-Sasuke-and-the-Uchiha-Cousins to me

Finally.... A flock of Crows is sometimes called a murder! Perfection✨

Basically not only are Shisui and Itachi mirrored really nicely with the characteristics and values of their Summons but their actual Summons are a great match for them in a practical sense too!

You absolutely didn't need all this info but you've got it now! 🤣

[quotidian-oblivion]

Green Leafy Croutons

The title's clickbait, it's just salad and bread. But with a ✨twist✨.

TW: raw chicken, knives, eggs, human blood

I'm gonna try out the recipe i had mentioned in chapter 2 of Break Down. My parents put this rule that me and the oldest sibling after me have to cook lunch and dinner ourselves on the weekends so after much toiling, i remembered that i had a recipe in one of my fics. So I decided to try it out. Except, i'm gonna change up some ingredients cuz they're not available and turn this into a salad with a side of toasted bread rather than a legit sandwich.

Here's the extract from the fic:

He was flashed back to a morning when Alfred was on a vacation and Jason and Tim were alone in the manor with Bruce. Since Bruce couldn’t cook to save his life, it was up to Jason and Tim to make breakfast. Alfred had said that he trusted Jason with his kitchen before he left. Tim hadn’t known what that meant, but he soon found out when Jason set out ingredients and started ordering Tim around on what to do. Within a short while, three halloumi cheese, salad, avocado, salami, and rye bread sandwiches with cream cheese and scrambled eggs were sitting on the table. It was Jason’s own recipe. And it was delicious.

So, Tim grabbed the ingredients from what he could remember and brought them back to Dick’s apartment. Setting them out, he got to work. He cooked the halloumi on the pan, chopped the tomatoes, parsley, and onions, mashed the avocado, cracked the eggs and mixed them with salt and a bit of chili. After the cheese was a light brown color, he set them aside on a plate and warmed the bread on the pan with the heat off. With all the mis en place done, he started assembling the sandwiches.

Dick, somehow, slept through the whole thing. Either he was knocked out, or he was really tired. Tim was slightly relieved that he wasn’t awake though. It meant that he had some more time to ponder things alone with no distractions.

He ate his sandwich and chewed in contempt, recalling the memory of when he made this with Jason.

I'm making this in bulk for like around 6 ppl with various different likes and dislikes btw so keep that in mind. Now let's move on to the mis en place!

Ingredients:

Tomatoes

Onions

Lettuce/parsely

Chicken

Halloumi cheese/Bri cheese

Bread

Avocado

Cream cheese (optional)

Chili

Salt

Pepper

Lemon

Oil

Ginger garlic paste/chopped garlic

That's all I can think of for now. A note on measurements: don't ask me. Heck if i know. As Jason said, "The thing about original recipes is that you measure things with your heart. You have a meeting with your soul then take it to your brain and let your hands do the work." Wise words indeed. I admire the person who came up with them.

On with the cooking!

A note on the chicken: Am I totally winging the cutting the chicken part while having 0% real experience in cutting chicken before? Totally.

Alr i asked my parents and my dad said to cut it into long french fry-like strips cuz that's what salads have and-

Yeah that's totally french fry-like

Anyway, we're done

Oil in pan and heat up ft. my messy stove that hasn't been cleaned for 30172496 years.

Ginger garlic paste. If you dont have that, then chopped garlic.

Salt, chili, black pepper, ginger garlic paste

Put chicken in pan. Careful of oil splashes. That shit be flying.

Now add the stuff i told you before. Some GG paste, some black pepper, some salt, some chili. My desi instincts are telling me to put more chili. Oops.

Now you mix-

Wait.

Hold up.

*narrows eyes* This be looking a little too WHITE. Imma add more chili.

Might add more pepper and salt along with it.

Now you mix again and-

It still be looking a little white but eh. It'll sort itself out later. Hopefully.

Now put a lid on it and put it on low flame and wait till the water evaporates.

