#if you've ever left an author a really good comment i hope you know you probably made their whole entire day/week/life

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ WHEN SPRING COMES . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀呪術廻戦 ; megumi fushiguro x fem reader

⊹ ⠀⠀ your love for megumi can be compared to a snowflake; delicate and beautiful, stunning and unique. however, spring is coming— and eventually, all snowflakes have to melt. (1.2k)

contains; hanahaki au, rejection, angst, implied death author's note; this is 2 years old pls forgive me,, n hanahaki used to be my favorite trope IM SORRY I POST IT SM ajskl

it’s been over a decade, fifteen years really, of the never-ending winter that you’ve grown so accustomed to. the settled snow has been your comfort zone, a weighted blanket tying you down to his presence since primary school, freezing the ribbon that tied your heart to his for eternity— though only now, you realize that ribbon is a chain, shackling you to a hopeless series of unrequited feelings that could never be returned. you’ve imprisoned yourself to an idea of love that never was. love that you viewed as your personal one-of-a kind snowflake between the two of you; something special and passionate with no barriers or boundaries, which softly flurried around you for your entire lives...

...but snowflakes melt when they touch the ground.

the soft powder is nothing but water now; dirtied water on the blood-ridden pavement, speckled with pink petals of a flower that you used to love. the snowflake is dying. it’s dead. and spring has come.

“tilt your head up,” megumi murmurs with the softest, most lovely voice you’ve ever heard. “you’ve still got some on your chin.”

he’s being generous with his words. you know your skin is stained red, dripping with blood and broken leaves that refuse to be wiped away. luckily for you, he tells you that red is his favorite color— that the scarlet shade compliments your complexion and makes you look beautiful— but you know he’s lying.

the deep clots and black chunks would send anyone into a nauseous fit, he’s too kind to you.

you wish he would be horrible. that he’d hurdle insulting comments, awful remarks, and unforgivable curses— but he’d never.

— and you love him for that.

it’s too bad that he doesn’t feel the same.

he never has. 

he never will.

“does that feel alright?” his washcloth is cold and damp. it’s a muddied mahogany after previously being a gorgeous forrest green. “it’s still warm, right?”

you nod, believing that one more lie won’t hurt your already dreadful situation. “i think you’ve got it all,” the reflection before you is one you recognize, a person of the past that you can’t seem to let go of no matter how many hours you spend wishing them away. “thank you, really.”

despite the normal appearance you now display, with rose-tinted cheeks and swollen eyes, there’s a garden growing in the sink. vines slithering their way down the drain as the water stream attempts to rid them from view. torn tulip petals are strewn across the bathroom floor, and in another life perhaps it would have been romantic to see a flower petal pathway leading towards the bedroom— that’s not your life though. you’ve been left with emptiness and a void of feelings with no return. 

“i’m always here to hold your hair back, i hope you know that.” he smiles with kindness, a genuine goodness that can only be portrayed by him. he’s the best person you know. there’s no mystery as to why you fell for him all those years ago, and why that love has followed you through adulthood. “it’s almost pretty…y’know, in a morbid way.”

hm, funny. morbidly beautiful.

“yeah,” you reply in a snap. “maybe they can be my funeral flowers.”

you've made him angry.

“don’t even joke about that, what the hell?” megumi always gets upset when you say those type of things. his vision turns red and he’s blinded by his own sadness that he forgets that he’s the cause— he’s the calamity that uprooted your formally blissful life. he’s the one who fell in love with someone new. 

winter could’ve lasted forever had he not gone to class that day.

it could raged onwards had he not met her.

you could’ve been hand-in-hand dancing beneath the moonlight on a snowy eve if she hadn’t asked for directions to the library. his kisses could’ve been peppering your face rather than hers if only you’d been more fun, more outgoing, more persuasive, more everything, then maybe he would’ve stayed. 

but megumi didn’t stay...

...he left.

he left as the leaves grew on the barren trees and pollen drifted through the breeze. he said his brief goodbyes to your heart while his chased her’s in yearning. he didn’t so much as glance your way as the hanahaki roots planted themselves in your heart— only choosing to show concern after they’d already grown terminal. he disappeared from your point of view before you could even acknowledge his absence— which was and continues to be unfair.

megumi was yours and now he isn’t. it’s as simple as that. as awful and simple as that. 

“we both know i’m dying.” you murmur, hands folded together as if they're the only things you have left to hang onto. you wish one of those hands could find their place in his warm palm, but the black marker ink etched onto his skin in the shapes of mini hearts and smiley faces are more than enough to drive you away. “there’s no point in denying it anymore. i can barely breathe.”

he shakes his head, backing away from you despite your obvious need for physical comfort.

you thought he knew you better than that. you thought he’d know exactly how to ease your pain, but he doesn’t. he’s very clearly not your soulmate, but for some reason your heart tells you otherwise.

“you’d be able to if you’d just get the surgery,” he says. “please.”

he's begging for something he could solve.

megumi's eyes look dark under the overhead light. “please don’t make me have to see you in a casket.”

the surgery in which the roots are removed from your heart is a tricky one. a procedure that many endure and survive, where they get to continue living their lives healthy and happy— though, are they truly living if they’re void of the love that once consumed them?

“i wouldn’t be able to live with myself, you know that.” your voice is firm, after having had this conversation many times before, “i’d know a part of me was missing. you’re too important for me to just…erase.”

if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’d rather remain in your eternal winter for the rest of your soul’s existence. yes, it’s cold and dreary, with little to no sunlight and hope of a new love or progression in your relationship with him— but it’s familiar. you find it comfortable and there’s no fear in the feelings that you’re already so accustomed to living with everyday. the thought of spring is terrifying. the season following your beloved winter that represents rebirth and new blossoming love is one that you’ll never come to know— which is completely by choice. there’s no point in limping yourself towards spring when there’s no one you’d rather love than megumi. 

these hanahaki tulips won’t see the sunshine they yearn for when the grass regains its color. they’ll simply wither away with you and the lock that refuses to fall, holding your feelings for him in an eternal slumber that will never be woken. 

“i love you.” you say, whilst knowing that that’s the last thing he wants to hear. “i love you so much.”

your confessions of love are a reminder of your little time left, and he hates it.

he wishes it would all stop; but it can’t and it won’t.

perhaps he should’ve given you a chance when the opportunity arose. then you may have been happy. however, he knows that there’s no forcing love.

you’ve been doomed since the moment you’d laid eyes on him. 

love isn't your happiness.

