#i wrote about this all of once in a drabble but it's seriously my greatest preference with Jason's appearance lol

[002yb]

One of Jason’s eyes having a defined split of black and white lashes.  Maybe it’s only a portion or a 50/50 split, but it’s clearly black and white and it’s striking.  It’s the result of some forgotten trauma, some scar that’s lazarus-healed or that’s still prominent where it stretches through his lip and up his face.

Nevermind, let him be scarred.  Because Jason developing a habit where whenever he smiles, he feels the pull of gnarled skin and tries to hide himself.  It’s subtle.  He raises his shoulder, dropping his cheek to it and scrubbing over the damned scar that cuts across his face.

He’s still young.  Jason hasn’t grown out of feelings of self-consciousness yet.  Give him a mask and he’ll put on a show, but leave him bare with his scars and the white that bisects his lashes and brows and fringe -- he’s so damn young.

edit:  the speed with which @moonderly found this omgggggg thank you so much!!  The darling boy looks so cool and handsome oh my amazing!! 👀 Also -zeroes in on batarang scar- hello hello~ 

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Would you be willing to write maybe some Headcanons for R! Paladin Danse x F! Pregnant Sole? Like maybe his reaction to finding out and so on? Thank you!

Paladin Danse x Pregnant! F! Sole Headcannons

How dare you enable me like this, anon! I want you to know that this ask sent me into a writing frenzy that resulted in almost 3k words worth of headcannons (I posted about half of what I wrote cuz it just got so out of hand, and a bit off-topic, but if ya'll want to see the other half just lmk, those headcannons are mostly based off of F!Sole's labor and birth, and Danse interacting with the baby.) Also, it forced me to start writing a drabble I don't have time to finish right now (but WILL be posting sometime in the future). So, congratulations on that. I hope you're pleased with yourself.

Seriously though, this ask was my everything, Danse is my everything, and I hope you enjoy!

Also, here's part 2, if you want to check it out!

Had he heard her right? The words that just escaped her lips, surely they can't be true? Danse's eyes would widen into saucers as his bewilderment forced itself into every cell in his body at the realization that, apparently, synths weren’t nearly as sterile as he had once thought.

He would later apologize for his brash foolishness, but his initial uncertainty would compel him to ask Sole if she was certain the baby was his. 

Once he was officially convinced, and was able to move past his initial shock, Danse would be physically unable to stifle any of his reactions as the news of her condition set in. An unabashed grin would spread across his face, scrunching his beautiful, tear-filled eyes, and despite himself, he couldn’t keep from trembling; his body proving to be inadequate in containing the palpable jubilation that vibrated through every fiber of his being. The ex-paladin's normally strong, sure, form became ultimately unreliable as the weight of the news both crushed him to the floor and lifted him off the surface of the earth at its divine significance. 

The impossible had just become possible, the debilitating thoughts that had kept him awake every night since he had discovered what he was now seemed insignificant, some of his worst fears were disproved. Since the very start of their relationship, Danse had voiced all of his concerns about being undeserving of Sole’s affection, and her commitment to him, when he couldn’t possibly provide her with the kind of future he knew she deserved. A future that gave her a second chance, an opportunity to start again in this unfamiliar world, to make it just that much brighter with the hope that came with bringing new life, with starting a family. Now though, this would render those concerns obsolete as he had a brief glimpse at the future that they could share. One that he never thought he would have the privilege to experience for himself. He was about to have something he had only dreamed of having in his life, something that had been so ruthlessly denied for the entirety of his existence. He was about to have a family. Because of her. That in itself was the most precious discovery his mind had made amid the tsunami of thoughts and emotions that flooded over him in light of this news. His greatest and seemingly most unachievable aspiration was within his grasp, and the fact that it was Sole that he got to share it with, that he had the privilege to stand beside through this next great mission in their lives… he simply couldn't express his vast appreciation for her, his love for her, and his unchecked exuberance at the thought of having a new purpose in life; a new cause to be unconditionally devoted to.

Danse would practically fall on top of Sole in his effort to embrace her, clinging to her as though she were the only thing tethering him to the earth, as this news threatened to pull him straight out of his current reality. He would try to quietly voice how happy the news made him as he held her firmly in his arms; only pulling away when he realized he probably shouldn't be exerting so much squeezing pressure on a pregnant person (even though Sole would assure him that she could handle it.)

Speaking of this, if Sole thought her ex-paladin was protective of her before, well… she hasn't seen anything yet. We're talking brand new mods and constant repairs for her power armor and weapons (he would even try to continually adjust the shape of her armor to accommodate Sole's swelling belly), and perhaps he would try to find some way for the armor to monitor both Sole's and the baby's heartbeats (like some sort of modification to the medic pump.) Also, the way he deliberately stands in front of Sole when combat gets dicey? That's gonna happen a whole lot more now, it might actually get kind of annoying since he tends to block her aim, but she knows he means well. Lastly, he would be sure to keep large amounts of rad-x and radaway on hand in case of any increased radiation exposure. You can never be too careful, after all.

Danse is nothing if not a meticulous planner. In this instance, he would read everything he could find that involved pregnancy, labor, birth, and infant care; often reciting excerpts on proper nutrition, Lamaze breathing exercises, and the physical restrictions that come with Sole's condition. (Sometimes he forgets that Sole has gone through all of this before…).

The communication with him throughout the pregnancy would have to be constant on Sole’s part. Danse would be insistent about constant health check-ups done by professionals, as well as frequently curious about how Sole was feeling: their reactions, whether or not they were in any pain, the consistency and severity of their morning sickness, any and all movements on the baby’s part, everything. This man likes to stay well-informed, as it helps to lessen his anxiety throughout this whole process. 

Speaking of morning sickness, he will be obnoxious in his insistence to help Sole through it. Any time in the night, or early morning, even in the middle of missions, if Sole stops due to their sickness, he stops as well (as much as he can, anyway. If they’re in a compromising position combat-wise, he’ll be sure to cover her and everything like that.) He’ll hold her hair, rub her back and speak softly to her, unwavering in his sympathetic gaze, completely unphased due to his time dealing with sickness and wound-care in the Brotherhood. He’s got a strong stomach for sure. 

Also expect him to be the type to dote on his love. He may seem hard and unfeeling at times (at least if you don’t know him well), but he’ll be at Sole’s constant beck and call. If she ends up having strange cravings, he’ll do his best to find or make whatever it is she wants, to the best of his abilities, even going so far as to remember which foods tend to trigger her morning sickness, and which ones tend to calm her stomach, as well as the ones she craves at different times of the day. He’ll be there for her physically throughout the whole process as well, offering his warmth and constant physical contact should she request it, even if it makes him hot, or uncomfortable; sometimes he just has a hard time offering, but if she asks, he’s there for her in an instant. Later in the pregnancy, when her size makes it difficult to find sleep comfortably, he’ll try his level best to adjust himself accordingly, sacrificing his own comfort and sleep in order to best accommodate her.

Any time the baby moves or kicks, if Danse can feel or see them, he will be absolutely mesmerized by it. The small signs of life and tidbits of personality that the baby shows before it’s born will cause the ex-soldier to break into a large, beaming grin, causing his eyes to glisten with emotion at the thought that he of all people could have helped bring something so pure, so lovely, and so incredibly perfect into existence. He would be humbled and awed all at the same time, tentatively bringing a large hand to rest upon the tiny, kicking lump in her stomach, a deep chuckle escaping him at the thought of the little bundle of joy haphazardly horsing around in her belly. He would love this child unconditionally, and without abandon, from the moment he learned it existed, but these little moments where he could see the character of the child begin to shine through in such a small, physical way, would only amplify his affection for it. Some nights he would lie awake with his hand resting on her abdomen until the sun rose and Sole stirred beside him, if only at the possibility of having the sublime opportunity to feel any miniscule movements within.  

 (A little NSFW) When it comes to sex during Sole’s pregnancy, he’ll admittedly be hesitant, even before her bump is noticeable. Even just the knowledge that there is a small, fragile human being growing in her makes him apprehensive when it comes to being intimate, as he simply doesn’t want to harm her or the baby in any way. He would still agree to have sex with her (9 months is a long time for a dry spell when you’re in love, after all), but he likely will ask her to choose a position that she thinks is most comfortable, and will involve less pressure on her abdomen, often opting for things like doggy-style or having her ride him. Still though, even in these “safer” positions, he would be much more reserved than usual, only really losing himself and getting into it as he comes close to his release. He would be paying all of his attention to her verbal and physical reactions, sometimes taking the time to halt their passion to check in and make sure she was comfortable, which he used to do quite often beforehand as well, but now it would be all the more constant. He would also have quite the aftercare regimen, paying close attention to Sole’s body and the way she felt following their bout of lovemaking, noting her reaction to ensure she was never in a position that made her feel strained or unsafe.

When it comes to the baby itself, he very honestly would not have any preference regarding gender. He would love a daughter so she could be just like her mother, both in physical resemblance and in her personality, values, and overall character. Danse can’t get enough of the love of his life, so the thought of having a miniature version of her in the world absolutely thrills him beyond words. However, he would be afraid to bring something so pure into this ruined world, often worrying about his own overprotectiveness, and the way it could possibly end up stifling his daughter. Although, he remained conflicted, because nothing would please the man more than to see how her resemblance would grow to reflect her mother more and more through the years. And yet, with a son, he could finally have the opportunity to be the father that he had always yearned for when he was a child (at least, that he remembered yearning for in his... fabricated memories) but he would be worried about his son ending up exactly like him. Danse would feel pure elation at his child resembling him in any way, as that would only serve as a reminder that he was human enough to play a part in bringing another life into existence, but he was well aware of his own shortcomings as a person, and would be fearful of passing these onto his child. The way he can be cold and clinical at times, his Brotherhood background causing him to make premature judgments on others, his trust issues and anxieties preventing him from opening up to people… he didn't want anyone to be saddled with the problems that plagued him, least of all his own child. The ex-soldier would be afraid of being too hard on his kid as well, of becoming more of a Commanding Officer, and less of a father, but he would defer to Sole in his times of uncertainty, knowing that she will have the answers, as she always seems to. So, again, no preference for gender, just as long as Sole and the baby are healthy, he'll be overjoyed. 

All-in-all, this entire experience would definitely cause his anxiety to skyrocket. Long before he found out she was pregnant, and even before they were officially together, he feared losing Sole, in the way he had lost some of his previous closest friends. Now though, she was his entire future, and his current reason for living. After all, without her, he would certainly be dead. If he lost her now? When Sole herself was the most important thing in his life, the one person he cared about more than the entirety of the Brotherhood, much more than himself, or anyone else on this earth? No, he couldn’t lose her. Now she carried in her the proof that he was more than he ever thought he could amount to when he discovered his true identity, she was his whole world and the only person he wanted to share his future with. The people he once considered family had all turned their backs on him, and he never blamed them for it, but then she came along. She spared him, she saw him for more than he was, more than he could ever see himself as. Sole showed him that it was still possible to care for him, she taught him how to love, and made him realize that he had the ability to care for someone in such a way in return, she agreed to share every bit of herself with him, and allowed him to do the same, free of judgement or discrimination, despite knowing what he is. This woman agreed to share her future with him, and that in itself made him more grateful than he could possibly hope to say, even with his extensive vocabulary, he wasn’t sure he could ever properly articulate just how incredible she was. How happy she made him, how she turned his apprehension and self-hatred into ash and fanned the flames of his new beginning, bringing to light everything good in the world, everything that made his life worth living, and amplifying it until he, the man who very nearly ended his own life just a short time ago, couldn’t see a reason not to go on. When he had so much left to live for, so much love in his life, and promise for his future, he couldn’t allow any of it to be snatched away. He would do anything to ensure her health and safety, and when the baby is finally born, Sole can expect this passion, protectiveness, and fierce love to permeate every action that he takes for as long as they know him.      

[morsobaby]

this is my bestie, eric/elvis :3. he uses he/it pronouns, which is pretty epic! ik it likes brokenstar alot, i wonder if eric wants to share its hcs about him? also, elvis has really good art and ocs! i like them alot :3

Ayyy bestiee ty :] glad you like my creations! Your art style is so arty I like the colors and textures of it. This took longer to reply to bc nobody's asked me headcanons before so I got pumped about it and had to think carefully but here! (It's long sorry shdhf)

He always had a booming and sorta raspy voice but it became alot quieter and scratchier once he ended up in the dark forest. I actually took some of this from @morningmask27 but I like the idea that his voice is quiet and sore bc of the deathberry incident. Back alive he made his presence very known through his volume but after death he makes others listen carefully and only raises his voice when needed

This is apparent from my fan drabble I wrote for him but I imagine since he was always an abnormally strong kit and didn't get the nurture and care he needed, that he believes kits are just like that. Like "I was raised like that and turned out great and powerful! Any kits complaining are just stupid wussies". Deep inside he craves validation but he justifies cruelty by viewing nurture as weakness. He was deeply affected by the bullying he faced as a kit and to cope with the rejection he took it as a part of himself, to "rise above it" so to speak. Can't be hurt by the lack of friendliness if you don't actually need it!