Till then, you can clear up the mess you made while in your hurry to get stuff. I need to pray Maghrib. But you can get started on the next step (if indeed you are following along and actually making this with me. If you're here for entertainment, that's cool too, you cna have the leftovers /j)

Alright, I'm back. I checked on the chicken and eyvfrbkead it's still WHITE. It's the water and ik the spices will absorb into the meat eventually, but i couldn't smell it all that strongly... so i added more salt and chili.

If the chicken ends up making my family visit the hospital to get a tongue and throat transplant, then it's not my fault. It's its own fault for not looking like the color of my skin.

Moving on! (Unlike your criminal past- jk jk. I swear it's a joke)

Time for choppy choppy.

I like to use a cerated knife. Don't ask my why. I just do. It's easier for me.

You then dice the tomatoes into small cubes. But i... did not.

Despite my height, i cannot chop tomatoes into short pieces. I cannot cop tomatoes period. Why? Because i don't usually cook.

Alright, i do cook but only occasionally cuz being a high school student and the oldest daughter in an ambitious and studious desi family means that you don't have time for a lot of things and therefor you become a dissapointment.

At least I know how to make biryani ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Time to stir and check on the chicen!

Look... i dont know whether that's good or bad, but i'm just gonna let it be for now.

Now... time for the most dangerous part of the recipe.

Onions.

I've peeled the onion and my eyes are already burning with the pain and sorrow of a million ogres.

Is it just me or is this onion be looking a little fishy?

I just checked the chicken again and a bit of it got stuck at the bottom oopsie. A reminder to stir your chicken, kids. May your chicken be forever stirred.

My chicken's looking like this:

And it's looking rightfully white on the inside (like me) so i'm just gonna switch off the stove and put the lid back on and let it cook on the switched off stove.

Back to onions! *sobs*

I don't need much onion so this will do. Excuse me while i go cool-dry my eyes.

Hmmm... i might need more tomatoes...

Oh well, i'll figure it out later!

Green leafy

You can use parsely too but my mom said that our family doesnt like the taste of parsely so i'm using lettuce instead.

I freaking love green leafy. Look at that lustrous green.

Aaaaaaaaand now you chopchopchopchopchop-

FUCK- I CUT MYSELF

NEED TO GET THE BLOOD AWAY FROM THE GREENSSSS.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK-

Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt that much.

Look at that little poozer.

My dad told me to put my hand up and let it dry before i put a band aid on so i'm gonna have to pause for a while. I'm so glad the chicken was done before this. Take care of yourselves, guys. Don't be me.

Now to reread the chapter while I wait.

My dad put a band aid now! I went around and showed the cut to my whole family. My li'l sisters were like "show me show me!" cuz those gremlins don't like being left out. My mom started scolding me (lightly) about being careful. My dad was the total opposite, telling me to put my hand up, get the band aid, etc. Anyways, back to chopping.

Doneeee! It was a little hard with the band aid on, but i did it! We did it, we did it, we did it. Yay! Lo hicimos. We did it! And good news, the lettuce is cannibal-free.

Fre shavacado.

My mom cut it for me ^_^

Time to serial-kill.

We serial-killed the heck out of that one, guys. Good job. I'm proud of you.

Time to break some humpty-dumpties (humpty-dumptys?)

We're gonna use the same pan (kadai) we used for the chicken because we hate washing dishes.

QUICK! MIX BEFORE YOU MESS IT UP! MIX MIX MIX MIX MIXMIXMIXMIXMIXMIX

I'm gonna have to leave you on a cliffhanger here cuz i'm allowed only 30 images on a post :(

Catch ya in part 2!

Part 2

Break Down ch: 2

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Four

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  

Word Count: ~3600

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The SUV was cruising at speed down the interstate. It wouldn’t be long before the city fell away and everything around them would be either farmland or swamp. Eva sat in the back seat, staring out the window. Alexei was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other supporting his weight on the middle console. Josh was directly ahead of her. They were all listening to a local music station that occasionally cut out with dry static.