“i’ve only ever loved you.”

it's your demise.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[lackadaisycats]

Sooo. Long-time casual follower of different Lackadaisycats accounts, throughout DA, Tumblr, etc. And, I'd only ever done a spattering of reading in the mid '16s when the comic really caught my attention. I ironically read more of the bonus material than the actual pages. I fell off it while working on my own projects [y'know how it goes], but tonight after watching the pilot a while ago, decided to finally sit and read all of the archive. And. Holy shit. I know 1 ask won't do it justice, but the amount of love and work and time you've put into this is frankly astonishing. The author's notes show but a fettered glimpse into how much time and research has gone into your craft. And as other have noted, the improvement in art quality and skills over time is, without hyperbole, breathtaking. You've not finished the comic, but have already accomplished more in its run than most hope to do. And, frankly, it's inspiring. I know you've heard that dozens of times, but I'm saying it again, because I know the unique, special kind of 'torment' that comes with working on a project like this. Carrying it on your back, putting it out there in hopes that, despite your love for it being all it needs to exist, others will like and enjoy it too. Pushing through those times where you wonder 'is it worth it'. Going so far as to even make a WONDERFUL animated pilot off of it and bring it to life in yet ANOTHER fantastic way. You've created something special, which you show your love for in so many ways, and you've inspired countless people through your craft, your dedication, and just generally being an awesome person to the communities around you. I still reference multiplicities of your drawing tip guides, the Rocky pancakes comic lives in my head rent free along with SO many of your expressions, and your evolution of color and form and lighting in the comic left me with no choice but to download several pages just to gawk at and reference later for studies. Your work has shown me that, so long as I keep at something, it can turn into something beyond what I could have fathomed at the beginning. For everything you've done since the 2000's, and for everything you continue to do in the future, I genuinely wish you the best of luck, health, and that creation always comes as easily to you as it can.

Best regards,

-VT

Thank you so much - both for the kind thoughts and comments, and the wonderful Mordecai artwork here.

It does get very difficult at times to keep moving forward with long term projects, trudging through the self-doubt and trying to navigate life's curveball upheavals. It's been the source of so many good things in my life too, though, and comments like yours really drive home how worthwhile it's been to stick with it. ❤

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Nine (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list). 

Author’s note: Shorter chapter this week (be warned, next week's will be the heftiest yet), but I hope you like this next instalment! It's really gearing us up for the FINAL TWO! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. If you've read this far, THANK YOU! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.8k for this part. 

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Today is a new day. It’s a new day and you’re done crying. You’re done holding on to anger and resentments. 

Besides, you feel as though you gave Santiago everything you had last night, and - at least for now - there is nothing else left to give. 

So, instead of wallowing, you plod downstairs to where Frankie is stationed in the kitchen, offering up your favourite pastries, coffee, and even pulpy, freshly squeezed orange juice. You pull up to the breakfast bar, hopping up on a stool to survey your extravagant pity platter. 

It’s true then. “He’s gone.” 

Frankie nods solemnly, leaning into the other side of the island like he’s a sympathetic bartender in some old Western flick. He claps his palm to your shoulder in a supportive gesture. “I’m sorry, chiquita.”

You shrug. 

His face twists. That’s not all there is. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but…”

“What, Frankie?” 

“He had to bounce but he didn’t want to wake you. Said you looked far too peaceful sleeping for him to come along and fuck that up.”

Your brow notches, absorbing all of that with a contrived neutrality. “How did he… seem?”

Frankie’s eyebrows raise lightly as he ponders, thinking back over prior events. “Calm, actually. Happy, even.” 

“Hmm.” You smile softly to yourself. Makes a change from lately to hear that. You get it though. After last night, you can’t feel anything else either. Even if he technically didn’t say goodbye in words, you get it. You aren’t mad. Chances are one or both of you would have fucked it up this morning. This way at least, it leaves the night you spent together untarnished. Makes it feel like holding on to a good dream, before the realities of the day can set in and make things fraught. 

Frankie’s face crumples with concern as you gaze wistfully into the middle-distance. “You gonna be alright?” 

You pump your eyebrows. Search yourself for feelings. “You know what? Yeah. I am. I’m okay.” 

Frankie’s eyes glint playfully then. “Oh. So you won’t need alllll o’ these yummy pastries?” 

You laugh as he eyes the pain au chocolat pointedly. “Get stuck in, Morales,” you invite fondly, and he obliges, scraping up a stool and wiggling on his ass until he’s comfy. 

“Hey. So,” he says through mouthfuls. “Did you two figure anything out?” 

You groan at the sheer complexity of Frankie’s simple question. Did you? Or are you still going around in circles? “We know we love each other. The rest? Uh. I still don’t know.” 

“He’ll get there.” 

You puff air out from between your teeth. 

“You don’t think so?” Frankie interprets. 

You wrap your arms around your middle. “It’s not that. It’s… I don’t think it was all on him.” You don’t have any blame or accusations left. No grudges to hold on to - your hands are open. You’ve both made mistakes. Manufactured this distance, in your own ways - sometimes literally, sometimes not. You were both just trying to figure all this out as best as you could. 

Frankie’s brows notch and rise with a silent question. How so? What do you mean? 

The thoughts form as you speak them. Clumsy yet intrepid. “I guess... It just feels like we were… Both waiting for the other person to get somewhere, you know? But this whole time, we should’ve been heading there together. Otherwise, how the fuck were we supposed to know where to end up?” You slide a palm over your face. “Christ. Does that make any fucking sense?”

Frankie ponders. “I think so. Like trying to meet on the highway without a time or a place or directions?” 

You reach out and clasp his hand. “You get me, buddy.” 

Frankie blinks, tangling himself up further in your metaphor, but valiantly trying to muddle through. “And so… do you…?” He scratches his chaotic mop of hair. “Do you have a map now? A meeting point? I mean… What happens next? On the highway?” Your mouth lilts into a gentle smile at Frankie’s earnest question. He notes and feeds your amusement, going off the deep-end with this metaphor now. “Are you driving in shifts, chiquita? Grabbing cheez-its for the road?”

You laugh, the musical sound mingling with Frankie’s throaty chuckle. “What happens next?” You repeat the question out loud, carefully, posing it to yourself. Hasn’t that always been the question? However, the very sentiment which used to scare you now feels a lot more like potential. Like possibility. 

Still, you feel -for the moment- like leaving that question hanging. You leave a pregnant pause. You let it breathe. 

For now; you let it go. You let him go. 

“Where are the other guys at, anyway?” 

Frankie rides your tangent with ease. “Packing shit up.” 

“We should help them.” 

“Yeah, we should,” Frankie grins mischievously, and yet neither of you make any effort whatsoever to mobilise. 