Clumsier socially, he's skilled at manipulation and deceit because people aside from Yellowfang were never very genuine to him. He wasn't taught emotional regulation and proper communication so abusive behaviour comes easier to him. He never bothered to learn anything aside from lashing out and stomping everything and everyone down. I also think Raggedstar and Foxhearts spoiling and putting him on a pedestal was part of the cause for this. He had to be the greatest

For a short time in his kithood he seriously considered and hoped to become a med cat to train with Yellowfang but it quickly changed. To compensate he was vocally very "un-medic" like and criticised them all the time. Although, through battle he got pretty skilled at cat anatomy and how to use that knowledge for his benefit. Don't ask him tho, that's medicine cat business!

For me it's hard to imagine anything romantic for him, as far as I remember the books he was never interested in any relationships at all. I think he probably wouldn't have been able to navigate relationships where he'd have to be vulnerable anyway, so either he never focused on dating or took very shallow, surface level interest in some cats whom he thought were strong and better than others. Of course, Tiger/Broken would make for a neat ship in my opinion, but I view them as allies more. Also He/Grr Brokenstar u_u

Honestly hard to say many sexuality/romantic headcanons for him bc he tends to be a less popular villain and less "queer" feeling to most of the Fandom. So I'm kinda scared to get people on my ass about it. But ykno what. He could very well be trans. His narrative of being rejected and making himself into something stronger to compensate, I think it'd work for either being a closeted trans cat for the majority of his life or for openly becoming queer to embrace his identity after being bullied about it earlier. He could also be a closeted gay or bisexual very easily

[jamaiskookie]

How To Ask Your Crush Out: A Guide For Dummies [knj x reader]

⚖ warnings: intense amount of crack and very very trashy writing 

⚖ word count: 3.3k (very smol boi today, just wanted to get this little drabble out)

⚖ genre: crackity fluff; my specialty :-)

⚖ A/N: been preparing for halloween so forgive me for the short fic, i’ve been pUMPING out content for you guys recently. 

masterlist asks 

⚖ synopsis: Prof. Kim Namjoon is pleased and delighted to present his new class: How To Ask Your Crush Out For Dummies; A comprehensive, follow-along six step guide for the introverted and shy. 

A triumphant Kim Namjoon jumps into frame in front of the huge chalkboard in a huge lecture hall, holding a piece of white chalk in one hand and a pointer in the other, with a slightly maniacal grin stretched on his face. His black thick rimmed glasses are crooked and skewed, sitting on the bridge of his nose, completely lopsided. He’s been awake for- oh he doesn’t keep count. Possibly 28 hours by now. 

“Good afternoon, everyone!”  (It’s 6 in the morning, and nobody is in the audience.) He stretches out the long, metal chalkboard pointer, who he has named Bertha, and smacks it against the chalkboard. It echoes through the empty hall. He secretly loves the sound the long pointer makes. It’s so satisfying, and the fact that he got it on Amazon Prime for only like 2 dollars makes the sound so much better. 

“Welcome to today’s class!” He’s still talking to an empty room. It might be the desperation in him, or just his good ole’ friend sleep deprivation fueling his somewhat insane behaviour. “Today I am completely focused on solving the greatest mystery I have ever encountered in my lifetime. Arguably, this is the most scrutinised cold case ever seen in the world. Today we’ll be tackling: How To Ask Your Crush Out. Would anybody like to start off by introducing themselves, their crush, and how long you’ve been infatuated? Hm?” Crickets. 

“Ah, there’s nobody here!” Namjoon exclaims cheerfully, as if he only just realised. He swings back, turning to the chalkboard and continues teaching. “My name is Kim Namjoon, or Professor Kim to you,” Again, completely empty room. “And I have had a crush on Y/N L/N for almost two years now.” His smile falters when he realises it really has been two whole years. Clearing his throat, he smacks an A3 sized picture of a pretty girl onto the chalkboard. 

You are wearing a long cardigan sweater in the photo, candidly reading with headphones wrapped around your neck. Namjoon has written a barely visible small ‘Y/N, October 4th’ on the top corner of the picture. He’s always had a bit of a photography hobby, but his pictures always seem to turn out better when you are the subject. 

It’s a bit odd how you look so much better when you don’t know he’s taking a photo. All the selfies and old pictures from university he has of you are just as beautiful, but there’s something ethereal about you in your natural state. Sitting down and reading a book in a library. That photo is miles better than any of the stupidly extensive photo-ops you plan out for your Instagram pictures. He stares at the photo before turning back to the (imaginary) class. 

“Let me introduce the- as the kids say- lomél. I believe this is an abbreviation for Love Of My Life. L-O-M-L, if anybody wants to write the spelling down.” He swerves Bertha around to point at your picture. “This,” He says, seriously. “Is Y/N L/N, my… my friend since freshman year of university. I have never confessed my feelings to her, despite trying many, many times. Today, we’re going to trouble-shoot and hopefully solve this problem, while examining a shy person’s abilities to socialise and freely have a love life.”  Namjoon ignores the small voice in his head that mentions how a successful Philosophy professor who speaks in front of hundreds of students every day such as himself should be able to say ‘I like you’ to the girl he’s had a painfully obvious crush on for the past two years. 

“Step ONE:” Namjoon yells, writing a big ‘1’ on the chalkboard. “Do not start off a confession by mentioning a Confucius quote if your crush is not in the philosophy or ethics community! They will not understand no matter how obvious it is!” On the chalkboard, he draws an old man with droopy eyebrows and huge beard- Confucius. Then he draws a huge circle around it and crosses it out with a line using so much force he almost breaks the piece of chalk in his hand. 

“In fact, just don’t mention anything about philosophers! And don’t try to confess to them through a math problem, they will not understand!” Namjoon winces. He learned that one the hard way. (He asked you to isolate ‘1’ in ⅓ < 3, which is a seventh-grade level inequality. You had pushed him away and yelled at him for making you do math. The answer to the inequality equation would have been 1 < 3u.) ((1 < 3u = I <3 you. He thought it was pretty obvious.)) 

He draws a subtraction and addition sign and draws another circle, crossing through it. 

“Step TWO!” Namjoon shouts, cringing at the horrible scratchy noise the chalk makes against the board. “If you do get the chance to confess to them and manage to get through without substantially embarrassing yourself, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT laugh and agree if they ask if you are joking! They will! Laugh along with you! While you try! To hide your pain!” 

“I cannot emphasise this enough!” Namjoon is basically screaming by now. He hopes nobody from campus comes in to complain. The picture of you on the board with the symbols that he’s drawn along with the big ‘FLIRTING AND DATING 101’ written on the top of the board could lead to some severe misunderstandings. “Do not laugh if that ever happens again- I mean, if it ever happens to you! It’s more likely than you would think if you are in love with a dumbass! It will happen! Misinterpretations and concerns will happen! Learn from them!” Namjoon writes a huge ‘laughing to hide the pain = bad ❌’ onto the board. 

“Does anybody have any questions?” More crickets. 

“Okay then, moving on!” Namjoon writes a ‘3’ below the notes for step 2. “Step THREE: Confessing via call, facetime, or handwritten letter would be optimal for the average introvert. I suggest a handwritten letter would be best for this kind of confession. Still not ideal, but it gets the job done. Can someone tell me why a handwritten letter would be better than a call, facetime, or anything on the internet?” Without waiting for his non-existent introvert class to respond, he snaps his fingers, a satisfied look on his face. “That’s right! Facetiming or hearing your crush’s voice would be too nerve wracking and inevitably, you’ll mess up and say something like ‘Did you know that Barbie’s real name is Barbara Millicent Roberts’ instead of ‘I’ve liked you for two years’...  I do not speak from experience.” 

Awkwardly, he clears his throat again, averting his eyes from literally nobody. “Texting would not be good! Texting is considered insensitive and is not a good way to confess your feelings. If the idea of a face to face confession is too intimidating or not ideal in your introverted situation, the aforementioned options would be your best choices. I strongly advise you to stick to those three. In order of a likelihood for a successful confession, it goes: Letter, facetime, then call.” He writes ‘letter > facetime > call > speaking in real life (?)’ on the board.

“hoWEVER,” He says, pointing at the large ‘3’ he wrote with Bertha. “If you do end up choosing to write a handwritten letter- write this down, this is an important note- do NOT forget to sign your name! Your crush will end up throwing it away thinking it’s a random admirer or a prank. MAKE SURE TO WRITE THIS DOWN!” On the board, he writes down ‘My name → Kim Namjoon.’ He nods thoughtfully. “Yes,” He says. “It’s important to write your name.” He mutters it over and over, staring glazed at the words written on the board. 

Close to bursting into tears, he grabs a hold of his hair and cradles his head in his hands. “Why didn’t you write your fucking name, Namjoon?” He frustratingly mutters to himself. Sighing, he puts his hands on his waist, marvelling at what he’d written so far. The peaceful silence doesn’t last for very long. 

“STEP NUMBER FOUR!” It’s not like him to be so loud. It’s probably a good, balanced combination of his lack of sleep and being alone with his inner thoughts. He’s pretty sure he has an alternate personality who thinks he’s Freud. Freud occasionally throws in some pretty deep psychoanalysis prompts for him to consider when he can’t sleep. 

“If… And only if you build up the courage to ask her out in person-! Well, firstly, congratulations, we’re all very proud of you. Secondly, do it in public! You might be thinking, Professor Kim, why on earth would I want to do it in public? Getting rejected in public is so much more horrible!? Well, BELIEVE ME, UNBELIEVERS- Getting rejected in public is sO much better than getting rejected in private! Due to our tendency to not draw attention to ourselves and the way we like to shrink in public, it’s much more likely that we won’t break down in tears if we get rejected in public! Well, once you get back home, you might start breaking down, so maybe this is just a temporary solution, but it’s still better than sobbing in front of your crush when you devastatingly get rejected!” 

Knitting his brows together, Namjoon corrects himself. “Not when you get devastatingly rejected, sorry. If. If. Yes, if. If you get devastatingly rejected. Come to think of it, in a purely logical way, you have a 50/50 chance of succeeding in your confession. ‘I like you, do you like me?’ That’s a yes or no question, isn’t it? A confession is exactly the same as flipping a coin! You have a 50% chance of getting heads, 50% chance of getting tails. Either way, you get on with your life despite getting heads or tails. So… the odds are kinda in your favour!” 

“Except when you flip a coin, you wouldn’t get nervous to the point where you accidentally push the coin into a mud filled pond where the coin’s favourite shirt got ruined so then the coin proceeded to ignore you for the next two weeks, making it the most miserable two weeks of your entire life… But that probably won’t happen again.” Namjoon mutters underneath his breath.  “Coins don’t wear shirts anyways.” Somehow, that seemed to comfort him. He writes down ‘coins can’t wear shirts’ on the chalkboard. 

“Step number FIVE!” Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of the espresso that’s been sitting on his desk for hours. “What was step number five agai- oh right. Step number five: look your best!” Namjoon catches sight of his reflection and winces. “Okay, maybe I don’t have a great example right now.” He reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, almost puking when he feels the amount of grease and gunk buried in his scalp. He should probably shower. And get some sleep. His eye bags do not look very attractive right now. Maybe he should get a haircut too, it’s kinda getting wild up there. In his own defence, he’s been standing in this exact pair of sweatpants and glasses for the past couple hours, so he smells a tiny bit. Don’t girls like it when guys wear grey sweatpants? Frowning, Namjoon makes a mental note to do some research later on. 

“Shower, change, put in contacts, cologne, flowers…” Namjoon starts writing a to-do list onto his small notebook. “Would she like flowers, actually? Is it misogynistic of a guy to bring flowers or is it just a cute, nice gesture? Am I overthinking this?” His phone vibrates in the middle of his feminism breakdown, and he pats his back pockets before realising his phone was across the table. He grunts as he leans over to pick it up, and thoughtlessly, he accepts the call and brings it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Your voice is both a comfort and a shock to hear so early in the morning. He can already see you sighing aloud and scrunching up your nose cutely, a habit you picked up from him himself. He does it when he’s embarrassed, but you do it when you’re angry. It doesn’t really work because now whenever you get mad he just swoons and gushes over your cute nose and chubby cheeks. 

“aH- Um… What time is it?” Namjoon fumbles around, jumping up. 

“It’s like 7 in the morning? Hello, you promised to come workout with me today? Come open your door, I’ve been ringing your doorbell for forever, but I think it’s broken. I’ll call the repair guy for you later.” Namjoon lets out a nervous laugh, guiltily looking at his shoes even though he knows you can’t even see what he’s doing right now. 

“It’s already seven? Wow, time flies really fast. I’m- ” He yawns, bringing the phone away from his ear for a moment. “- really tired.” A beat passes by. How is it possible that he can hear you get angry at him from here?

“Namjoon.” Another awkward laugh rings through the lecture hall. 

“Ahahha. - Yes?” 

“Are you at work right now?” You ask, voice suddenly turning stone cold. 

“Um, well, that’s a debatable question. See, is it really, honestly my work if I love doing it? Sure, it makes me a living, but of course I don’t consider it to be my workplace, you know? Like, I get to come in and do what I love every single day, educating the next generation. It’s actually a really bad mindset because once you refer to your job as ‘work’ you don’t-”

“Namjoon.”

“Okay yes, I’m at work.” He relents, pushing his glasses up and sighing. 