She was bored. Had been since they left the house. Neither Alexei nor Josh were saying anything to her and she didn’t know why they invited her along.

The destination—the lab—was remote, far away from Ardent Pharmaceuticals’ corporate offices. On paper, the building was mostly storage. And, from the outside looking in, that’s exactly what it was. Most people wouldn’t even notice the trap door to the right of the entrance. The stairs beneath led down to a smaller room with all of the most up to date technology for chemical engineering.

It was here that Josh’s real passion in life took place.

Eva might be good at math, but Josh was an absolute genius when it came to pharmaceutical innovation. All of his wealth stemmed from improving drugs that were popular with his clients, skimming past FDA approval by selling them under the table to every doctor and pharmacist in the surrounding area under the guise of ‘samples’. What most of their customer base didn’t know was that Josh’s improvements made what they thought was a standard formula pill into something more addictive with a high that couldn’t be matched by other brands.

It wasn’t as clean an operation as Eva liked. There were plenty of things that could get them caught and this new expansion was definitely one of them. Their distributor for the raw materials was consistent and she hadn’t noticed any shortages as of late. They didn’t need another resource for getting the raw chemicals needed to make Josh’s ‘special blend’. It made Josh’s decision to add another business partner into the mix that much more suspect.

She hadn’t seen him since that disastrous meeting, but every once in a while she would catch his scent as it faded from a room he’d been in. Eva took those opportunities to breathe deeply in an attempt to immunize herself against the feelings that scent evoked. She hoped that their next meeting would go better than the last, that her body wouldn’t betray her again.

Alexei made the turn onto the unnamed road leading to the lab with the comfort of someone who had made that turn over and over. The building rose up into view, looming darkly on the horizon. Eva watched it grow until Alexei pulled the car to a stop in the small parking lot.

Josh got out of the SUV and headed for the door, his keys jingling in his hand. Alexei cut the engine and followed wordlessly. Eva sighed as she opened the door and stepped out, as well. As she shut the door behind her, Eva was glad that she chose flats for the day instead of a pair of heels. There was no telling how long Josh would tinker around in his personal lab and places to sit were few and far between.

Eva was halfway to the door when the sound of tires rolling over asphalt got her attention. She turned and shielded her eyes with her hand as she peered out towards the main road. A sleek, black car hurtled towards them at a speed that was dangerously fast. It swung around in the parking lot, stopping cross ways over three spots not far from the SUV.

Who the fuck parks like that?

From behind her, Alexei approached. Towering over her, he followed Eva’s gaze as two people stood from the car.

“I thought they would have more trouble finding the place,” he murmured.

She almost asked him who they were, but her eyes adjusted to the distance and she no longer had to ask. Mr. Jimenez was sauntering towards them in a leather jacket, black t shirt and flared jeans. His booted feet took their time about crossing the lot, as if he had nowhere else to be.

Behind him, another man was following. He swiped at his mustache, fingers catching a cigarette and flicking it away. A plume of smoke wafted from a mouth that was set into a thin line.

Eva realized that she was staring and dropped her gaze. Blinking rapidly, she turned and went inside. They weren’t here for her, anyway. Glad for the air conditioning that kept their excess raw chemicals stable, she moved to stand a little ways away from the door to the basement. It was open, Josh waiting for no one to get to work.

Alexei’s body darkened the doorway. Their guests followed. None of them spared her a glance before they descended into Josh’s lab. Eva held her breath all the same. When they were gone, she let it out in a loud huff. She could not believe she was still attracted to him when he was dressed like such an asshole.

Now she understood why Bobbi Lynn’s husband referred to him as ‘new money’. Every piece of clothing on his body was designer, probably down to his socks. Add to it the obviously massive ego he carried in every step he took and Mr. Jimenez looked nothing short of gauche.

Underneath the clothes and the attitude and the way he looked down his nose at people was a man that Eva found wholly enthralling. The feeling made her hands clench with the need to curl into his hair. It made her mouth want to purse for a kiss.