Instead, Frankie pours you a cup of coffee from the pot. 

“You wanna call off the hike today?” he asks hopefully, Frankie increasingly a creature of comfort. 

“No. Hell no. I need to move.” You lock your fingers and stretch your arms above your head, a satisfying stretch extending down your spine. 

Frankie’s eyes sparkle across at you. “Just not in aid of helping the Millers pack their trunk, huh?” 

“Exactly! What did I tell you, bud. You get me.” 

You do though. You need to move. You need to move forward. No more standing in place. No more moving in circles, always repeating. 

Still, when you think about it. When you think to what is ahead, to what is next, your stomach drops. You feel overcome by a sudden anxiety which you can’t place at first. Like having misplaced something dear to you. Like having done something wrong but not being able to recall exactly what. Then, all of a sudden, you understand it entirely. 

“Listen. Tell me about this job, Frankie.” 

He immediately tenses up. “What job?” 

You take a bite of your pastry. “The one with Lorea’s cash house.”

Frankie simply groans. He always knows more than he lets on, this one. About everything. Everyone. 

“Is it true? That you and the boys are in?” 

You can plainly see his reticence to respond. But you know for a fact that he’s about to cave. 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

“They need a pilot,” Frankie states, looking up at you with guilty, puppy dog eyes. 

“Fuck me. He dragged you back in too, huh? You know… Sometimes I wonder if any of us are good for each other.” Your tone grows mildly irate, your heart quickening, but you recognise it for what it is. It’s simply anger veiling worry. You love these boys. 

“Come on, don’t say that,” Frankie bargains. “We’ve dragged each other out of hell.”

“And back again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath. His tongue pokes around the meat of his cheek. “He says it’s simple recon. In and out. No mess.” 

You jut your chin up. Stare at him levelly, unblinking. You know that Frankie will give it to you straight. Know that he can’t help himself. “And you buy that?” 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

“Not for a fucking second.” 

You scoff, shaking your head. Not when it comes from Santiago, no. After all, you’ve fallen for Santiago’s bullshit plenty of times yourself. It’s the fact that Frankie would wander in with his eyes wide open to it that really gets you. It’s something else. 

Still, before you can chastise him for being so stupid, Frankie glumly offers up some explanation. “Look. I need the job. I… I got my license revoked.” 

Your heart drops - and your face with it. Your hands clamp over your mouth. “Frankie,” you say softly, with empathy. “Fuck.”

He hunches in on himself despondently, his hands disappearing up his sleeves, his fists clenching and his gaze cast downward. “I fucked up, man. Cassie has a baby on the way and I fucked up.” His eyes swim with a deep shame. 

“Coke?” you venture, tentatively.  

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Frankie.” Your hand swipes over your face, and your eyes fill with concern for him. His palm waves in the air, however, quickly dismissing any sympathies you may care to bestow. 

“I’m back on track. Getting there. I am.” His eyes are nothing but determined. Sincere. “But I need this gig. No matter how fucking hare-brained a scheme that pendejo is cooking.” 

“Think of the baby, dude.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Frankie says forcefully, in a harsh tone he rarely uses, and you know in no uncertain terms that the conversation is done. That he’s made his mind up, and that he won’t hear you out any further on the matter. 

You swallow. Regroup. You chew on some platitudes, but none of them feel quite right. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Frankie says after a stretched, tense moment. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“It’s okay,” you jostle his shoulder, and it shakes a little of the tension from him and the room. “I get it. And shit. I’m sorry for putting all of my bullshit on you this weekend. I wish you’d said something, Cat.” 

He shrugs. Speaks with finality. “There’s not much to say. It’s done. I just need to make it right. And I will.”

“I believe it. But you do know that I’m… If you need… Anything, Frankie.” 

He looks up at you then, the warmth back in his eyes as your voice cracks, searching for the words. But, he already knows everything you could ever say. You’ve said it before, a hundred times. He knows you love him. Knows you’re proud of him. Knows you’d do anything for him. Knows you want the best for him. He knows it already. 

In turn, you are sure that he already knows everything you could possibly call him out on. That he’s already thought about it. Weighed it up. Thought about the risks. About the possibility that he’s acting out of desperation. The possibility that he’d probably be better off staying the hell away from Pope’s schemes. 

He scrapes his stool back and comes to you, bundling you into a tight, warm, big brother hug. You tug in a deep breath, and you let it go. You’re done trying to control everything around you. It never really got you anywhere. 

Still, there’s an undeniably uncomfortable knot in your chest as you think about them all gearing up. Strapping on their tac vests. Shoving clotting pads into their med packs. It makes you feel physically ill. And so, you can’t help yourself. “Do me a favour, Frankie? Don’t take Tom?” You muffle the words into his shirt, half hoping they will get lost there. That maybe he didn’t even hear you. But, you know when he braces his hands on your shoulders to get a good look at you, that your game is up. 

“Why not?” 

You see it then, in his eyes. That Tom is not a risk Frankie has considered. His presence not something he has weighed up. 

You deliver your words as plainly and transparently as possible. “He’s too hungry, Cat.” 

Frankie simply locks eyes with you, as though trying to weed out your motives. Shrewdly trying to assess your conclusions. Is this just your petty vendetta talking? Is this intelligence? Is this coming from your gut? 

“Please. Just trust me.”

“I do,” he nods eventually, but you should know better than to feel any relief. And next, there it is. “I do but it’s not my call.” 

Well. You’ve said your piece. You guess that’s all you’ve got. Absent-mindedly, you tug on Frankie’s lapels. “You’d better come back to me, Cat,” you plead plaintively. “And by God, you’d better bring those other fuckers back with you to boot.” 

With a wistful affection, Frankie tugs you to him again and you stand there in silence for a few more moments, the sounds of the other guys evident in the background. In time, you and Frankie release each other and gravitate towards them, tucking yourselves under the porch to survey their efforts packing up the trucks. 

“We should probably help,” you repeat again, and, to your side, your hear Frankie’s murmur of agreement. However, when you glance to him you see his long, lean frame stretched out up against the wooden porch post. He looks like a man with nowhere else to be in a hurry.  

“Fuck,” he curses at nothing in particular, surveying the animated bodies of his buddies before him with both awe and trepidation. “How did we get here? Years of service and none of us have anything to show for it.” 

That’s a Santiago sales pitch, through and through, you reckon. You recognise his propaganda. Funny, since he used to swallow the flag for breakfast. Is that how he got to him then? Convinced Frankie he could finally make bank? Take what he deserved? Ah. Or give his family what they deserved? Frankie is all about family. 