“Joon, it’s seven! Like, seven in the morning! Have you been in there since you clocked in yesterday morning?” You ask worriedly. 

“Uhh, I think so?” To be honest, he’s been here for two nights already, crashing out on a beanbag and brushing his teeth in the staff bathroom when he needs to. 

“Namjoon!” He mumbles out an apology. “What the hell could you have been doing in there? You don’t even have that many classes this week!” Namjoon lets his eyes trail over to the chalkboard, then back down to his notebook. 

“Uh… it’s kinda complicated?”  

“Okay, okay, I’ll come home now, don’t worry!” He says, even before you can demand he take care of himself. Sometimes, you’re just a teensy bit overbearing. It’s a messed up miracle he managed to fall in love with you in the first place. 

“Be careful, okay? It’s flu season, too, so you really can’t be this reckless! You’re literally going to drive me into an early grave, for fuck’s sakes. You’re always fussing over how overworked I am, so how could you not take care of yourself? That’s so hippo- hypo- ugh, what’s the word?” 

“Hypocritical.” Namjoon says into the phone while packing up his things. 

“Hypocritical, yes. You better be here in ten minutes or less, Kim. Come home, take a shower and then sleep. I’m guessing you have done neither of those things since yesterday.” Namjoon doesn’t have the decency or humility to give you an honest answer, so he just stays silent. His eyes are still fixed on the chalkboard. Where was he at when your phone call interrupted? Ah, yes. Step number six: ‘I love you.’ Step number six was a piece of advice he had gotten from Min Yoongi, a music theory professor who taught just a couple minutes away from Namjoon’s office. He’s been dating Jung Hoseok, another mutual friend of Namjoon’s, for a few years now. 

“What do you mean?” Yoongi just blinked when Namjoon asked him, stared blankly at him, lips threatening to pull up into a smirk. 

“What do you mean, ‘What do you mean’?” Namjoon said, huffing. “How did you confess to Hobi?” 

“Bro,” Yoongi said, now freely laughing at Namjoon. “If you can’t confess to her, just wait until you get around to thinking about proposing. Never been more nervous in my life, swear to god.” Namjoon had never been a violent type. Up until he met Yoongi. 

“Just- tell me how you did it, would you?” Yoongi gave a rare, small smile and beckoned him closer. He leaned in, about to tell Namjoon a big secret. 

“Just say it.” He whispered into Namjoon’s ear. Namjoon rolled his eyes, pulled away and rested his head on the sofa. 

“That’s the most useless thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“No it’s not!” Yoongi also leaned back into his seat. “Just say it. ‘I love you.’ It’s nothing difficult. Just say it!” Namjoon scoffed and left, but Yoongi called something out while he was walking away. “Hey, you’re going to lose her if you don’t do anything.” Namjoon froze, but continued to walk. Yoongi watched, two seconds later, amused as Namjoon came rushing back in, sat himself down on the sofa and demanded Yoongi tell him everything he needed to know. 

Thus, his six steps were born. 

If Min Yoongi, a person who is possibly even more shy and even more introverted than Namjoon, (Which is a big feat) can ‘just say it’, he should be able to do it easily. Namjoon nods to himself, rolling his head back and cracking a neck bone. 

Taking a deep breath, he speaks into the phone. 

“Hey, I have something to tell you.” 

“It can wait,” You say. It’s so like you to ruin a love confession, Namjoon thinks, laughing. “Come home, go sleep for a couple hours, then we can talk. It’s not important, is it?” He stares at the chalkboard, letting out a satisfied exhale. 

“Nope.” He says. “Not that important. I’ll tell you later.” 

“Okay,” He hears you grunt from the other side of the phone, shuffling around. “Hey, I’m gonna hang up first, I’ll wait for you to get here. Where’s your spare key again?” 

“Underneath the compartment in the hanging plant. Yeah- the one above the front door.” He hears the familiar jingle of his keys and your adorable ‘a-ha!’ from the phone, and his smile stretches wider. 

“Ohh, okay, got it. Thanks! You don’t mind if I go in first, right?” 

“Nah.” 

“Okay, bye!” Before he says it back, you hang up, and he’s left with an annoying beeping sound that repeats in his ear. He misses you, Namjoon muses to himself. He hasn’t seen you for much too long. Happily, he skips to the back of the lecture hall. (which he then immediately regrets when he finds out his legs don’t work properly after staying in the exact same position for hours without end.) He doesn’t even mind that you’ll see him in this horrendous state if he gets to see you fuss over him again. Your soft side coming out is like spotting a rare bonsai tree on sale in a run-down store- extremely special and only happens once in a while. 

Okay, that analogy was really bad, he just really wanted to mention his bonsai trees.

He spares one last glance to the filled chalkboard. With good luck, nobody will walk in and see that mess all over the board. He’d probably get fired. 

“I love you.” He says to himself. Maybe Yoongi was right. It does sound pretty easy. Namjoon walks out of the lecture hall, switching off the lights and running off to see you. 

Kim Namjoon’s Six Steps Towards Confessing Your Love: Introvert Edition

Do not refer to anything academic or clever in your confession. 

Do not laugh when they ask if you are joking once you confess. 

Letter > facetime > call

Confess in public. 

Look your best!

Just say it. 

⚖  wanna talk to professor!joon? or add yourself to the taglist?

[let-it-raines]

Hey so I reallllly need a drabble of pregnant!Emma getting a message from sleazebag Neal the ex asking if she's available? And Emma's response to said shitty ex? I love you forever you lovely human 😘💕

This totally isn’t something that happened to me in real life, totally not at all. And @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @thejollyroger-writer and @shireness-says didn’t help me come up with responses to it. Definitely not 😉

And I definitely didn’t forget to post this the night I wrote it. 

Shoutout to my husband for his responses to this in real life. lol. 

-/-

It’s a transition. That’s all.

Killian got a new job in a new city, one that’s only four hours away, but the traffic often makes commutes so much longer. Last weekend when she went to visit him in the hotel he’s staying in, she swears it took her seven hours total to get though all of the traffic. Maybe it wasn’t actually that long. Maybe it simply felt like that because words can’t even describe how much she misses him while he’s away. It’s a weird thing to be separated from her husband, especially when they got married just a little over two months ago, but Killian really wanted this job, wanted this career path, and since she wasn’t particularly tied down to her old job, moving didn’t really cause much of an issue other than having to sell the house they’re living in, find a new one in the new city, and, well, dealing with the fact that she’s four months pregnant.

(Everyone can do the math for themselves on the wedding date and the progress of the pregnancy. She doesn’t care. Neither should anyone else.)

So she spends her unemployed days packing up the house, organizing trinkets and clothes and getting rid of the junk they’ve managed to accumulate in their three years of living together. She’s found at least five pizza cutters, and a part of her wonders how in the world that happened since they usually order from Gino’s three blocks over. But whatever. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s tired of boxing things up, tired of having to go out to get more packaging, and tired of trying to find something to watch on Netflix at night when usually she has a sparring partner in figuring out what they’re going to fall asleep to.

None of this is her favorite thing in the world, but then again, she’s not going to complain (too much) about not having to deal with Killian’s weird, overly organized self. She’ll deal with that when they’re unpacking and he wonders why she packed some of their plates in the same box as a few blankets.

(Obviously to protect the plates.)

Her phone buzzes from its spot on the kitchen counter, and she rises from the ground, pulling her yoga pants over the slight swell of her stomach before leaning over the counter and looking at her screen.

Holy shit. Like, holy shit times two.

Neal Cassidy: So I hear you and Jones aren’t living together anymore.

She cackles. She really does. Everything about her ex-boyfriend, who cheated on her by the way, texting her to talk to her about the supposed demise of her current relationship is absolutely hysterical. For one, her relationship is fine. She and Killian are solid. Well, there was that one time he suggested she didn’t need so many pairs of boots, but other than that, they’re fine. And they are still living together. Not currently, but it’s not as if she’s staying in this house while Killian lives in the new one in Portland.

But also, why in the world does Neal know anything about what’s currently happening in her relationship? She hasn’t talked to him in over half a decade. The fact that she still has his number is surprising even to her. And she had no idea they still had mutual friends.

God, she hopes they don’t still have mutual friends.

Taking a screenshot of the text, she sends it to Killian, no caption required. He texts back within a minute.

Killian: Damn. You gonna leave me then?

Emma: I mean, I was thinking about it.

Killian: I wouldn’t blame you. He’s such a catch texting you like that because he thinks we’re separated.

Killian: We made it two months, love. Be proud of that.

She chuckles underneath her breath, adjusting her feet and bringing her bottom lip between her teeth as her thumb hovers over her screen.

Emma: Should I text him back to mess with him?

Killian doesn’t send back any words, just a string of gifs of people eating popcorn, and she laughs again at his ridiculousness before pulling out a barstool and sitting down, switching over to Neal’s message to text him back.

Emma: Yeah, we got married, I got pregnant, and then we decided it wasn’t really right for us anymore, you know?  

Neal Cassidy: That sucks, Ems. I’m sorry about all that. You know I’m always here if you need me.

“Oh my God,” she mutters to herself in complete disbelief over the fact that she’s even having this conversation.

What does Neal think he’s getting out of this? That she’s going to go back to him? Does he not remember how their relationship ended? That he ended it? And that it’s been a long time?

And he knows that she’s pregnant, so he’s definitely not trying to talk to her to get any kind of long-term thing.

It’s just…what the hell?

Groaning, she gets up and walks toward the freezer, opening it to look for some kind of ice cream. Except they have no ice cream. Did she eat it all? Did Killian throw it out while he was here last weekend?

She’s going to kill him if he did.

And then she really won’t be living with him anymore.

Okay, that thought process got weird. She’s not actually going to murder Killian for the possibility of having thrown out her ice cream. That would be excessive. Plus, she loves him or whatever. That’s another reason to keep him around. And she really doesn’t want to be the one to have to get up in the middle of the night to get herself ice cream when she’s the size of a whale and really, desperately needs food.

Being pregnant is great. Just a grand ole time all of the time.

Sighing in defeat, she picks up her phone again, scrolling through a few more texts that Killian has sent her.

Killian: If you do text him back, you should talk about your boobs. They are bigger now than when you were with him.

Killian: I realize this is so you can feed our child one day, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate them.

Emma: You’re so weird.

Killian: I miss my wife and her breasts. It’s not that weird.

Emma: Did you throw out my ice cream?

Killian: If by throw out you mean I ate it, then yeah.

Emma: You don’t even like it.

Killian: I like the banana sunday flavor.

Emma rolls her eyes and swipes out of Killian’s messages, thumbing back through the list and clicking on Neal’s message. The guy was an asshole to her for years, broke her heart, and he’s obviously still a little sleazy. Why shouldn’t she mess with him some more?

Emma: You know, now that you say that, I really am looking for someone to get me ice cream in the middle of the night if you know what I mean.

Neal Cassidy: Oh?

Neal Cassidy: What exactly do you mean by that? 😏

Seriously? She really hopes he’s drunk because there’s no way he can be this dumb sober.

Emma: I mean that I’m over four months pregnant and sometimes I want ice cream in the middle of the night. and it would just be SO inconvenient for Killian to have to get out of bed when we have you to get me ice cream instead. So you’re really doing us a favor! Thanks so much!

This is by far the dumbest conversation she’s ever had to have, at least in the past few years, and she takes another screen shot to send to Killian, figuring he’s probably bored sitting in that hotel room by himself with an internet service that isn’t exactly fantastic. He deserves some entertainment too, even if he did eat her ice cream.

Killian: You are the greatest woman I have ever known.

Killian: I love you so bloody much.

Killian: I still think you should have talked about your boobs, but this is all good too.

She rolls her eyes once more. Her weird, charming, husband.

Neal never does text her back, obviously getting the hint, and when Killian comes home that weekend, he brings her three different pints of ice cream.

He only eats the one.

[five-wow]

Author Asks

Rules: answer these questions and tag five other fic writers to do the same.

I was tagged by the wonderful @novemberhush. Thank you, omg, because I love rambling about writing and this is the best kind of opportunity to do so, handed on a silver platter, ahh. 😊

-

Author Name: Square / Squares / SquaresAreNotCircles

Fandoms You Write For: I’m a fandom hopper! In the past year or so it’s been Hawaii Five-0 (a truly ridiculous amount), Shadowhunters, Venom, Harry Potter, due South and Stargate Atlantis. Other fandoms I’ve written at least one fic for are Twilight, Doctor Who, Torchwood, Glee, BBC Merlin, BBC Atlantis, Teen Wolf, In The Flesh, Star Wars, Supernatural, the MCU and High School Musical. And uh, Alexander the Great/Voltaire fic (which would be... history fandom? RPF?) and one (1) Judas/Jesus Biblefic. If we’re getting really technical, also a tiny little bit of One Direction fic.

It should be noted that all of this is about fic that ended up getting posted somewhere on the interwebs - there are multiple Star Trek (TOS/AOS and DS9) fics lingering in my drafts (!! one day I will finish one of them), as well as some How To Train Your Dragon, The Good Place and Deadpool stuff, and definitely more I’ve forgotten.

Where You Post: Since I made the switch to writing in English everything has landed on ao3, but I used to write mostly in Dutch, so there’s still close to a million words, I think, under my name on quizlet.nl (not to be confused with quizlet.com, which is a very different website).