Which was fucking ridiculous.

She was an adult. A married woman.

Maybe she got a bad batch from Bobbi Lynn—no, this started before she started taking the newer pills. Maybe she was sick. But, she didn’t feel sick. If anything, Eva felt entirely too healthy. Her body felt stronger. For the first time since she left her childhood home, she slept through the night without waking. Rose from her bed without the hangover of a restless night. Her mind was sharper, moved through decisions and equations effortlessly. And, more than anything, Eva was aware of her surroundings.

It was as if she put on glasses for the first time and the whole world suddenly came into focus. For years, she passed through life barely taking note of anything that wasn’t directly related to her survival. Now, she was doing things like lingering in the shower to feel the heat of the water. Or, putting on music while she cleaned. Just that morning, she actually leaned forward and smell the bouquet of flowers on the dining room table.

Fucking. Ridiculous.

“Eva!”

Josh’s voice startled her from the way she was pacing back and forth in thought. She gasped audibly, body freezing like she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Thankfully, Josh wasn’t climbing the stairs to look for her—probably too afraid Mr. Jimenez and his friend would touch one of his precious experiments.

“Eva!” he called again, this time with a touch of impatience.

Steeling herself, she hustled to the door and dropped down onto the stairs. Eva measured her step and let her mouth fall into a pleasant smile as she reached the landing. Folding her hands in front of her, she waited for his orders.

“Mr. Jimenez is making a delivery here in about half and hour,” Josh announced. “He’s brought us a sample to test as a matter of courtesy.”

She refused to look at him, but Eva could feel eyes on her. The room was small, much smaller than the warehouse above. There were two lab tables with various supplies on them sitting on either side of the room. Between the tables stood four men, none of which she trusted.

“I’d like you to do the honors,” Josh prompted, holding up a vial.

In it was a clear liquid that could have been water if it weren’t so thick. Josh held it out to her in offering.

One of the first things Josh allowed her to learn after taking the lead with their books was how to determine the purity of their raw materials. He drilled her over and over, applied pressure with a stopwatch and insults. Eva got it, though, could do it even in her sleep—as proven when he woke her at 2 am, dragged her to the kitchen and made her work in her nightdress.

Eva took the vial from him and pulled on a pair of latex gloves from where they sat on the table. Then, as she practiced, she measured out some of the unknown liquid into a test tube and began to run it through the process.

From her left, the man she didn’t know said something in Spanish. Mr. Jimenez replied, likewise. She guessed that English might be his second language, but hearing him speak in his native tongue made her hands shake. The glass of the tube clinked against a beaker of distilled water. She paused, and forced herself to reset.

All her practice with his scent was clearly not enough. It curled in her nose, nestled in the part of her brain that was tied to sex. In a stunning turn of irony, it occurred to her that she should feel grateful for the way she couldn’t get a handle on her hormones around him. Eva had never enjoyed sex with Josh and never once thought about striking up an affair in order to fulfill the need. All this time, Eva just thought she didn’t have a sex drive.

She was almost happy that she was wrong.

It coiled in her belly, this feeling. Warm and all too pleasant. Every shallow breath brought more heat, more...more. ‘More’ was the only word she could use to describe it. And, ‘more’ was what Eva wanted.

She wished that she could blame it on her status. Poor little omega can’t control her hormones around an alpha. It would be so much easier if that was the case. But, there were no shortages of alphas in Josh’s circle. Hell, Alexei was an alpha. Not a one of them had ever turned her head like the man watching her from his post near the stairs.

He was giving her space, she realized suddenly.

When she entered the basement, Mr. Jimenez was standing next to Josh. Eva’s husband hadn’t moved, was still looking over her shoulder from about three feet away. At some point while she was mixing chemicals at the table, Mr. Jimenez moved as far away as he could while remaining in the room.

Bless him.