A sad smile twitches your mouth. “Well. That’s not entirely true, is it? Not nothing.” You think of what you’ve gained from all of this. “I got a gaggle of weird ass brothers. A suitcase full of trauma. A fucked back. And! An array of unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

Despite the darkness of your statement, Frankie’s eyes crinkle. What else is left to do but laugh, anyway? “Maybe Will should put that in his speech.”

You belly chuckle at that, moving to lean up against the opposite post. “Yeah. Scare those poor recruits off before they can end up like us, huh?” 

Frankie looks wistful again. “It hasn’t been all bad.” 

No. It hasn’t. He’s not wrong about that. 

You ponder on it. If you could go back and change your path - would you? But, despite everything, your squad would be far too much to lose. “Sure. The weird thing is, as shitty as it’s been at times? I wouldn’t change it for the world.” 

There is a beat, and Frankie reaches out across the space between you and wordlessly clasps your hand. 

“Listen. You gonna be okay, Frankie?” He looks down at his worn sneakers, contemplatively, as though he really doesn’t know the answer yet. You give his hand a squeeze, trying to let him know that’s okay. “We’ll talk more, okay?” 

He nods - a subtle, concessionary thing, like maybe he could really do with that. 

“I get why you didn’t tell me. But I’m sorry. That I didn’t do a better job of asking.” 

“It’s not on you,” he says generously. A little too generously, in your estimation. You’ve been rather wrapped up in your own shit. A little too self-involved. “I know I can talk to you. I just… I, uh. Didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” The irony of that statement causes a throaty chuckle to bounce in Frankie’s neck, and your palm slides over your face in regret even as you laugh in reciprocity. 

“Christ. I did a great job of that all by myself.”

“Well,” Frankie says good-naturedly, shifting to bump your hip with his. Wrapping his crooked arm over your shoulder. “You had some help.” 

It is your turn now to look wistful, as you contemplate the storm that is Santiago, and all the rubble he left behind. “He’s really gone again.” Frankie simply squeezes you a little tighter. “Hey. Anything else I should know, by the way?” you needle. “You’re not holding out on me?”  

Frankie sucks air through his teeth. “Tom and Molly. She finally served him papers.” 

You fold forward, hinging to collapse your upper half onto the porch rail. “Fuck. Shit. I really need to start being nicer to that shithead.” Still, from behind, Frankie’s familiar chuckle buoys you, even as you inwardly berate yourself for getting wrapped up in your own business. “We’re all messes, huh, Frankie? Do you think we can fix it?” 

“Yeah. Yeah. I do.” 

“Truly?” 

“Truly.” 

You toss him a soft, grateful smile, which extends as Will makes his way over to your position, greeting you “Hey, slackers!”. You and Frankie share a conspiratorial glance. 

“All set for the hike, Captain?” 

“No thanks to you.” 

“I had an alternate mission. Ranks of pastries to deplete.”

Will feigns tiredness, but his baby blues sparkle even as he rolls them. 

“Anyway. Didn’t need you. All set to head out as soon as you slackers get your act together. You wantin’ to do the usual route, hon?” 

You brace your arms against the porch rail. Dig your fingers into the wood. “No,” you say, the words a little tight in your chest, but they feel good. “Not today. There’s somewhere else. Somewhere I always wanted to go.” 

Somewhere new. 

“Fine by me,” Frankie offers. “Just let me grab more pastries.” 

***

You relish the hike, when it comes. You relish walking a path that is -to you- entirely untrodden. That he can’t touch. You walked the old, familiar trails for too long, and the only place it ever got you was right back where you started. 

The bullshit ends here. You’ve decided. 

And so, you turn your attention away from your sun, and to the wider constellation of stars around you. To yourself. 

You even do your best to make peace with Tom. To put old grudges to bed. 

You relish the hike. Enjoy the undulating landscape. You don’t know for sure what’s next, or where you’re going, but the difference is that for once, that feels okay. Full of potential. 

You walk until your legs burn, and when you get to the summit you take a moment to drink in the crisp, clifftop air. To look out across the ocean. To see it from a distance and to know that this time, it cannot break you over and over and over. 

Still, when you’re at the top, as if by providence, Santiago texts you. 

“Hey. Sorry I had to take off early. I wanna say… Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“For the best night of my life.” 

“Ah. Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, and you press the button to call him. You immediately call him. He immediately picks up. “Hi.”

”Hi. What’s up? They just announced my gate.”

”That’s okay, I’ll be quick. I, uh. I just needed to tell you too. Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For a proper goodbye.” 

“Look, I’m sorry that I-”

“-I’m not mad, Santi. I think… I think we said everything we have to say, right? I think it was…”

”…Perfect?”

”Yeah. Yeah, pretty perfect.” 

“Listen. It’s selfish, but. With everything coming up. The Lorea job and… I needed it, you know? Needed that image of you sleeping.” 

There’s an ache in your chest and it’s bittersweet. 

He cares for you in every way he knows how, doesn’t he? In every way he can. He’s not perfect, but hey, neither are you. You’re both a little bit broken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t heal. And most of all, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love while you’re doing it. 

One day, he’ll turn up at your door, and he’ll be welcome. Whenever that is. Whenever it happens. But until then, you can’t just wait for him. 

Until then, you’ll love him; from a distance. 

No longer can you leave him in anger. No longer can he break you. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Maybe one day, that will even be enough. 

“Would you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Come back and visit soon, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”  

You conclude the call, and you stretch your arms above your head. A pleasant tingle snakes down your back as it cracks. You haven’t felt so relaxed in a long time. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such peace. 

The path that you are walking is yours, and you implicitly trust where it’s taking you. 

***

You are grateful to slip into the passenger side of Frankie’s car, beginning the drive back to the city and signalling the end of your stay at the beach house. Still, there is something bittersweet there too as you leave behind the site of so many memories from over the years - and now, the site of your most perfect night with Santiago. 

It reminds you of all you’ve been through. The ups and the downs and plenty of things which went sideways. You are starting to realise though, that perhaps the landscape of love is undulating. That sometimes the terrain is tough. It shouldn’t have been quite so tough though - so steep and unforgiving; and so, you hope for gentler, easier paths ahead. 

It is bittersweet then, as you leave this place behind. 

As you look forward, having said goodbye. As you wrestle with your past, future, and present. 

Frankie swings the car out and onto the highway, the Millers up ahead and Tom behind, your vehicles forming a convoy through the dark, the glow of headlights illuminating the route ahead. 

You sit in silence, eyes and thoughts unfocussed, in abstraction, as you watch vague shapes and colours slipping by the window, your own face occasionally reflected right back at you. You look older than you used to. More tired. But you don’t dislike that. 