Most Popular One-Shot: That depends on how you’re measuring popularity! Going by kudos, it’s Tell me I’m perfect (but tell me the truth), a Magnus/Alec Shadowhunters fic. It’s the truth is a really old fic about Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood from Harry Potter that has the most hits out of all my works, and That time Steve kissed every single Avenger (and also Bucky), an MCU Steve/Bucky fic, has the greatest number of comment threads.

Also, since this is an h50 blog: for my fic in this fandom Wanted: partner (in crime) has the most kudos and hits; You had me at meow has the most comments.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: I’m working on one for h50 (going slowly, so slowly), but I don’t have any posted to ao3. I used to write a lot of multi-chaptered work in my quizlet.nl days, and I think my most popular fic there was probably the second fic I ever wrote, when I was fourteen or fifteen, which was a next-gen Harry Potter fic with shifting and overlapping POVs from the three Potter kids. It was kind of, well, not great, but it’s probably what really cemented my writing habit, it’s still my longest fic ever (over a 100k!) and I got my first fandom friends out of it, including one I’m still in contact with to this day, even though neither of us writes much if anything for Harry Potter anymore.

Favourite Story You Wrote: Ohhh, that’s such an impossible question, especially because I’ve been churning out one-shots like I might actually be getting paid for it, so there’s so much to choose from, which is a thing I have difficulty doing at the best of times, holy shit. Uh, I once wrote a 70k Remus/Sirius (Harry Potter) modern college-ish AU in Dutch that I still like; weirdly, I think that Biblefic holds up (also Dutch), and the HSM fic is fun to reread once in a while because of the fourth wall break, as is That escalated quickly, a Percy/Oliver fic. Ooh, and the fic about Shuri and Stucky and a goat!

For h50, it’s even harder to choose, because my preferences change pretty much weekly (a combination of newer fic being shinier, looking back at fic from even just a few months ago and finding things I would have done differently now, and comments influencing the way I personally look at my own fic), but right now, I’d say I still really like the fic where Steve adopts some guinea pigs, the one with the slightly tipsy team bonding by talking about mutual crushes and this 9.11 coda fix fluff getting together thing.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: That Biblefic, haha, because it’s a very complicated topic and my aim was definitely not to offend. People were really sweet about it, though! Mostly, they were kind of shocked it wasn’t crack, but that’s fair, because so was I.

Also pretty much anything I post in a new fandom, really, and low key just... anything at all. I’m always a little scared I tagged something super badly or accidentally copy-pasted the wrong text or unknowingly wrote something super offensive or whatever, despite my double- and triplechecking of the posting form. (I’m also still kind of scared people on ao3 will randomly decide they hate my fic and my writing and me personally (ao3 is really big and very anonymous and coming from the small town that was quizlet.nl even in its heyday, that’s scary), but that fear has abated as I’ve posted more, just because the data is showing pretty conclusively that thought is as irrational as it sounds. Everyone is always so nice, gosh.)

How Do You Pick Your Titles: Mostly, I steal lines from random songs. I have a small pile of song lyrics to use as potential titles, because going on a seperate hunt for every new fic would take most of my waking hours. Sometimes, I’ll use a pun (like You had me at meow or Retail Therapy) or something else that I think sounds good, especially if the fic is mostly comedy and/or has a specific premise that would do well in a title (like Five times the Governor of Hawaii suspects his taskforce leaders are violating fraternization policies (and one time they tell him they are)).

Do You Outline: I’m mostly writing fic of (sometimes much) less than 5k at the moment, so not really. I do sometimes write tiny bits of a bunch of scenes and then fill in the rest around that, which is a kind of outline, in a way. For longer works, I usually make a one page bullet point list of things that need to happen and work from there, because I can’t do really extensive outlining or I’ll just get caught up in the details and lose all of the oversight a tool like that is supposed to give you, as well as most of my enthusiasm for the project.

How Many Of Your Stories Are Complete: Of the ones posted? On ao3, all of them, because unfinished posted one-shot works would require some strange bending of those concepts. On quizlet.nl, I do have some abandoned works, but I think 80% is finished.

In-Progress: SO MUCH. Seriously, just, so much, oh god. I’d really like to write another Stargate Atlantis fic (and I have 30% of one done), and something more for due South, too, and maybe a small Percy/Oliver thing again some time because they were my very first OTP and I kind of miss them, but mostly I have, like, 100+ half written things for h50. I really wish that number was an exaggeration. There’s no way they’ll all get finished, but maybe... a third? Mayhaps?

That One Truly Long H50 Fic that I was already talking about way back in October last year is also eternally “in progress”. The thing is that it has about 25k now, after a year, and I think it needs... at least four times that. Probably. So either I’ll have to stick with this fandom and my slow progress for another three years to have a shot at getting it finished, or I’ll need to find a way to up the speed a little. Maybe I could try working on it for NaNo this November? That would be pretty awesome, but honestly, part of why it’s moving this slowly is because NaNo-style fast and messy writing for this scares me a little, because I might end up writing a lot, decide it’s not what I wanted for it, and become too intimidated to ever edit and/or rewrite the entire thing. But idk, I probably just need to get over my own fears, because I really do want to write Longer Fic again. Short stuff is fun and feels really productive and that’s great, but I miss the actual slow burn and build-up that only 50k+ words can give you.

Coming Soon: Hopefully a lot? For h50, that is. I have no idea what’s getting posted next, because I’m never entirely sure what’s going to be finished next and something really random might come jumping in, but at the moment I’m trying to direct most of my energies at a slightly longer fic I’ve been working on for months (not The Long Fic, a different one), a fic labeled “9.01 memory loss fic”, another one temporarly entitled “Perfect Kauai beach house vacation”, and maybe an ace!Steve fic I’ve been working on, if I ever manage to uh, actually finish that, instead of rewriting three sentences during every round of editing and never actually adding anything to fill in the gaps it still has. There will also be more season 10 codas, in all likelihood.

Do You Accept Prompts: I’ve never done that before in the traditional way, but I’m thinking about it! I’d love to try (and it would be a breath of fresh air, in some ways!), but the main thing holding me back is that I have way too much on my plate with just my own ideas to work off of, and I don’t want to disappoint people. Maybe if I do drabble-ish prompt fills? It’s definitely been on my mind.

Upcoming Story You’re the Most Excited For: I’m excited for a lot of stuff, but honestly, the top spot right now probably goes to the ace!Steve fic. I’m not even sure it’s that good, necessarily, but it’s, idk, really cathartic, I suppose. Seriously self-indulgent in strange but very good ways. I really like writing it. (Second spot goes to the beach vacation fic, because I haven’t actually written that much for it, but it’s been my go-to easy happy place for the last few weeks.)

-

I’m tagging @love2hulksmash @thekristen999 @stephmcx @girlonastring @flowerfan2 and @pterawaters, which is six people because I can’t count, but I’m about to make it seven because I’m also tagging you, the person reading this (hi there!). Say I tagged you and tag me so I can read it! I know that kind of thing can feel awkward, but it won’t be, because I’m cheering you on. Go for it, if you want to do it. :D

[naptis-lucis-caelum]

A fluffy drabble where Fem!Reader, a happy go lucky yet dense childhood friend of Ignis and Ignis' crush which Gladio only knows about it, decided to cheer him up from a stress day of work as she gets him a day off and they had a day out in the city where there are some people who mistaken them as a couple. At the end, Ignis decides to confess to her. Thank you very much as I enjoy reading the drabbles you wrote 😁

y'all know I’m always down for some Iggy luvin~ and thank you dear nonnie, here’s your request!

“Iggy, you said 8:30…” you groaned to yourself, checking the time on your phone and shaking your head. You sighed, resting your chin on your hand and staring out the huge window next to you.

It was already 9 PM and there was no sign of him anywhere. He didn’t even bother sending you a quick text telling you that he’d be late. This was a reoccurring behaviour you’d noticed over the last couple week; Iggy would ask you to see him—coffee, lunch, dinner, breakfast—set up a time, and turn up late. The last time you agreed to go out, he kept you waiting for 2 hours.

You knew the implications of his job, however, and you couldn’t fault him for being so Six damn good at it. Growing up with the future King’s Royal Advisor (in turn causing you to grow up with the rest of the retinue) offered you a better understanding of the seriousness in being a part of the Crownsguard. It was a job one should never take lightly, but Iggy’s life revolved around his job. His job was his life.

“My dear, I’m so sorry I’m late!”

The familiar voice snapped you out of your deep thinking and you caught a glimpse of him settling down across you. With disheveled hair, crooked glasses, and exhausted features, you knew for a fact that he didn’t just wake up—he had just left work.

“On the bright side,” you sighed, “it didn’t take you 2 hours to get here.”

He shook his head, “Half an hour isn’t any better, but we had a very busy day at the Citadel, and with the treaty signing and Noct’s engagement to Lady Lunafreya, we’ve all been quite—”

“Chill, Iggy. I know.”

“But it’s no excuse,” he corrected himself. “I kept you waiting and I let my job take over my life once again.”

You could hear the disappointment in his voice, and you couldn’t help but release your own frustrations with him. He rested his right elbow on the table, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to hide his shame. Gently, you took his gloved hand away from his face and held it gently.

“Since you’re gonna be gone for a while, why don’t you take a day off and spend it with me?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

Just as he was about to refuse, the look on your face stopped him there and then. He shot you a soft smile and tightened his grip with your hand.

“I could never refuse you.”

Luckily for you, asking Noct to give Iggy a day off wasn’t a challenging task. If anything, Noct was more than happy to give him up for a day and even insisted you bring Gladio with (to which you profusely rejected, because you all knew the Prince needed to train his “scrawny” ass) so he could spend his day playing video games.

You stepped outside of your apartment building in a floral sundress, sandals, and a rattan bag to match. As you shoved your keys into your purse, you looked up and found the Royal Advisor leaning by the driver’s door, arms crossed in patience. If the Regalia’s shiny exterior and custom wheels weren’t a dead giveaway of who you were about to enter the car with, the plate number was a sure reason for your neighbours to throw you some shady looks.

“I could’ve driven us, you know,” you said as Iggy followed you to the passenger’s seat.

“Don’t be silly,” he replied as he held the door open for you. “Having you in the passenger’s seat is one of my greatest honours in life.”

You laughed at the flawless delivery of his statement before bending down and plopping on the seat. Iggy started to walk around to the driver’s seat, making sure to walk behind in the trunk as he took his phone out and began tapping away.

IgnisScientia: I want to tell her how I feel, Gladio.

CupNoodleDaddy: then just tell her?

IgnisScientia: How in the Astrals’ holy name am I supposed to do that? This is your area of expertise, not mine.

CupNoodleDaddy: you’re our tactician, aren’t ya? you’ll figure something out ;)

Iggy huffed in annoyance at Gladio’s teasing remark.

CupNoodleDaddy: but maybe you should start by putting your phone away and NEVER TOUCHING IT WHILE YOU’RE WITH HER. go get her ;)

He pulled up the chair for you and allowed you to settle in before heading over to his side of the table. The waiter handed both of you the menu, and as you read through what they had to offer, the waiter had something else in mind.

“We also have a Lover’s Brunch menu for this lovely couple,” he suggested, passing along a laminated menu. “It has two of everything, plus you’d be saving some money!”

The Insomnia heat was a killer, but it was nothing compared to the heat rushing through Iggy’s face at that moment. He shot you a petrified look as he watched you giggle at the waiter’s assumption. He wanted to open his mouth and correct him, but his voice seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

“That’s a lovely suggestion, but we’re just friends,” you spoke on his behalf.

He looked through the menu, and while he found their choices pleasing, the idea of sharing anything with you made his heart race. The menu also offered a cup of Ebony, and who was he to say no to that?

“Actually,” he cleared his throat. “I’m quite alright with their selection… i-if you are, of course.”

Did he just stutter?

You knitted your brows at his jumpy attitude but decided to ignore it. “Alright then,” you nodded. “Looks like we’re a couple throughout the duration of this brunch.”

This mistaken identity situation became a constant thing throughout the whole day—the lady serving you ice cream, the man at the clothes store, even the owner of the dog you pet. It was like the Astrals were screaming at Iggy to just grab his balls and spit it right out! Having kept his budding affection for you for more than half a decade wasn’t how he had planned on going about his relationship with you, but you never seemed to take the idea of dating him seriously. You only laughed it off whenever the possibility was suggested or implied, claiming that Iggy was “married to his job” or “his job would throw a fit if it found out he had me as a mistress!”

But then again, he couldn’t really blame you. His loyalty has, does, and will always remain to the crown. Nothing in Eos could tear him away from his responsibilities as the Royal Advisor.

Nothing but you.

His foot subconsciously stepped on the break as you approached your apartment building, and he realised he’d been driving on autopilot the whole trip home. As you continued speaking, he shook his head in an attempt to mask the argument he was just having with himself. Suddenly, you wrapped your fingers around his and gave it a tight squeeze.

“I had lots of fun today, Iggy. I hope you did too.”

A soft smile formed on his face, “A wonderful time as always, my dear.”