Having finished her work, Eva capped the vial and handed it back to Josh, “Its pure enough to work with.”

Josh smiled. An outsider might think he was proud of her. Eva knew better. Josh was proud of himself. He’d found the new resource, he’d vetted them, and it worked out in his favor. Points for Josh.

Turning from Eva, Josh spoke to their new partners, “Looks like we have a deal.”

On cue came the sound of a truck rumbling to a stop in the parking lot. Mr. Jimenez glanced up, smirked, then climbed the stairs. Eva let the men go before her, taking her time getting to the top.

It took an hour to unload the delivery, another twenty minutes for Alexei to ensure that they got the full amount, followed by another five for Josh to quit staring at it. Eva supposed she should have been jealous. He rarely looked at her for half as long and never with that amount of intensity.

Her gaze flicked involuntarily to Mr. Jimenez and she was surprised to find him looking back. His expression was unguarded, the same as it had been on the sidewalk. She found herself caught in it, a heat creeping up her neck. Two, maybe three, seconds passed before he looked away and that stupid little smirk returned.

“Now that business is done, we will celebrate!”

Eva’s brows lifted as she looked to Josh for his response. Her husband tore his attention away from their new stock and fixed Mr. Jimenez with a smile, “Of course. I know just the place.”

She squinted at the back of Josh’s head as she followed him out to the car. Josh regularly went out with his partners, but most of them were fellow businessmen with good standing in the community. Their new partner was a stranger to their town, an unknown. Someone was going to notice that Josh was spending time with him and there would be questions.

Eva was going to say fuck all about it. She knew better than to contradict her husband in public. Or in private, for that matter. Keeping her head down, she walked right to the car, got inside, and waited for Alexei and Josh to join her.

When they did, Alexei looked at Josh and said, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Josh was all surprise, “What?”

Running a hand down his face, Alexei visibly calmed himself, “There is no reason we should be having drinks with that man.”

“Oh, please,” Josh drawled, “Its just a little get-together after a deal that went well.”

Alexei turned over the engine, “I don’t trust him. He’s shifty.”

“He’s Mexican,” Josh replied, “that’s how they all are. Besides, he’s got connections. Connections that we need.”

Eva stared at the backs of their heads, wondering what the fuck was going on. What didn’t she know about Mr. Jimenez that would make Josh so careless with his reputation?

“We can get it elsewhere,” Alexei said, with feeling.

Josh waved a hand, “I’m not paying the shipping all the way from Europe when I can get it right here in North America.”

Turning her attention to the window, Eva pretended not to listen. All the while, she wondered what it was that Josh was so intent on getting. They had plenty of money, if he needed it. Paying additional for shipping shouldn’t be a barrier.

“You don’t know that he’ll come through with those connections,” Alexei replied lowly.

Again, Josh dismissed his friend, “I had him checked out.”

“So did I,” Alexei retorted, heat in his tone, “The man didn’t exist before five years ago. His records just,” he flexed his hand between them, “poof...disappear.”

Eva held her breath, waiting for Josh to say something. The silence between the two men stretched on and on until she figured the conversation wasn’t going any further. The SUV carried them back into the city and down familiar streets to a jazz club that Josh was fond of. Alexei parked, but didn’t get out of the car.

“I’ll wait here.”

Josh sighed, “Don’t be like that. We’ve had a good day.”

Alexei remained stubbornly silent and Eva knew there would be no budging. She slid from the back seat and closed the door, waiting for Josh to move towards the entrance. He stared at his friend for long seconds, his brows drawn together. Then, with his lip curled, he slammed the door shut and spun on his heel.

The ire in his expression slipped away as Mr. Jimenez met them at the door. Eva kept her distance, saying nothing and drawing as little attention to herself as she could. She probably shouldn’t have bothered. Josh was in a gregarious mood, telling jokes and all of his little charming anecdotes that he used to endear himself to the people around him.