After a while, Frankie’s robust voice slices through the dark, his eyes on the road and hands threading the wheel. “I don’t know if this will make things better or worse but… Do you want to hear it?” 

You swivel your head towards him, fractured, liquid panels of light slipping over the planes of his face as your surroundings pass by in a haze. “Hear what?” 

“Pope’s heartbreak playlist?” 

Your hands dig into your thighs where they rest. “Do I?”

“Well?” Frankie asks, his finger poised over the button, and evidently not willing to make that decision for you. 

“Yeah. Fuck it.”

You brace a little, in all honesty. A tightness takes hold of your chest as you wonder if the first track to befall your ears might be angry. Resentful. Full of blame or sadness that you can’t hope to wrestle with and come out on top. But, as the first notes of the track sound out, you are surprised to find a full, unfettered laugh rises from out of your throat. The tears swell in your eyes next, for it is nothing if not bittersweet. 

“That dickhead. I can’t believe…” 

You can’t believe it. The fact he has chosen a song which reflects your life together? Which reveals a happy memory? 

He loves you, doesn’t he? He has for a long time. And you can’t help but hope that maybe one day, that will even be enough. For tonight though, it will definitely do. You’ll take it. You’ll treasure it. 

“Whiskey in the Jar,” Frankie scoffs as he catches on to the song, even if his fingers are drumming against the lip of the wheel involuntarily. “I mean. What the shit’s that all about? He’s a weird kid, I swear.” 

“Frankie,” you laugh brightly, turning once again to look wistfully out of the window, as the view of the beach house and the ocean recedes into the distance. You catch another glimpse of yourself in the pane, and this time you look younger, you think. More alive. “Did I ever tell you about that night in Philadelphia?”

[kyokutsu-sama]

Shunsui,Byakuya,Kenpachi Submissive to fem! Reader headcanons 👀 NSFW

Love your writing!!! 🥰

Author's note: Hi !! I hope your're well, I'm glad you like my works here. I must say you gave me such a good idea for headcanons, I enjoyed writing these and I hope you like it too❤️

Shunsui:

So, as we all know, he is a perfect gentleman (I can confirm that) and this makes him want to be dominant all the time because he wants to please his beloved. However, If you show him that you can take control over him, he will happily let you do whatever you want to do with him.

He can't deny how beautiful you look on top of him and running your hands over his body, he wouldn't mind dying of pleasure at that moment much less with you riding him.

Although he seems submissive at that moment he can't leave his little dirty jokes aside, he doesn't intend to ruin the mood of the situation but at least try to ease the tension a little.

He would say things like "Wow baby, you should see yourself now. You look so pretty"; "Go ahead, show me what you have for me"; "I really wouldn't mind being submissive in the hands of the most beautiful woman in all of Soul Society for the rest of my live"

You can't help but give a victorious smile when you see that you've managed to tame the head captain and that you're going to tease him a lot because of that, especially because of the fact that he's completely surrendered to you and that moments like that make you feel like a queen.

Byakuya:

It is difficult to get this man on his knees and obeying, very difficult. However, you have the power to do this and you are proud of it. Having a serious man like Byakuya fucking Kuchiki under your orders was something that not even he expected until he experienced it once.

He liked it, he really liked it but he didn't admit it in words and he even blushed when you questioned him about it.

He couldn't help but be surprised when you put yourself on top and left him so submissive beneath you and looking confused too.

"Are you thinking of dominating me, are you Y/n?"; "Do you think you can do it?" He questions you but you just smile and show him that he is the one who will end up begging for you and not the other way around.

You'll be able to get a lot of moans and heavy sighs from him as you show him who's in charge, he can't hide how good it is to be submissive sometimes. Just like Shunsui, he thinks you're perfect but the only difference is that he won't be making dirty comments every five minutes about it.

Kenpachi :

He is as difficult to dominate as Byakuya, but deep down Kenpachi would like to have a worthy opponent to challenge him and get him out of his boredom.

He is the one who is always dominant most of the time and everyone knows, what some don't know is that he also wants to have you take on this role and you can't wait for that day.

When you do it for the first time, there are two types of reactions: You smile in victory and he laughs at seeing you dominating him like no one has ever done.

"Do you think you can dominate me, woman?" ; "Show me your strength and try to beat me"; "Just look at how hot you look right now"

You'll have to make the most of it because you're sure he won't let you get control anytime soon. Seeing him so submissive was one of the hottest and rarest things you've seen in your entire life.

He doesn't admit it but he was proud of what you did but don't you dare tease him about it. It's just an advice....

[bradtomlovesya]

Goodbye

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You only have a couple minutes left and you still have to say goodbye.

Warnings: ANGST! (in capital letters). Mentions of death, mentions of blood, injuries.

w/c: 2.1k +

A/N: This is the most harmful shit I have ever written so read under your own risk. I went to sleep at 3 am for this. I was literally sobbing. I hope you like it and likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciate it. Love ya.

Support and author by sharing their work. (Gif not mine)

You should have listened to Peter when he told you not to go on that road trip alone. You didn't want to put it off. A member of your family was going through a difficult situation and you had to be there for support. Your home was 3 states away from where you lived with Peter so it would be a long road trip, you hated planes so you went by car.

It's too late now to regret it.

"I don't like the idea of you going alone. Let me come with you." Begs your boyfriend as you pack your suitcase in the car.

"You know you can't, you have a thesis to present and I can't keep putting it off. My family needs me, Peter."

"I know they need you. I'm not telling you not to go but please take me with you." He takes your hand.

"I'll be fine." You kiss his lips and get into the car.

The smell of blood now flooded your nostrils and your ears endured a ringing that seemed to have no end.

Breathing burned. Your lungs begged for oxygen but it felt like a burn every time you gave it to them.

You had no reason for time or space. You had no idea why everything looked so blurry. Maybe it's a dream, one of those many bad dreams you've had.

There is a face in front of you. A young man with a bloody forehead and nose. You want to ask him if he's okay but you're too stunned to utter a word.

You know he's saying something by the way his lips are moving but you can't hear it, yet.

Your brow is furrowed. You try to bring yourself back to the here and now. ~Concentrate, y/n.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry." You manage to finally hear what the young man says and pick up his phone to call an ambulance. You don't look at all well. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?" He tries to get your attention.

"I can't move," you mumble. The more you regain consciousness, the more you notice the terrible pain in your head and in your stomach. Right in your right side.

"Yes, yes she's conscious but she's on the tarmac. It's very dark, I can't see anything." The stranger sobs next to you. "You have to come now, please." He mumbles an address you can't make out and focuses his gaze on you. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He moves his free hand towards you but regrets it just before he touches you.