Shakily, he pulled your intertwined fingers up and gave your hand a soft kiss. He gauged your reaction, and based on the bright red that began to taint your cheeks, he was almost certain you returned his feelings. He brought your hands down but continued to hold on, his thumb grazing over your skin lightly.

“We depart for Altissia in a matter of weeks, and if something were to happen…”

You shook your head, “Don’t say that, Iggy.”

“I would never forgive myself if I never tell you.”

“Tell me… tell me what?” you asked, inhaling sharply.

After a few seconds of silence, your hand was empty of Iggy’s but his lips were now pressed against yours. A force of shock overtook your body for half a second, but you immediately melted into his strong arms. His hands snaked up to the sides of your face, cupping it lovingly while he attempted to remember everything about this perfect moment—your taste, your scent, how fast his heart was beating—everything.

He finally pulled away and immediately sunk back into his seat, facing the windshield with his hands on the wheel. You reached out to touch his shoulder, but pulled back at the last second.

“Iggy, how—” you swallowed hard, “how long?”

He sighed, “You are my first, and still the only person I hold these affections for.”

“Affections?” you repeated after him. “What kind of affections, Iggy?” you asked with a sly grin. You knew that you were making him slightly uncomfortable by confronting him about his feelings for you, and while it was all for good fun, you needed to hear it.

“You already know,” he answered simply.

You shook your head, “Affections can mean a lot of things. I love Gladio because he’s always there to protect us. I love Noct because he has such a kind heart. I love Prompto because he’s such a cute—”

“I love you.”

You blinked, “You love me?”

“Yes, I love you,” he rolled his eyes at that mischievous look on your face. “I’ve loved you ever since I became aware that I held the emotional capacity to do so. I loved you every time you opened the door fresh out of bed, I loved you every time you had your heart broken, I loved you every time you rested your head on my shoulder.”

“Iggy—”“And I love you now—at this very second—more than ever. My love grows for you each passing day, and it was foolish of me to keep it under wraps after all these years.”

“Iggy,” you called out. “I… I love you too.”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips before he crashed down upon you once again. “About damn time,” he murmured in between kisses, making you giggle. 

Readjusting his crooked glasses, you asked, “So… wanna come up for coffee?”

“Will you share your Ebony?” he responded with a raised eyebrow.

You laughed, “You’re my boyfriend now, Iggy. Of course I’d share my Ebony with you.”

Boyfriend. He could get used to that.

[h-sunnywet-d]

Chat got your tongue?

MariChat May 2018

Read it on Ao3

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Day 1: “You’re injured. Please stay the night. Please.”

All season have advantages and disadvantages. Summer, for example is good because of the lack of responsibilities – except, if you are a hero of Paris, lives above a bakery owned by your beloved parents, have serious dreams working in the fashion industry and to top if it: you have a lovely flower garden on your balcony.

The day started quite peacefully for Marinette. She helped out her Papa down the bakery’s kitchen; playfully bantering as ever up until her Maman appeared and scolded them about the more amount of flour in their hair than it have in the dough in front of them. To save the day and their running business Sabine separated the sheepishly grinning duo, ordering her daughter out for counter duties while she continued the preparation with Tom.

After the lunch rush her mother let Marinette upstairs to work on her portfolio she wanted to put together. The next will be their last year before university and she needed to collect together the absolute greatest of her designs if she wanted to continue her studies in fashion. While her kwami’s cheerfulness always helped, she was in the middle of a nervous breakdown when the screaming of Parisians was heard through the open windows of her room. Kwami and Choosen looked at each other, and a transformation later she was out to save the city once again.

It was after sunset when she was able to return to her room. After dropping the transformation, Tikki had a beeline for the box of cookies, while Marinette collapsed in her chair. With a happy but tired smile on her face she watched for a few minutes her little red friend munching on a chocolate chip cookie, before her gaze returned to the mess on her desk. With a sigh of defeat she accepted the fact that she won’t be able to work on it and instead she decided to have a nice bubble bath and a well-needed full night sleep. Tomorrow she will be more productive for sure.

Marinette stood up and stretched, patted Tikki on her head as she passed by and was ready to descend from her room when her gaze fell on the spraying bottle. She stopped and stared at it for a few seconds. Considering her options and the order of tasks she want to do, she knew she can’t skip watering her flowers and also she will be too tired after the bath to do it. So, no matter how exhausted she was, she filled the bottle with water and climbed up to the balcony to her precious flowers.

She was halfway through the watering, quietly humming Jagged Stone’s latest hit when the certain cat-themed hero of Paris landed quietly behind her on the makeshift table. After almost five years of running around the rooftops of the city he gathered some impressive skills. The one he is most proud of is the way he moves around worthy his name sake. Landing softly in a quite unstable object without making any sound draw a smug smile on Chat Noir’s face before he crouched down and purred in low voice.

“Bonsoir, Purrincesse~”

Marinette on the other hand wasn’t prepared any sudden, unexpected noises; especially not after a stressful day as the day were. Without a second thought she spun around her heels and throw her spraying bottle in the direction of the noise.

Now, if you ask Chat Noir what is his second best skill he improved in his days of being a superhero, he’d definitely said it’s his incredibly fast reflexes. The very same reflexes what saved him and his Lady uncountable occasions during akuma attacks; helped him win a bunch of video games; and apparently can help him avoid getting hit in the middle of his face from unreasonably flying watering bottles.

He had no any time to think about his moves. The moment he saw Marinette spinning around and raising her hands in a throwing movement, he did his best to avoid the unpleasant collision. His legs moved almost unintentionally and he wanted to jump up and back – but he forgot to take into account one little detail:

The unstable, unfixed makeshift table under him.

While he successfully avoided being hit in the face he could not same himself from inelegantly flatting on the floor with a surprised yell and an itching pain in his backside.

“Sweet bread Chat Noir, all you all right?! Did you get hurt?” Marinette rushed around the overturned table and kneeled beside the fallen hero.

“Beside my rear side and my self-esteem?” asked Chat with a hand on his forehead.

“Even akumas can’t hurt your enormous ego, so I suppose you will survive this as well.” Marinette let out a relieved sigh. If her partner could joke around, he’ll be fine.

“I’m not sure about it Princess.” Chat opened one of his eyes to peak out to the girl. “I think it’s worse than it seems. I can’t feel my tail!”

Marinette’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind her bangs.

“You are being ridiculous. It’s only a belt, not a real tail.”

“It’s a magical belt-tail, for you to know, and it hurts very much.”

Chat put his other fist closed on his chest and made a show of biting in his lower lip as if he’s in unimaginable pain. Marinette just shook her head on his dramatics.

“Come on, Chat Noir. You are a superhero. I saw you fighting with akumas and taking massive hits without a blink in his eyes.”

“Well,” started Chat slowly. “The akumas usually doesn’t hurt my ego and reputation as well.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and let out a tired sigh.

“And what am I supposed to say now?” she asked and grabbed his hand from his chest and shoved him her best imitation of the hero’s famous kitten eyes. “’Oh great and amazing Chat Noir, you’re injured. Please stay the night! Please!’”

Chat’s eyes widened and his eyes slightly opened as he stared up at her.

For a short moment he played around in his head with the opportunity. His unreasonably huge bedroom in the painfully empty mansion did not hold anything for him to go back before it’s necessary. And the thought of staying with Marinette promised far more joy and warm than he thought before.

The two of them grew closer to each other in the last year and developed a close friendly relationship both in- and outside of his mask. Since Alya and Nino seriously dated the four of them spent more and more time together. As the more they spent in each other’s company the more of the tension disappeared, and nowadays the two of them had programs on their own, even without the couple in love.

Chat Noir also got closer to the young woman. They met once in a while during akuma attacks or he stopped by her balcony during his patrols, like he did this day as well.

But never before thought about the possibility to spend more time with her than the short friendly chat had they used to have.

“You don’t know how much I’d like to.” The whispered words escaped from his mouth before he could stop them.

His eyes grew even bigger in panic when he realized what he said. He abruptly stood and stepped away from the startled girl.

“Oh, hey, look at the time!” Chat nervously chuckled as he backed to the railing behind him. “I really should go now and I bet you want your beauty rest as well, not that you need it at all, just...” he trailed off and waved his hands around.

Marinette looked at him quizzically before the meaning of the meaning of his whispered words clicked in.

“Chat?”

The hero stopped his fanatic movements and looked at her like a scared kitten. “Yes, Marinette?”

“Would you like to stay for a while?

“Stay for a... You’d want me to stay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Still kneeling on the floor she smiled up at him warmly. “I’m not so tired at all and it would be awesome to have some company for a round or two of Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

For a few seconds Chat Noir did not say anything and it made Marinette anxious. Maybe it was a mistake to offer. She opened her mouth to apologise when Chat’s face lit up in a glad smile.

“That’d be really cool.” he said and his body visibly relaxed.

Marinette let out a relieved sigh and stood up to lead him to her trapdoor.

“This way then, M. Superhero.”

Chat let out a silent chuckle. “After you, Mlle. Fair Maiden.”

Marinette just rolled her eyes but led him to her room none-the-less. She will have plenty of time ask him about his statement any other night. This night will be about laughter and fun only.

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Hello there!

I hope you enjoyed this little story I wrote for MariChat May 2018. All the drabbles took over one long story of Marinette and Chat Noir IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.

I won’t promise I’ll be able to post every day in time, but I’ll finish every single drabble eventually :)

English is not my native language, I'm a mere human and can make mistakes. I warmly welcome any help I can get. Feel free to leave a comment! ^^,

[luriashrine]

kabsks you’re gonna hate me bUT I KINDA WANNA KNOW THE ANSWERS TO ALL QUESTIONS FOR CELIA (and maybe Fai if u want!) except maybe number 5 bc i dunno if it fits, you decide!! INFO DUMP ME!!!!

NOW HOW CAN I HATE YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO INFO DUMP AS MUCH AS I COULD?!  Be prepared for some weird errors, I’m heading back out and I tried to finish this in the little time I have at the moment ;0; 

1. What would completely break your character.

Here’s the sad thing, Celia is already broken. For a large part of her childhood to adolescent to late teenage years, she had to endure so much shit. It doesn’t help one bit that The Lich makes damn sure to live through her trauma each and every day during her training. For three long years, she had to witness her family dying over and over again just so that she can learn to desensitize herself (it’s best to think of her training in The Box as though she was trapped in a time loop with different outcomes depending on her choices or what The Lich wants to throw at her).

Aside from total failure in completing her end of the contract, nothing can break Celia but even that is debatable since some of her actions throughout ATEW suggests otherwise (there are times in the story where Celia tries to goad Adrian into killing her in order to stop but he seriously couldn’t in the beginning).

2. What was the best thing in your character’s life?

Her family, more importantly, Marcel and Remei. But they’re gone now and for a long while she had nothing she considered important. Until she finally opens up to Fai and later on Nessie. Seeing Phoebe’s kingdom come crumbling down would be another great thing in her life…

3. What was the worst thing in your character’s life?

Fai and Celia did not get off on the right foot. At first Fai thought that protecting a sociopathic brat like Celia was the worst thing ever, especially since she’s someone who is fine with getting her hands dirty which consequently means that she always jumps headfirst into danger(hRM DOESN’T THAT SOUND FAMILIAR YOU BUTT ADJNAKS seriously though, he does the same at times but to him when Celia did it was annoying). Eventually, through time they do bond and now the worst thing in Fai’s life is how much he’s in love with her despite knowing what will happen once she completes her contract.

Still… Celia’s recklessness and overconfidence in herself scare him nowadays…

4. What seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character.

The first time she ever had paella after a kindly couple (Kyrie and Santiago) took her in for a couple of weeks… it’s extremely insignificant but the impact of the event meant so much to her and there are times where she could still taste the fluffy, sunny-colored rice and the multitude of spices after spending a couple of years in shitty orphanages eating moldy bread (bread that she would have to steal from other children due to food rations), watery soup and this bland grey mush that had the proper nutrients in it but very little substance to it. Kyrie had prepared that dish out on a whim one day, after he had fed her so many other wonderful dishes ever since he took her in but all of the flavoring in the paella stuck out the most to her. Much to her embarrassment, she cried after eating the dish. She wasn’t crying just because she was having good food but because for the first time in a long time she was eating dinner with a family once more and that revelation struck Celia so hard she was overwhelmed with emotion.  

I wrote a drabble but for Fai, Celia showing Fai that sweet fairy poo. Her laugh was the most magical thing on the planet. SHE ALSO HAS THE CUTEST DIMPLES WHEN SHE LEGIT SMILES AND THAT DESTROYS HIM YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!!

5. I’M SORRY, I REALLY TRIED BUT I CAN’T ANSWER!! CELIA’S JOB IS TO KILL AND SHE DOESN’T REALLY ENJOY KILLING ALL THAT MUCH, SURE SHE’S GROWN DEATTACHED AND HAS NO PROBLEM WITH IT BUT… YEAH!

6. what is your character reluctant to tell people.

Celia has a lot to hide which is understandable given her circumstances meanwhile Fai is too reluctant with telling anyone else that he’s in love with Celia this is mostly because Shadows aren’t really supposed to have any feelings and falling in love with a human is considered… strange to say the least.