Mr. Jimenez smiled and laughed at all the appropriate times, drank the liquor he was given, remarked on the music and the other patrons. His friend, Javier, was more reserved, but no less engaged with her husband.

Eva was using almost all of her focus to keep her breathing even and her ass in the seat. Sipping the white wine Josh ordered for her was absolutely not helping her to relax. The muscles in her thighs shook beneath the table from where she was pressing her legs together. Heat settled low in her belly. Sweat beaded at her hairline.

Even over the other scents in the room—liquor, smoke, salt—she could smell him. Tobacco and vetiver. The cologne he favored had worn off, leaving behind a scent that was all delicious alpha.

Josh laughed loudly, breaking her away from the day dream of pressing her face into the gland behind his ear. Embarrassed, she drained her wine glass and looked around the room for something to focus on.

A waitress approached and leaned down to speak with Josh, “Sir, there is a call for you at the manager’s desk.”

For the first time in years, Eva wished to God that Josh would stay by her side. He didn’t. Rising, he told the table he would be back shortly and strolled away with the waitress in the lead. To Eva’s utter dismay, Javier muttered something about finding another pack of smokes and left the table, too.

And then they were alone—or, as alone as anyone could be in a room full of people.

She kept her eyes on the tablecloth, counted the threads and thinking that she might benefit from another glass of wine.

“So, you’re called Eva.”

Glancing up was a reflex. Having already begun to look at his face, Eva could not tear her eyes away from him. The mask of arrogance he wore like a second skin once again dissolved away.

“And, you’re called Mr. Jimenez.”

She wouldn’t allow herself to call him by his first name. That kind of familiarity would only lead to disaster. Better to keep him at a distance.

He flinched. Eva clenched her jaw to keep from apologizing for the sarcasm in her tone. She didn’t owe it to him.

Sipping from his glass, he ticked his head to the side, “I’m not going to tell him.”

The heat in her body cooled to razor sharp fear. Quickly, she calculated how much he would have been able to deduce from their limited interactions. Eventually, she concluded that he might know enough to make her life difficult, but it would be a small matter of telling Josh what he wanted to hear to assuage whatever hurt he might be feeling.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Eva replied carefully.

One side of his mouth lifted in a very different kind of smirk than he’d used before, “Of course not.” Then, “How long have you been married?”

Eva shrugged, “A little under seven years.”

His gaze turned assessing, “You’re very young to be married so long.”

She scoffed, “If I weren’t married by my age I’d be considered a spinster, Mr. Jimenez.”

Again, he flinched.

“And you?” Eva asked, her tone polite, “Is there a Mrs. Jimenez I should include in my invites to the ladies’ luncheon?”

She didn’t want to think about why she was asking this question—mostly because the reason was clear as day.

He shook his head, “No, I’m not married.”

To cover her own relief, Eva flagged down a waitress and asked for another glass of wine. When she turned her attention across the table again, Mr. Jimenez was openly staring at her. The air in her lungs got stuck in her windpipe under the intensity of his gaze.

The heat being directed at her felt like it might singe her skin. She took it in, meeting his stare with one of her own. Eva had never been so bold in her entire life and likely never would be again. She might as well enjoy it while she could.

In her periphery, Josh moved through the crowd. Quickly, she dropped her gaze to the tablecloth and tried to relax. He sat with a loud sigh, setting down the glasses he carried in each hand.

“Work never stops,” Josh announced, “Where’s your partner?”

Mr. Jimenez shrugged, “Getting cigarettes, I think. Or, he’s looking for a woman to take home.”

“Ah,” Josh breathed, “I remember those days. They’re all behind me now.” He put his arm around Eva’s shoulders, “Got the old ball and chain to weigh me down.”

Brows lifting, Mr. Jimenez replied, “You told me, yourself, that she does a remarkable job with your books. Where I come from, that’s an asset you don’t take lightly.”

Her husband was either too drunk or in too good a mood to notice the censure in Mr. Jimenez’s voice. Eva couldn’t so easily dismiss it. Two compliments. Both given with what appeared to be sincerity. And, in front of other people. It made her want to know what he would say to her in private.