"Hey, take it easy." You try to stay calm for both of us. "What's your name?"

"Tyler" he replies wiping his nose and puts the phone aside as soon as the call cuts off.

"Tyler, it's y/n." You make a great effort to speak. Only one of you can move and that's not you so you do your best to calm him down.

"Are the paramedics coming?" You look him in the eye and feel your side twinge.

"The call went dead." He explains. "The girl on the phone said to stay calm."

"Did you give them our location?" you ask hopefully.

"Yes, I did. They said they would send someone as soon as possible but the call was cut off."

You close your eyes for a moment trying to let the pain subside but it only gets worse. "Try calling them again and stay with whoever answers the phone while they arrive."

Tyler nods and after a few tries manages to connect the call. The girl behind the phone asks him to describe what he sees and that's when you get an idea of how bad it is.

The front window of your car is broken. You were thrown out because of a seatbelt failure. Your leg looks broken, according to Tyler, and worst of all, there's a pool of blood coming out of your right side. That explains the stinging you feel.

"That's not good, is it?" You ask trying to hope. The paramedics will arrive and everything will be fine.

"The girl says to put my hands on your wound and keep them there until the paramedics arrive." Tyler moves his hands and asks permission before placing them on your wound making you cry out in pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeats over and over.

"It's okay," you try to control your breathing and feel your eyes roll back in your head.

The girl on the other end of the phone, now in a loud voice, asks Tyler not to stop talking to you and he does. You must stay conscious.

You respond a few times to his nervous attempt at conversation, tell him about your life and try to focus on something beyond the pain.

Minutes pass. Many minutes. Forty minutes, to be exact, and still no sign of help.

Your body feels weak and keeping your eyes open becomes increasingly difficult. That's when you remember how far you were from the nearest town or city when you had the accident and reality hits you in the face.

"Tyler?" You put your hands on top of his looking for some warmth. You're cold. it's cold.

"Yes?" he replies almost immediately.

"What does the ambulance girl say?" You ask.

"That we should wait a little longer. Help is on its way," he says with feigned assurance. He tries to convince himself that the paramedics will arrive on time.

"I need your help with something." Tyler nods for you to continue. "Please look for my phone in my car and call Peter. He's my boyfriend."  You ask. Now you understand you're on borrowed time.

"No, the girl said my hands are the only thing that stops the bleeding long enough for help to arrive. I'm not moving." He denies.

"Please." You beg, feeling an immense urge to cry but you're too weak to do so. "We're in the middle of nowhere and, look at me, I don't have much time left."

"No, please. They're going to come and you're going to be fine." he cries again inconsolably. He knows you're right.

"Tyler, please," you plead with every ounce of strength you have left. "I don't want to leave without saying goodbye."

The young man hesitates, not wanting to take his hands away and then regret it. But he feels so guilty about the accident that he agrees and reaches for your phone.

One ring, two rings, on the third ring, Peter answers the call. Tyler puts the speakerphone on and puts his hands back on your side.

"Love, are you coming back? Did you stop for lunch?" Peter asks through the speaker.

"Peter..." you smile sadly at the sound of his voice and feel tears well up in your eyes.

"Is everything alright? You don't sound so good." The concern in his voice is noticeable.

"Peter, I had an accident on the way home. You get straight to the point, you have no time to waste. "It doesn't look very-" you cut off your coughing breath and the metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. "It doesn't look good for me."

"Wh-what?" you hear her breathing hitch. "Where are you? I'll come right away. Tell me where you are," he asks.

"I'm far away, Pete," you murmur and close your eyes to rest for a moment, just a moment. "I don't have much time left."

"What about the paramedics? Are you alone? I'll call 911," you hear the keys on the phone in your shared flat click and you open your eyes again.

"I'm with Tyler, he was in the accident with me and he's looking after me" you smile weakly at him. "But we're so far away from everything, love. I don't want to waste my last minutes talking about how far away the paramedics are." You plead.

"Don't say that, please. You're going to be fine" He reasons as fast as he can. He's still processing the information.

"I love you, Peter Parker. I love you with every fiber in my body." You struggle to hold on a little longer. Just a few more minutes, please.

Peter walks out into the street and gets into a taxi.

"I'll track your phone. I'm going to find you. You're not going to die, okay?" You hear his voice crack.

"Remember that summer at the beach when we saw that family playing ball?" You change the subject.

"Y/n..." tries to stop you from speaking but you continue.

"You said you wanted a family as happy as that." You smile at the memory. "A wedding, two or three kids, a little house in the suburbs, a job from home so you could spend time with the kids, and a Golden Retriever for a pet." You feel tears running down your cheeks. "I would have loved to have been able to give you all that, it was my dream too."

"We will. We will, just-" he takes a big breath of air so you he doesn't collapse in the taxi. "Hang in there."

Peter would have preferred to swing but there are no buildings outside the city and he would have had to hang up the call. He wasn't going to hang it up for the world.

"I'm sorry I argued with you about that new TV. I love our movie Fridays." You admit. "It wasn't an unnecessary expense."

"I know. I bought it for you," he sobs. This can't be the end.

"Little May and little Ben would have loved movie Fridays too. Especially since their dad would have made the richest and weirdest popcorn combinations." You laugh before coughing again and spitting up blood.

"May and Ben are the best names" he laughs sadly. "Y/n please, I can't lose you too. You're all I have left" you hear him crying on the other end of the phone. It's clear he's not trying to control himself anymore.

"I'll love you even when I'm gone" you whisper and leave your eyes closed for a longer period of time.

"Please open your eyes, y/n" Tyler moves your face with one of his hands and you open your eyes again.

"Listen to him, don't close your eyes," your boyfriend denies into the phone. He has never felt so helpless in his entire life.

"I'm tired" you fix your blurred gaze on the phone lying on the tarmac next to you.

"You can't leave, not like this" he wipes away his tears and tries to control his breathing but it's unavoidable. "I have to marry you..." he pleads.

"If you want me to marry you you have to ask me first" you joke.

"Will you marry me?" Peter asks between sobs as he thinks about the box with a ring hidden in his old Spiderman uniforms. He was going to ask you very soon, he didn't expect it to be like this.

"Yes and a thousand times yes," you smile with your eyes closed but open them again to look at Tyler. "Did you hear that, Tyler? I'm getting married." You say with as much excitement as you can muster. "You're invited to the wedding." You mumble closing your eyes again.

They stay open too little time, they're too heavy.

"You can take the ring out of your uniform box now," you mutter lower and lower.