7. How does your character feel about sex?

I’LL TRY TO BE A MATURE ADULT WITH TALKING ABOUT THIS BUT IDK I STILL FEEL WEIRD TALKING NSFW WITH MY OCS, not uncomfortable just jadksbldns. But anyway!!! 

Celia and her very unabashed view, as well as the immense pleasure she takes in it, ties into a lot of things such as her self-worth as well as her nasty habit of smothering herself in more risky behaviors whenever she’s going through a mania episode since sex is just one of many self-destructive behaviors. On top of all those things, for a short time she had a slight fear of emotional attachment before meeting with Fai, having sex with no strings attached was ideal for Celia. This doesn’t mean that she’s thirsty.txt 24/7 just because she’s shameless and has sexual confidence, sex is not always on her mind… but she’s not one to say no to whoever offers to have sex with her either.

Fai on the other hand… he is very much a thot when it comes to his lovers. SO UH!!! 

8. how many friends does your character have?

WEEPS!!!! I’ve said time and time again that Celia is a true neutral, she has a grey moral outlook with little to no regard for a lot of things since as rules and the like… however, so many people will regard her as cruel or even evil due to her many actions in both a meta sense and in the story sense as well. So, yeah… she doesn’t really have many friends because of this aspect of her and has tons of enemies. After she opens up to Fai she later does befriend Nessie and makes an attempt to at the very least try to bond with her resistance members since they are doing all of the heavy hard work and she appreciates their loyalty to her.

9. how many friends does your character want?

This is the question that upsets me the most. It’s a bit of a mixed bag here since there is a large part of Celia that years for companionship but because of all of the events she had to go through during ATEW (most of which she almost died in) she has a natural distrust of everyone and her paranoia convinces Celia that everyone is out to get her. She honest to god hates being alone with her thoughts since she has to relive her trauma. She prefers the company of others not only to satisfy her needs for social interaction and attention too but to distract from her mind. 

10. What would your character make a scene in public about?

She doesn’t really like making scenes in public, Celia is someone who works in from the shadows of the slums first and foremost due to the many people who are out to get her whether they be human, spirits she’s upset or the gods there is a price for her head for all of the crime she’s committed. As such, she doesn’t really like making any scenes of any sorts but there is an extremely rare expectation to that face and that expectation is that if she’s feeling highly emotionally. Once again, this plays into her mania episodes of her manic depression and on top of that, years of just bottling away her trauma, anger and a plethora of many other emotions she tries to shut down through dissociation. After having an emotional breakdown she will feel pretty shitty with some sense of catharsis.

11. For what would your character give their life?

If losing her life has some value in completing whatever goals she has, then she would gladly give up her life for that sake with no hesitance. Later on, where Celia actually develops and makes a legit human connection with other people she would find that she has no problem with giving up her life for them if it’s worth it in the end. Fai is well aware of both facts and he always cries silently to himself.

Fai risks his life mostly for glory and being an actual adrenaline junkie. Nothing noble behind his actions.

12. what are your character’s major flaws.

I’ve already talked about it with Celia but her major, major flaw would have to be her envy and how much it blinds her, the fact that she has little empathy, is prideful/arrogant, suffers from a superiority/inferiority complex etc. etc.

I’d like to talk about Fai though! He’s apparent frivolous nature is a huge, huge flaw of his as he sometimes underestimates his opponents in battle and constantly undermines himself as well because he doesn’t really use all of his powers when fighting. He’s too carefree/playful and that’s his greatest trait about him but also his worst. I don’t really need to go too much in depth about how much his recklessness gets him in trouble or all of the weird mess he would get himself into lol… the dragon fighting is suffice enough. 

13. what does your character pretend or try to care about?

Omg… I can’t help but think of this with Celia whenever someone finds out about her lies, she would act so deadpan once she’s caught in the act because chances are you already have a bullet through your head lol!!!! Her paranoia and overall perfectionist attitude won’t allow for her to let a silly mistake like that live for long.

Fai tries to pretend that he cares about The Lich and to his credit he almost follows their orders. Make what you will out of that.

14. how does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project.

Celia has well over 3439203023 different personas since she’s very meticulous in how she wants to present herself to others in order to seem all the more appealing to them. As we all know, her acting is a crock of shit!! I wouldn’t go as far as to say that the real Celia is a terrible person and leave it at that, it takes away so much of her character because there’s so much more to her than her terrible life choices and actions.  

With Fai, aside from his poker face that he wears when on duty, what you see is what you get because of how much of a shit he doesn’t give when it comes to presentation.

15. what is your character afraid of?

Blood. Ironic, isn’t it? For all of the lives that Celia takes and all of the blood she’s shed for the sake of her goal, just a mere glance at it and she relives through the night of her trauma all over again. She hates the sight, the smell and overall feel of it hence why she prefers to use long ranged weapons combined with her magic in order to not see blood spill from her victims. I think I’ve mentioned this before but Celia hates bleeding out not just because of her fear towards blood but because of how shitty her body is, it tends to take a while for a wound to clot and close up so she can bleed for hours on end with no signs of stopping (I’m not even touching on the fact how she suffers from minor internal bleeding either hence the high number of bruises she sometimes sports). I suppose getting caught by the military or Phoebe’s powers would be legitimate fears as well.

[sonnets-and-snowdrops]

Saiyuki Inktober 2017, Day 11 - “Smoke,” Version II: Expanded/Alternate Version

Fandom: Saiyuki Pairing: 10K Rating: T Word Count: Approx. 1500 seriously I’m not even gonna pretend that most of these are drabbles anymore I give up Author’s Note:  First off - reading the author’s note in this post will probably clarify a few things. In addition to that, I’d also like to add that these fics don’t really take place in the same timeline. Or, rather - I guess they’re both set in the Gaiden-verse, but beyond that, they’re not really related at all. Pretty much, I just couldn’t make up my mind about what I wanted to do with this prompt - I had the general idea figured out, but couldn’t come to a conclusion I liked regarding the specifics - so, I wrote two completely separate fics. I mean, I did re-use a few turns of phrase (which you’ll notice if you read both, and frankly, I won’t apologize for that, because these are two versions of the same story anyway) but other than that, they’re completely separate, as far as I’m concerned. You’ll see what I mean if you read both, I think. Also, full disclosure - I’m not a smoker, so, despite my best efforts, I might get a few sensory details wrong here. But I mean the cigarettes are really just vehicles for inevitable sexytimes anyway so really I’m not sure it matters that much hehehe Also also, pretty sure Tenpou is my new all-around Saiyuki fave.  I mean, he’s not wrong. He really is kind of a mess. … *whispers* I like angst, you guys. …anyway, enjoy! :D 

The second they burst out of the stuffy, stifling conference room, Kenren sticks his arms high in the air, stretching tall, and lets out a great, grateful sigh. “Man,” he says, dropping his arms down to his sides and leaning, hard and heavy, against the wall. “I thought that was never gonna end.”

“Too true,” Tenpou agrees, rolling his neck one way, and then the other, releasing tiny, tension-bred clicks and cracks as he eases his stiff muscles. “I fully understand that the redistribution of resources bears discussing - but for fuck’s sake, after three hours, you’d think we’d have made more progress - ”

“All thanks to the most high and worthy Li Touten-sama, of course - ”

“Too true again,” Tenpou says darkly. “He should know better than to interfere with matters like this.” He scowls, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat. “It has nothing to do with him. He should learn his place.”

“I figure he’s still falling back on his family’s influence, right?”

“Which,” Tenpou says, “isn’t what it once was. He knows that. And so,” he adds, his voice tight and clipped, “do we.”

“Eh.” Kenren shrugs, and fishes around inside his uniform, searching for his smokes. When he finds them, he pops open the box, clamps one cigarette between his teeth, and draws it out, long and slow. He lights it, and he breathes in, and he tilts his head back and closes his eyes, savoring taste of the tobacco on his tongue. “I don’t feel like thinkin’ about that guy any more than I have to,” he says after he exhales. “Ain’t worth it.”

“Mm,” is all Tenpou says to that.

Kenren shoots a sideways glance at his friend. Tenpou still has his hands crammed in his pockets, and, weirdly, he’s suddenly gone all fidgety. He’s looking down, and even though his face is almost completely hidden by that unkempt hair of his, Kenren can see the way his jaw is working, clenching hard. His glasses have begun to slip down his nose, but he makes no effort whatsoever to push them back into place.

“Yo,” Kenren says, speaking softly, and treading lightly. He’s seen this before; he’s well aware that Tenpou is treading the dangerous, delicate line between repressing his frustration and snapping into a full-on, full-blown rage. “What’s up?”

Tenpou lets out a snarl of exasperation. “I can’t find my cigarettes.”

“Oh,” Kenren says. He knows what that’s like. Wanting a cigarette and not being able to have one can give a guy a case of blue balls that’s worse than actual blue balls, as far as he’s concerned. “Did you - uh - maybe leave ’em in your other coat or something?”

At that, Tenpou whips his head sideways and pins Kenren with a cruel, unyielding stare. “I don’t know, Kenren,” he snaps. “If I knew where my cigarettes were, I wouldn’t be looking for them, now, would I?”

That shuts Kenren up pretty quick; it’s just not worth it, the way he sees it, to engage with Tenpou when he’s in one of these moods. At best, he’ll find himself on the receiving end of brutal, unfiltered insults, and at worst, he’ll end up getting his head sliced clean off his shoulders by the greatest katana master this side of Heaven.

Somehow, he doesn’t find either option particularly appealing.

And so, for a hot second, the two stand together in silence. Kenren, unwilling to let a good cigarette go to waste, smokes; Tenpou, unwilling to abandon his desperate quest, quietly rams his hands into his pants pockets. When that proves fruitless - or, Kenren amends, smoke-less - he withdraws his hands, crosses his arms, expels a long, hopeless sigh - one that strikes Kenren as just a little over-dramatic - and slumps against the wall, ostensibly defeated.

“One fucking cigarette,” Tenpou mutters. “Is that really too much to ask?”

“Y'know,” Kenren says, “if you didn’t hate Hi-Lites so much, I’d offer to let you bum one of mine.”

Tenpou freezes. His eyes flare, bright and hungry, at Kenren’s words. “You mean it?”

“Yeah. Of course I mean it, man. I just - ”

“Give me one.”

“You sure?” Kenren raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to let you have one - I just thought - ”

“I said, give me a cigarette, Kenren.”

“Okay, okay - if you’re sure - ”

“Don’t,” Tenpou hisses, his voice cold and deadly serious, “make me make that an order.”

Kenren can’t quite help himself; he flashes Tenpou a cheeky smile and, smooth and sly as he can, says, “Yes, sir.”

Before Tenpou, whose lower eyelids have started to twitch thanks to an unfortunate combination of anger and addiction and astigmatism, can respond, Kenren reaches into his jacket and busts out his smokes again. “Here,” he says, making damn sure to keep his tone gentle and earnest; the Field Marshal, he figures, has endured enough torture for one day. “You gotta light, or…?”

“Do you know what? I don’t think I do.” Tenpou’s eyes fall closed, and he laughs weakly.  "I’m a mess, Kenren,“ he sighs, and Kenren finds himself oddly struck by the raw honesty that rings in Tenpou’s words. His eyes drift open again, and this time, when they lock onto Kenren’s, they’re surprisingly soft - they’ve turned a little bit sorry, a little bit sympathetic. And, Kenren sees, a little bit sad, too.

“Hey,” Kenren says. He pulls one cigarette out from his pack and sidling sideways along the wall, closing the distance between himself and Tenpou. “S'okay, man.” He sticks out his hand, offering Tenpou the cigarette.

Tenpou, for his part, only watches. His soft, sorry, sympathetic, sad eyes flicker back and forth behind his glasses, tracing Kenren’s actions with their customary precision, but he makes no move to take the cigarette. He looks kinda dazed, Kenren thinks - it’s as if the trials of the afternoon combined with the force of his recent realization have rendered him immobile, or turned him to some kind of strange, still-breathing stone.

That hits Kenren pretty hard, actually.

All of a sudden, it’s easy for him to see why a guy like Tenpou is always so willing to risk his own ass on the battlefield.

Kenren takes a quick glance left, and then right. “Hey,” he says again, infusing his gravelly, soldier’s voice with as much warmth as he can. “Don’t worry, okay?” And he smiles, hoping that a touch of warmth might show up in his gravelly, soldier’s face, too.

He tries his best to be matter-of-fact about this next part - and it goes pretty well, all things considered. His hand doesn’t shake when he lets it float gently up towards Tenpou’s face. There’s no quintessentially romantic tremble in his fingers when he, deft and quick, coaxes Tenpou’s mouth open with a sweep of his calloused thumb, and there’s no jittery moment of hesitation or uncertainty - not from either of them - when he lays the cigarette between Tenpou’s parted lips. It doesn’t feel awkward when he lights the cigarette for Tenpou, or when he feels Tenpou’s cool, controlled inhale ghost past his fingers, or when he senses the greedy, muscular shifting of Tenpou’s tongue as it tastes the torrid smoke. He even fancies he can feel the quiet power of Tenpou’s lungs, strong and hearty thanks to his many years spent shouting commands over the clamor of battle, when he sends his first long, lovesome stream of smoke drifting fast upwards. It whirls between Kenren’s fingers and makes hot, ashy spirals in the stagnant afternoon air.