They didn’t stay much longer after that. Josh had work in the morning and he didn’t like to miss his early appointments. Mr. Jimenez said his goodbyes and drove away with what seemed like little care for the fact that his partner hadn’t returned. Josh ignored the way Alexei stared him down as he headed for the car.

Eva, for her part, got in the car and leaned back in the seat with her eyes closed. The whole way home, she memorized the warmth in Mr. Jimenez’s eyes as he spoke with her. It was so different than the cool indifference he cloaked himself with in every other interaction. She didn’t like how intrigued she was by him. Didn’t like that she wanted to dig underneath his skin to find out who he really was.

After they parked in the driveway, Eva stepped out of the car and walked into the house. By the time she got to her bedroom, Eva made the decision that she shouldn’t talk with him anymore. By the time she lay her head on her pillow, she changed her mind.

[blocksruinedme]

Actual fic deadlines/priorities

Now till September 2 - My three hermitshipping bang fics are due, in a complete "can post if you got hit by a bus" version. Last possible extensions till September 8. I don't know if I'll get all three done. If I don't, I can't predict whether I'll put it down for awhile or try to get through it. If I want to wait to post, I can still possibly get the "doodle tier" of art and can add it to the collection, which is just so chill and cool of them, everything is chill and cool

September 3-18 - The burning man fics, god, I really want to post them during my (partial) top surgery and recovery. The current plan is to post chapter of three stories a day, that line up with time periods. (Like the first posting day covers approximately noon-2pm, etc). The current plan is for the final story to be posted on the final day. This means for anyone who pops in at the beginning, they can have three kinds of cliffhangers! I personally think it's super cool

September 19-late September - Recovering from surgery! If anyone has any tips, please let me know! I'm very excited! And I've had a "6 days inpatient three months recovery" surgery, so it's really about the detail of a different surgery recovery.

Late september-deceber: God, first my wips, my poor beautiful wips, along with the larper au (which might top out at three fics, we'll see... and immediately on writing that i got possessed with a flower husbands idea, very well! NO PROMISES). I'll also be editing my hermitshipping bang fics, which are allowed to be totally expanded on, including adding B plots, so... I might go off the rails there.

Onwards: If life goes to plan, sometime in 2024, probably late spring or later, I will have WAY less free time, and while I am very excited about the reason, it might stop fic entirely for awhile. @that-tall-queer-bassist has offered to help me (including up to cleaning up my speech to text into something like real notes or maybe prose). Part of why I push so hard to write is because my time having this much time is limited.

Crucial note about how I write: Sometimes what I need to work on fic is to go work on a different fic, and sometimes even publish it. I had a huge drought after limited life when i told myself I couldn't publish anything else, until i let myself do Driving After Dark and, well, I've published about 44k in 2.5 months. Sometimes I get stuck and all I can do is take a break. I now refuse to push myself hard enough on a fic that I burn out.

I genuinely have 20 wips that I want to publish. I acknowledge this is unlikely but they are all my weird little children. Things may appear in wip wednesday and never make it.

What does that note mean for you: Do not EVER pressure me to finish a fic. You may ALWAYS express enthusiasm for specific fic, and it may get it higher up the queue. Asking about timing is tricky. "i was wondering if you know when you might be publishing this one" - in practice has not upset me. "(affectionately) what happened to posting the next chapter in november?" - ruined my fucking day. Had to stop myself from a mean spirited essay about all the reasons it hadn't happened. I can not tell you how to ask this correctly. You now have this schedule here, and you can ask about how it's going (perhaps in an ask) if it's in a chill manner! I'll totally answer, including if any of the bang fics have been officially dropped from the bang (and thus i can tell you my neat ideas! all i'll say is there's some very me things and at least on surprise that might keep people from guessing it's me!)

Anyway follow @burningmanau for fun burning man pictures and fic stuff!