"Did you know that?" your boyfriend asks in surprise.

"I know all about it, my super hero" your breathing slows down.

Peter looks at his phone. There are miles between you. He won't make it in time.

"No, you're the super hero. It's always been you," he presses the phone to his ear. "I love you, Y/n y/l/n."

"I love you too, Peter," you murmur almost inaudibly. "Can I ask you something?" You use the last of your strength to speak a little louder.

"Whatever" Parker nods quickly.

"Promise me that you won't stop looking for love and that you'll try to be happy even if it's not with me." You say earnestly.

"I can't do-" you stop him before he says anything else.

"Promise me, Peter. Please promise me. I have to hear you say it."

Peter swallows hard. He doesn't want to do anything you just said. How could he be happy without you? But nevertheless, he responds.

"I promise," he says before bursting into tears again.

This can't be goodbye.

You're exhausted, you don't think you can keep your eyes open for much longer. A few seconds pass and all you hear is Peter's sobs on the other end of the line.

"Y/n?" he asks but you don't answer. You vaguely hear him but the voice is getting further and further away. "No no no no, y/n answer. Please" exclaims your boyfriend. "Don't go" he clenches the phone tightly in his hand.

Endless memories flash through your mind.  You are glad that they are happy for the most part.

Is this what it feels like to die? At least you were able to say Goodbye.

|°|°|°|°|°|

Peter Parker Tags:

@raajali3 @fangirling-galore @powerpuffluuvv @itszulli @hallecarey1 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kaitieskidmore1 @lnmp89 @pure-a-tea @vixparker @army24--7 @spiderydreams00 @my-name-duh @nani-2305 @mochimm @ietss @prancerrparkerr @Lynnzilla3000 @hpsgirlrw @Lynnzilla3000 @hollandweather

Let me know if you want to be added/removed.

[libraryofantiquitea]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡.

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x civilian female reader

summary: jake visits you at the gallery where you work after he's done training for the day. it becomes very apparent that you've both caught feelings.

warnings: explicit, minors do not interact! oh look, it's smut again! but this time there is [drumroll] some plot! unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), jake being turned on by his own callsign.

word count: 5.1k

author's notes: no beta, we die like goose. mainly because i didn't want to subject anyone to how long this part is!

i hadn't intended for this to become a series, but this is the third part in august slipped away.

previous: pt. i | tell me my name pt. ii | tokyo summer

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥

There was a small art gallery just outside of Miramar; if you wanted to wander around for hours you’d need to make your way into the city proper to go to the San Diego Museum of Art, but if you just wanted to browse some more local art and perhaps purchase a painting or piece of artwork, Evergreen Brush was there for all of your artsy needs.

And that was where you worked as a curator, helping select the pieces and artists that you featured, and turning on your charm to sell artwork to sailors and aviators who might not know the first thing about artwork but wanted a little piece of San Diego to bring home with them.

Jake had texted you early in the morning, he was training pretty much all day but would come and pick you up after you closed the gallery and take you out. For what, he didn’t say, but you didn’t really give a damn where you went, you just wanted to spend time with him.

You had just flipped the sign on the door over to CLOSED for the evening as the familiar sound of fighter jets passed overhead, and you idly wondered if Jake was in one of them.

Fidgeting with some of the everyday rings you wore on your fingers, you wandered further into the gallery to do your “end of day” tasks. It had been a few weeks since you’d met Jake at The Hard Deck, a few weeks since you’d begun this situationship with him. You had promised yourself a very long time ago that you’d never get involved with another military man, but then had realized that if you were going to live in Fightertown that you really didn’t have much of a choice if you wanted to date ever again.

Jake was the type you should’ve run away from, but you had been powerless then to say no to his invitation out for a drink. He was definitely the type you’d normally go out with once, bring back to your home for the night, and that would be that. But there was something incredibly disarming about him that you hadn’t anticipated, a wall that he knocked down everytime you were in his presence.

You got the feeling that wasn’t something that he did often, and wondered what made you so special.

That first night, Jake had told you that he didn’t know how long he would be around. He couldn’t tell you much about what he was doing, it was very hush hush, but you got the impression that the mission was perilous enough that he might not return. And even if he did, this wasn’t where he would be posted long term. Whenever he left that would be it.

You’d had relationships, flings, with expiration dates before, but this was different. With the unknown “best before” date looming over your head, you tried your hardest not to catch feelings. It was fucking impossible with the likes of Jake Seresin.

Sighing, setting some invoices down on the counter, you raised your head and looked across the room to a series of abstract paintings, hoping they would put your mind at ease, quell the noise that would just not shut up.

There was no future with Jake, so it was best to just have a good time while you had him.

Convincing yourself of that was easier said than done.

In the employee lounge, the owner kept all kinds of liquor. Wine, whiskey, beer, anything a customer making a big purchase, an artist making a big sale, or a stressed out curator might crave. You made your way back there and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, knowing that it was Jake’s favourite. You didn’t know if he’d want to stick around, or what manner of plans he had for you both when he inevitably arrived, but there was no way you were going to have a drink and not offer him some.

-

You were just wrapping up recording sales for the day when there was a knock on the door. Glass of whiskey lifted halfway to your lips,  you looked over to see Jake at the front door, hands in his pockets, smiling broadly when you made eye contact.

You giggled, feeling like a teenager being picked up for a school dance.

Somehow you managed to keep yourself from running to the door, though you moved as quickly as your feet and self respect could take you. From the other side of the door, Jake held your gaze as you unlocked it, before swinging it open and allowing him access.

“Hey darlin’,” he said brightly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close for a kiss.

“Hey,” you murmured, returning his kiss and draping your arms over his shoulder. “Gimmie a sec and I’ll lock the door.”

You mournfully pulled yourself from Jake’s embrace and moved to lock the door, while he stepped further into the gallery. “I never knew this place existed until you told me about it,” he said, looking around at some of the paintings.

“I don’t think it’s in the pamphlets they give you when you arrive at TOPGUN about sights to see while you’re here,” you teased, locking up and turning around. “I found a bottle of whiskey in the break room. Would you like some?”

“Baby girl,” Jake said, tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrows as he turned to look at you. “C’mon.”

You grinned so brightly that your face hurt, and you walked over to the counter to pour a glass for Jake and another one for yourself. 

“Very different work environment from mine,” Jake teased, taking a glass and then clinking it against yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you repeated, watching him for a moment before taking a sip from your glass.

You couldn’t stop watching him; the way his Adam's apple bobbed as the alcohol slid down his throat, the way his green eyes practically twinkled in the low light, the closeness of him when he truly did not have to be that close at all.