Tenpou smokes the whole cigarette like that - with Kenren’s palm pressed just so against his chin, and Kenren’s fingers lingering just so before his lips. Kenren’s own cigarette smolders away, unsmoked and unheeded, in his mouth; somehow, Kenren finds, he doesn’t really care.

“So,” Kenren says, urging Tenpou’s mouth softly open with his thumb again and slowly slipping the butt of the cigarette out from between his lips, “I guess Hi-Lites aren’t as gods-awful as you remembered, huh?”

Tenpou, weary eyes dead closed again, shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No. They’re not.” A brief moment passes, and then Tenpou’s lips quirk into a tiny smile. “And - do you know what, Kenren?”

“Eh?” Kenren cocks his head sideways, intrigued. “What?”

“I believe,” Tenpou says, “it’s for the best that I learned as much.”

“How d'you mean? You got plans to forget your own smokes on a regular basis or something?”

“Hardly.” Tenpou opens his eyes, and, with an effort, pushes himself away from the wall. “I’ll see you in an hour for company drills, General,” he says, turning his back and striding down the corridor, away from Kenren. “Thank you for the cigarette.”

“Yo,” Kenren calls. “Yo, Tenpou - you didn’t answer my question.”

As he walks, Tenpou’s shoulders raise and lower in an easy shrug. “It’s simple,” he says, tossing the words lightly behind him. “I intent to kiss you one day, Kenren. I would hate it very much if I couldn’t tolerate the way you taste.”

[roseymoseyberry]

Knocked Out (11/12)

As you can probably guess, turns out the last chapter will be last two chapters. Because of course it did since I said there was one last chapter.

I could have shoved it all into one chapter, but I felt this was better used as a short standalone chapter. Plus I know that there's some lovelies (more on ao3 but maybe some of y’all!) haven't actually read barbarian AUs before, and while I'm beyond honored to be the first and possibly only for you, this fic was written based on the assumption that the readers knew the matenapping trope therein and how I reversed it here, haha. So hopefully this is helpful to those of you who aren't familiar with the tropes inherent to barbarian AUs.

The actual last chapter will be posted either tomorrow or Friday. So I hope you enjoy this little snippet and god lord do I hope you enjoy the last chapter when I post it, hahaaaah.

ALSO! On the off chance you missed it, I wrote a little drabble in this AU which can be found over yonder.

Title: Knocked Out

Series: Transformers: Prime with the constructicons shoved right in there, and just a sprinkle of ideas pulled from tfidw

Pairing/Characters: Breakdown/Knockout, joined by Bulkhead and the Constructicons

Warnings: Robot injuries (nothing super gory), sexual jokes, language barriers, and fluff. Oh the fluff. Also slow burn I guess depending on your definition of slow haha.

Fic Summary:

And so there Breakdown found himself, with an injured barbarian in his arms who turned those dazzling crimson optics towards him, and for a split second Breakdown felt as if it was his knees that were injured because boy did they feel weak.

Barbarian AU where the citymech unwittingly does the kidnapping.

Chapter Summary:

“First time shopping for clothes, huh?”

|Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7|Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Chapter 11|

“First time shopping for clothes, huh?”

Breakdown’s optics snapped up to find a red minibot wearing a blue wrap standing on the booth’s table, servo wrapped around one of the corner beams to lean towards Breakdown as the little mech grinned slyly at him. The minibot’s accent was one that Breakdown couldn’t place, not sounding like any he had heard in the cities he had been to. Before he even had a chance to reply, a nearly identical helm popped up. In fact, the only difference was that the second minibot had a blue paintjob.

“Ooh, a first timer?” The second minibot clambered onto the table as well, his red wrap not slowing him down at all. Even on the stand, the two of them didn’t reach Breakdown’s optics, but that didn’t seem to intimidate them at all.

“He was looking at the skirts like they were gonna sit up and bite him,” Red said to Blue’s delight.

Breakdown could hardly disagree, truth be told. Not that he had any time to get a word in edgewise before Blue leaned in, saying, “Aww, don’t be afraid, big guy! We can help you find something stylish and in your size!”

“Uh.” Breakdown blinked as he tried to gather his thoughts. Once Knockout had been put into stasis, Ratchet had shooed him out of the room, insisting he find something to do with himself for the next couple of hours and leave the healing to him. Needing something to occupy his processor with, Breakdown had decided to see if he couldn’t find a replacement for the dingy towel that Knockout had had wrapped around his waist.

After nearly an hour wandering the various street markets, Breakdown had finally spotted the stall. The tables were covered in neatly folded clothes of all sorts of colors and textures, and beams created overhead rows where yet more fabric was hung to billow with the breeze. The thin mech that Breakdown had assumed was running the booth on his own had been talking with another customer, so Breakdown thought he’d have a chance to just browse, see if he couldn’t glean some sort of knowledge by just looking at the fabric.

But no. It was all very pretty, but that was as far as Breakdown could figure. There seemed to be categories for different types of garments and they had signs stating what they were, but the words were meaningless to Breakdown. He didn’t even have the greatest optic for color, so Breakdown couldn’t even just start there. Would Knockout want something red? But what if it was the wrong shade? Grey? Black? Gold?

Now, faced with two minibots staring at him with nearly predatory grins, Breakdown felt both lost and concerned.

Maybe buying a gift had been a terrible idea.

“It’s, uh, it’s not for me,” Breakdown finally managed.

Twin optics widened with interest.

“Ooh, looking to court a barbarian, huh?”

“Strong mech like you shouldn’t have problems with the grabbing, but I could see how you might want help on the softer side of things,” Blue said as he considered Breakdown seriously.

“No point in catch and carry if you can’t keep ‘em with your personality,” Red agreed, acting deadly serious even as his twin snorted.

Breakdown was positive he was being made fun of, and that irritation only added to the burning embarrassment that came with realizing what they meant.

“I’m not matenapping anybody!” Breakdown argued, his engine rumbling in warning. “And I don’t appreciate you suggesting I would!”

Blue looked at Red who shrugged.

“An idiot and boring.”

“No sense of romance.”

Breakdown’s engine growled properly this time. However, there was no chance to follow through on any arguments when a monotone voice interrupted sternly, “Rumble, Frenzy: desist.”

“But boss!”

“We’re just teasing!”

If the mech was moved, Breakdown wouldn’t have known since the shopkeeper had a full face visor. Up close he looked even thinner. Most of his frame was covered in a loose tunic, but his arms were bare, thin and more blades than anything, and his digits were impossibly slim as they unfurled to wave the two minibots off. And, surprisingly, the twins scrambled off the table, though they did grumble under their ex-vents. Soon after, a pair of flying mechanimals swooped towards them, but judging from the giggles that brought, they seemed to know the creatures.

“Apologies,” the shopkeeper said, bringing Breakdown’s attention back to his featureless visor. “Seeking a gift?”

“Yeah,” Breakdown replied, at once finding himself trapped again in the awkwardness of not knowing what he was doing. If the shopkeeper noticed his discomfort though, he didn’t comment on it, just waited patiently. “Crew and I picked up a mech on our way here and he’s just been wearing my drying towel for a few days now, so I figured I should pick him up some actual clothes, you know?”

With a small nod, the mech further asked, “A barbarian?”

“Yeah. I mean, who else would wear clothes?”

“Two small religious sects,” the mech answered easily, “and some citymecha seeking alternative fashion choices.”

“Oh.” Breakdown grimaced, worrying he had somehow offended. “Sorry, you one of those then or--”

“No.”

“Uh, then you’re a bar--”

“No.” Breakdown would have sworn the slightest shifting of light in the mech’s visor was humor.

“Soundwave’s a translator!” one of the minibots interrupted, popping his helm up above the table’s edge with one of the flyers perched on top. “He’s got a crazy big processor for language and has pretty much all of them rattling around in there now.”

And, of course, the second minibot wasn’t far behind with his own flyer, pride clear as day on his face as he added, “He’s been to all the cities and met every tribe we’ve ever heard of and more! So he’s pretty much the smartest and coolest mech you’ll ever meet.”

“We’re barbarians though.”

“Cassette tribe, and don’t forget it!”

“Enough.”

The twins snapped their mouths shut petulantly.

Breakdown stared at the odd little group of mecha before glancing around at the stall. “So then this is, what, something you do to fill the time between jobs?”

There was that flicker again as Soundwave nodded.

So. A citymech with barbarian connections who was a contract worker.

Breakdown felt his spark finally ease as he said, “Then it sounds like you’re just the mech I need to help me try to figure out what the frag to buy.”

With an easy nod, Soundwave asked, “Do you know his style preference?”

“No. I mean, he wears my towel wrapped between his legs and then around his hips, but that might just be because that’s all I had. His clothes had already been taken from him before we met him and his tribe.”

“Tribe name?”

Breakdown had to take a moment to think on that before answering, “Is Velocitron a tribe?”

Identical pairs of optics blew out wide.

“A Velocitron?!” the twins squealed in unison.

“Is he beautiful? They’re supposed to be real bright and pretty!”

“And fast! How did you manage to catch him?”

“Yeah! They’re about the toughest mecha you could try to court, and super rare nowadays!”

“Is he in the city with you? Can we meet him?!”

“We’ve never met an actual Velocitron before!”

“You’re so slagging lucky!”

With another wave of Soundwave’s servo, Frenzy and Rumble quieted, though they practically vibrated with energy now. The interruption couldn’t have come at a better time since Breakdown was pretty sure he had somehow managed to, yet again, step his pede into something he did not understand.

But Airachnid had said something vaguely similar. She seemed so focused on the fact that Knockout was a Velocitron--

With a quick motion, Soundwave laid out a neatly folded bundle of fabric.

“This style and fabric preferred by Velocitron tribe,” Soundwave explained simply. “Short so it does not impede running and fabric type allows airflow to assist in faster frame cooling.”

Breakdown gingerly reached out to touch the bundle. The texture was smooth and thin compared with some of the other fabrics around the booth, and when Breakdown unfurled it he found that unlike the tunic that Soundwave wore or some of the other options on the table, it was actually similar in dimension and simplicity to Breakdown’s towel. Longer in length and narrower in width, but Breakdown could only assume that it was meant to be worn similarly to how Knockout had worn the towel.

It was nice. Beautiful even in a weird way. Certainly it would be a better fit for Knockout. Breakdown couldn’t help imagining how much nicer it would look, laying smoothly across the curves of Knockout’s hips and thighs instead of adding bulk like that old towel. Primus, he hoped that Knockout would like it, might even smile when it was handed to him like he had when he first put on that towel--

“Black only color currently available,” Soundwave continued, pulling Breakdown from his thoughts. “More colors and fabrics can be sought if desired in the future.”

“Nah, no worries,” Breakdown said, the grin he hadn’t realized had bloomed on his face turning sheepish as he waved off the offer. “Truthfully this just makes it easier for me since I wasn’t sure what color to get. So this will be perfect. How much is it?”

“I mean, that’s a pretty rare item,” one twin started, his predatory grin mirrored on his twin’s face. However, neither of them got in another word as Soundwave shook his helm.

“A gift,” Soundwave stated, “for your mate.”

Breakdown’s spark whirled madly.

“Oh, no, he’s not—it’s not like that!” he insisted, flustered as he shook his helm.

The twins rolled their optics while Soundwave’s helm tilted with curiosity.

“He is a barbarian you separated from his tribe and brought with your own, correct?”

“But I didn’t kidnap him!” Breakdown argued, at once indignant again at the accusation. After seeing how Airachnid and her tribe treated Knockout, Breakdown would never let anyone do that to the barbarian, let alone do so himself. “I didn’t force him to come here with me or anything! He could leave if he wanted--”

“Idiot,” the twins echoed, their tone bored. Breakdown’s frown deepened as he glowered at them.

“Not accusing matenapping,” Soundwave explained, tone still as even as ever, apparently not at all concerned with upsetting Breakdown. “Matenapping and barbarian courtship practices often confused, but are not equivalent.”

“They’re—they’re not the same thing?” Breakdown asked, doing his best to focus on Soundwave instead of the small barbarians silently mocking him.

“No. Matenapping equivalent to kidnapping and slavery. Barbarian courtship involves catching a potential mate to exhibit physical traits, then bringing them to the courter’s tribe, using travel time to exhibit further traits that prove the courter will be a good mate and the new tribe a good match. Potential mate may end courtship and return to their tribe at any time.”

Breakdown felt realization dawning unbidden.

“Wait. Really?”

“I can’t believe an idiot citymech like you managed to accidentally court a Velocitron,” one twin grumbled bitterly while the other nodded in agreement.

Soundwave however asked, “Courtship not discussed?”

“No. I mean, we don’t really speak the same language yet—there’s no way he—sorry, I should probably go,” Breakdown stammered, gathering up the fabric in his servos. “You sure I can just--?”

“Gift,” Soundwave insisted.

“You’ll need it,” one twin agreed.

“Thanks,” Breakdown said to Soundwave as he shoved his prize away and turned to leave. However, he only got a step or two before spinning back around and catching Soundwave’s gaze. After a moment of considering and reconsidering, Breakdown asked, “You don’t happen to know what a barithi is, do you?”

That left the minibots stumped, but there was no mistaking the amused flicker of Soundwave’s visor.

[consulting-caffrey]

Fanfiction Questions!

A great big thank you to @tohavealifetimeoffun for letting me use these! 1. What was the first fandom you got involved in? Heartland. 2. What is your latest fandom? White Collar! 3. What is the best fandom you've ever been involved in? The best? That's tough. That's really tough. But in the end I have to go with White Collar. 4. Do you regret getting involved in any fandoms? Nope. Not a single one. 5. Which fandoms have you written fanfiction for? Mainly White Collar because I only started posting just before getting into that fandom seriously. Before that, it was Avengers. 6. List your OTP from each fandom you've been involved in. Heartland: Ty/Amy Iron Man: Pepper/Tony Avengers: Tony/Steve Supernatural: Dean/Lisa (judge me all you want, destiel shippers) White Collar: Neal/Sarah but hell, its hard to choose between that and Neal/Peter because COME ON that show is practically throwing it at us! 7. List your NoTPs from each fandom you've been in. Hoboy... Heartland: Amy/Soraya Uncharted: Chloe/Nadene Iron Man: Pepper/Natasha Avengers: Clint/Laura (I'm sorry but I can't. I will die for Clintasha) White Collar: Neal/Jones (I've seen it, I respect it, I admire from a distance, but I can't. Same with Neal/Diana) 8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom? Well, it started when I stumbled upon it on Netflix and thought one of the guys on there looked cute (I'll let you guess which one) and so I started watching it only to get bored partway through and I went galavanting in the Avengers fandom for a few years before coming back like "Hey I never finished that". And here I've stayed ever since. Stuck. Thanks, Jeff Eastin. 9. What are the best things about your current fandom? Even though the show has ended, the White Collar fandom is still alive and active. Its like we all still stick together and keep track of what Matt Bomer is up to these days like "hey, The Last Tycoon! Also I just wrote another White Collar fic haha pry this show from my cold dead hands". 10. Is there a fandom you read fic from but don't write in? Nah, I don't stray far from White Collar. 11. Who is your current OTP? Gotta be Neal/Peter at the moment. I just love their bromance though. I know those two are like THE ship but I usually prefer Neal/Sarah, which for some reason isn't very well liked, I hear??? 12. Who is your current OT3? Um, the only OT3 I've ever had. Peter/Neal/El 13. Any NoTPs? Neal/Jones, Neal/June (what?), and I don't wanna say its a definite no, because I miiiiight consider Neal/Mozzie. And I have written Neal/Diana but I don't particularly like it. 14. Go on, who are your BroTPs? Peter/Neal of course, Neal/Mozzie 15. Is there any obscure ship that you love? Well not really. Neal/Kate, but I wouldn't call it obscure. 16. Are there any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike? Ehhhh not really. 17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favorite? Ty/Amy from Heartland and yes, I still love those two to bits. 18. What ship have you written the most about? Steve/Tony. Funny since I started out HATING those two together and it was EVERYWHERE all up in my face but then next thing I know I've got like fifty stories about them 19. Is there a ship you wish you could get behind but you just don't feel them? Neal/Mozzie. 20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking? Peter/Neal/El, like I said. I like it, I do. I've just never had an OT3 before and I think that's what threw me off a bit. 21. What was the first fanfic you ever wrote? That would be a Heartland fic that took up an entire notebook. 22. Is there anything you regret writing? Eh... Sometimes. I regret writing things that I don't finish. 23. Name a fic you've written that you're especially fond of and explain why you like it. Neal Caffreys. Oh man I want to continue that little project forever. There are so many possibilities. 24. What fic so you desperately need to rewrite or edit? Ummmm probably Take Me Back To Normal. I need to offer more explanation and reason for my torture haha 25. What's your most popular fanfic? I haven't checked in a while but I believe it's Neal Caffreys. 26. How do you come up with your fanfic titles? Sometimes song lyrics or they just... come to me? 27. What do you hate more: coming up with titles or writing summaries? Summaries oh god... 28. If someone were to draw a piece of fan art for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of? Oooooooo It would be for a story that I'm currently working on (actually a chapter for Neal Caffreys but I really want to make it a full story) where Neal is a horseman. The picture would be Neal standing next to his horse, and the horse would look all badass and everything AGH! Please somebody. Also hey I do have a piece of fan art for my story Tale Me Back To Normal done by @kanarek13 and I love it so much 29. Do you have a beta reader? Why/Why not? I do not. I am very good with English and writing so I can edit my own stuff. In fact, I prefer to. It just kinda feels lazy to pass a piece off to someone else to do that for me. 30. What inspires you to write? Well watching the show helps. Also reading fanfiction. 31. What's the nicest thing that someone has ever said about your writing? Oh gosh, that they go back and read it all the time so I should never take it down. That just made me so happy to hear. 32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? If so, which band of music/genre does it for you? I cannot listen to music when I write. I like to have quiet so I can picture what I want better. If I have music on, I just end up drowning it out anyway. But music itself does inspire me sometimes. 33. Do you write one-shots, multi-chapter fics, or huuuge epics? Oneshots are what I try to stick to, but the multi-chapter thing is also okay. Huge epics? Lol not so much 34. What's the word count on your longest fic? Oh man I gotta go look this up... 35,038 ...Holy crap 35. Do you write drabble? If so, what do you write them about? Hmmm I think I've written maybe two drabble fics? I don't do them often because I like my h/c action torture awfulness. But I do like to get in Neal's head. 36. What's your favorite genre to write? Everybody whose read any of my stuff already knows it's hurt/comfort and angsty things. 37. First person or third person- What do you write in and why? Third person preferably. I just like to get a wider perspective, but with third person, you can also hone in on individuals and their thoughts. 38. Do you use established canon characters or do you create OCs? Both? Obviously my fics are always almost 99% canon characters but I do have OCs that I like to slip in there. I have OCs that I use for RPing but you can find Finnigan Roderas here and there as well as Victor "Vito" Odell in For Your Entertainment. They're a couple of mine. I am a proud parent to at least three more. 39. What is your greatest strength as a writer? The way I can put myself in a scene and imagine all the details, mostly emotions, that go with it. 40. What do you struggle with the most in your writing? Well like I mentioned, I tend to write stories around one small thing I want to get out, and once that thing is out and I've created a mess, I just go "...what now? I didn't think this far ahead..." 41. List and link to five fanfics you are currently reading. Oh man I usually only read one at a time... But I'll put that one down and then add four that I read before it. Enemies http://archiveofourown.org/works/2290154 You Look Like A Koala http://archiveofourown.org/works/2329949 Somehow, Sundown http://archiveofourown.org/works/6159619 Wrong Time, Wrong Place http://archiveofourown.org/works/2435216 Love Lift Me Up http://archiveofourown.org/works/2503781 42. List and link to five fanfiction authors that are amazing. Now this I can do. pooh_collector http://archiveofourown.org/users/pooh_collector/pseuds/pooh_collector Sholio http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio Huntress79 http://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79 Ashley5627 http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashley5627/pseuds/Ashley5627 NYWCgirl http://archiveofourown.org/users/NYWCgirl/pseuds/NYWCgirl 43. Is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you? Definitely @kanarek13 and @archivistsrock Also @hirunoka and all the anons who keep encouraging me to write and keep writing~ 44. What ship do you feel needs more attention? Mozzie/Gina 45. What is your all time favorite fanfic? A week ago, I wouldn't have been able to tell you, but then I found Out of the Wastes by Sholio and I can't tell you how much I love it. Seriously. Go check it out. 46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why? Mmmmm... I don't know that I'd recommend any of them, but I guess Neal Caffreys is my pride and joy. That one. 47. Archive of our Own, Dreamwidth, LiveJournal, Fanfiction.net, or Tumblr- Where do you prefer to post and why? AO3 for sure. I like the setup and everyone on there seems nice so far (barring one strange incident). I used to post on FF but eh... A couple people on there really pissed me off. I'll leave it at that. 48. Do you care if people comment/reboot your writing? Why/Why not? I'm not sure what that means. Comments on my writing in a separate post? Rebooting my story to make a better version themselves? Idk I've never really experienced either of those things, if that's what this means. I guess maybe I wouldn't mind. Not sure. 49. How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction? I got into writing it first because the idea came to me all on its own and I thought I was a genius. Then I believe my dear friend @tfwhancock was like "let me show you FF" and I was stuck there for months. 50. Rant or hush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go! I LOVE THAT IT EXISTS OH MY GOD YES I love that I can use characters that I love and write them and make them do what I want and just AGHHGGH I LOVE IT SO MUCH. It's so fun and exciting and just reading what people come up with is the most amazing thing! When you have to stop reading and just appreciate a line or a phrase like "oh that's good" Mmmmm love me that feeling~ Tagging: anyone who wants to do this!

[ajwmagickl]

2016 Fic Writing Review

Tagged by @canoncannon.  I lost my first draft of this but I’m trying again! Thanks for the tag. 

1. List of works published this year: By word count… The First Night. My second fanfic, and the first time I’ve ever written smut.  It took two counseling sessions, but by golly, I got it out there!

Brothers.  My first fanfic ever in my whole long life.  I was terrified but found out that the Desus community on AO3 is kind and supportive.

A Bedtime Story. This is an out of place little story that didn’t get many hits, but I love it  all the same.  I got the idea from @canoncannon, who promised a fluffy bunny story where everyone lives happily ever after, and I TOOK THAT TOO SERIOUSLY.

The Second Christmas. This was for DWG Holiday Bingo.  I can’t think of little bitty boy Daryl without just wanting to hold him in my lap and cuddle him and tell him everything’s gonna be okay.

Between the Lines. A collection of short ficlets, most drabbles pulled from longer fics because they didn’t fit for one reason or another, but I like them enough to share them.

The Quilt. SO fun to write.  One of my favorites, because Jesus is always so controlled.  I like to knock him for a loop once in awhile.

Candy Cane. Another bingo prompt, another fun one to write!  It was supposed to be longer but I didn’t have time to finish it, so I just stuck a fork in it and called it done.  But it wasn’t done.  Eep.

The Ritual.  A short, dark fic that also had a wonky ending.  It was part of another fic and ended up trying to stand alone.  It might’ve been too ambitious.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why): I worked hard with the characterizations on Brothers, and I’m pleased with how that turned out.  It was just the right amount of fluff and brotherly love.  I’m also pretty darn proud of The Quilt because it was so much fun and made people laugh.  And even though it didn’t get a lot of hits, A Bedtime Story is one of my favorites because it’s so odd.  

3. Work you are least proud of (and why)? The Ritual, because it’s unfinished and I feel like there could’ve been so much more there.  And The First Night, because I felt like the writing was inconsistent and the flow stunted in places. That fic and The Second Christmas both have places I rushed through and should’ve revisited.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:B

From Chapter 2 of Between the Lines, Jesus is contemplating the complexities of all that is Daryl Dixon:  “No, this man was all heart, muscle, bone, and raw emotion; untamed, with a piercing intellect, an instinctual courage, and an uncanny resourcefulness. The confusing part, Paul mused, was that the hunter seemed to have no self-awareness of his attributes, but instead carried the weight of his faults like a yoke.”   Someone actually pointed this paragraph out in a comment and it made my day.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received: NO DOUBT, that’s when I gifted A Bedtime Story to CanonCannon and she (she? he? sh/he?) and she listed her favorite parts.  And it was such a strange little fic, but I felt UNDERSTOOD. :)

6. Share a time when writing was really, really hard: 

It always feels really, really hard.  I fight fear every time.  I write and post even when I think it’s all garbage and I wish I were a better writer.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: I think it was writing The Quilt, because it was pretty effortless writing which is a miracle, and it required very little editing.  Plus, I’ve never written or even thought much about fetishes, and I didn’t really expect to have Jesus be the off-kilter one in this story, but it was fun.  

8. How did you grow as a writer this year: I took the plunge and started writing and posting, and I learned that having a crappy fic or two out there doesn’t matter.  The courage does.

9. How do you hope to grow next year: I feel like I’m still trying to find ‘my voice’.  I can write most honestly in humor, but man I try to write serious stuff it’s like walking across a slimy riverbed - I slip up very easily and feel like I’m always trying to right myself.  Also, I have some multi-chapter fics I’ve been working on that I want to post.  But I need to get to a certain point with them before I put them out there.  I don’t trust myself to finish if I don’t have an endgame in mind.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): SO MANY… some of the Rickyl writers are amazing (Katietheinspiredworkaholic, TWDObsessive) and the Desus writers Mugatu, Waredness, Sherstrader, and of course CanonCannon (can I just stop mentioning you now, I’m getting embarrassed), cougarlips and oxeyegen (I know I’m forgetting some) really impressed, influenced and encouraged me.  I went back to the earlier fictions of some of my favorite writers and found out that they got better and better the more they wrote, and that really helped me out.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

You mean besides my total and complete life obsession with The Walking Dead and Desus?  Yeah, but it came up in a counseling session so shhhh....

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Even if you have no idea what you’re doing, do it anyway.  That’s all I got.  

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I have two multi-chapter fics that still need fleshing out before I post them but I’m really excited about both of them!

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. Well, since I have one follower and they tagged me, I’ll just leave it here.

#desus

#darus

#daryl x jesus

#fanfic

#writing