It had been a few days since you’d seen him, and all you could think about was the last time you had seen him. Your face felt warm, and whether it was from Jake’s presence or the liquor you would never truly know.

“I just need to finish some paperwork, and then I’m all yours for the night,” you said, shuffling some papers and clearing your throat. More for your own benefit than Jake’s. “Feel free to have a browse.”

Jake smiled at you, before slowly pacing over to the wall of paintings. “I think I will, darlin’.”

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to look down to finish what you had been working on, even if your eyes wanted to follow Jake through the gallery, watch the way his hand clutched at the glass of whiskey, the broad span of his shoulders, his perfect ass.

You told yourself the sooner you got done with paperwork, the sooner your hands could busy themselves with something else.

It was just as you were finishing up that you heard Jake say, “Could you tell me more about this one?”

Smiling, you moved from behind the counter, grabbing your drink along the way and sauntering over to where Jake was standing. When you realized exactly which painting he was talking about, something in your stomach began to flutter.

It was one of yours.

“Well,” you began, as you stood next to Jake, “this is a contemporary figurative painting. The artist specializes in the genres of portraiture and landscape. But, with this painting she has found a way to … sort of combine the two.” You looked out the corner of your eye to observe Jake, to find that he was hanging on your every word, and seemed genuinely interested. “The landscape in question is the artist’s own body.”

“Hmm,” Jake hummed, before looking closely. “She’s laying down, right? The curves of her body look like rolling hills.”

“That was precisely her intent,” you continued, looking over at Jake. “She isn’t always her body’s biggest fan, and society as a whole still has a problem with bodies that don’t fit the typical beauty standard. So, she is subverting their judgemental gaze by focusing on just a small part of her body, at an angle that most people would not see her in.”

Jake inhaled sharply, as if processing, and you briefly wondered if you’d made yourself too vulnerable, put too much on the table. Of course you and Jake had enjoyed some deeper discussions since meeting, and you’d talked about your art with him, but this was different than all of that. This was opening up in a way that you didn’t with even people you’d known for quite a long time. He’d be right to be put off by it.

“I think it’s stunning,” Jake said quietly, before polishing off what remained of his whiskey and then letting his arm hang loosely at his side, holding the glass by the rim. “And I’ve seen this body from this angle. It’s one of the most gorgeous and magnetic things I’ve ever seen.”

“Jake,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. You were alternately touched and thought that he was putting on quite the show.

“What?” he asked, turning his attention from the painting to look over at you, eyebrow raised quizzically.

“You don’t have to flatter me so much,” you said, reaching for the empty glass and offering him a smile. “You already have me.”

“Darlin’,” Jake began, his voice dropping into that low register that drove you wild, “I’m not … saying that to try and butter you up. This is gorgeous.” He gestured to the painting. “I don’t know much about art, but I think I know what I like.” He paused, simply looking into your eyes for a moment. “I want to buy it.”

“Jake,” you began, biting at your bottom lip and shaking your head slightly. “C’mon. You don’t really want to buy a painting of my back curving into my ass. There are so many better paintings here. If you want some art I’d be happy to -”

“I’m not playing at something,” Jake insisted, brow furrowing as you turned toward the breakroom. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey. I like you. We wouldn’t be doing … this, if I didn’t. I like your art. I want to buy some.”

You’d whirled around, facing him, and swallowed hard. God, he was going to make you talk about all of this, wasn’t he?

“I can make you some art. Some better art. You don’t want that one,” you insisted. “Besides, it costs far too much money.”

“So give me a discount then,” Jake said, smiling at you. You set the empty glasses down on a nearby shelf. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to have this?”

“Do you really want a painting of a part of my naked body?” you asked incredulously, raising your eyebrows. “I have so much better work than that. Something that will actually look nice hanging in your home. Something that people won’t ask you questions about.”

“Yes, I want a painting of a part of your naked body,” Jake insisted, reaching for your hand. “I really like your naked body. I really like you. Besides it would be nice to have something -”

“Don’t.”

“- to remember you.”

Even though you had desperately wanted to have this conversation, even though your heart threatened to beat out of the space behind your rib cage every time you thought of him, the last thing that you wanted to talk about was the after. Aside from a couple of slip ups, you’d generally done pretty well about ignoring the fact that this was all going to end.

Somehow, Jake acknowledging it made the whole thing real, and worse, stating that he wanted to remember you felt like a dagger to your heart.

“We agreed not to talk about it,” you said simply, trying to turn away from him, but he was still holding on tightly to your wrist.

Jake pulled you toward him, against his chest, and held you close. “I know,” he said, a kindness in his voice as he relinquished his hold on your wrist to brush your hair away from his face. “I know we did. But, as we’ve established, I like you, want to remember you after I leave. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Because we agreed that when this was over, whenever that might be, that we wouldn’t,” you said sternly, trying desperately to act like your heart wasn’t cracking open like a ship against the rocks. But in a good way. You didn’t want to hold back what you felt, but you did it because of what you’d both agreed to. “And now you’re trying to change the rules. That’s not fair.”

Jake pursed his lips together. “You’re right, it’s not.” You puffed your chest out, having felt like you’d won a little victory. “But I never said I was fair.” He held you a little closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. “I like you. A lot. More than I was anticipating. I don’t want to act like you don’t mean anything to me. You do. I’m not going to forget you when this is over. How could I?”

“I don’t want to talk about the expiration date,” you murmured, a little breathless. Jake was leaning in closer to you, his nose bumping against yours. “We have right now. We’ll worry about later when we get there.”

It was easy enough to say. You had been worrying about later since yours and Jake’s first date, when he’d left your home and headed back to the base, while you had sat on the floor, his come dripping down your thighs.

You wouldn’t have changed what the two of you had for anything in the world. Even if it would inevitably be painful in a matter of weeks.

“Right now,” Jake murmured in agreement. God, he was so close. You tried to close the space between you and he pulled back a little, smirking at you with a flash of perfect, white teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Fuck, you hated him in that moment. “I kind of want to bend you over something and fuck you.”

“Jake.”

“Dress hiked up over your hips,” he continued, his hands moving down along your sides before settling on your aforementioned hips.

“Jake,” you repeated, wrapping an arm around his neck and trying to haul him closer. He still wouldn’t kiss you, and you decided that you were done playing fair. With your free hand you reached down between Jake’s legs, and grabbed his stiffening cock through his pants.

“Fuck,” he growled, hips canting forward toward your touch.

“Hike my dress up over my hips then,” you breathed, squeezing him gently through his jeans, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Raw me.”

He said nothing, and instead gave you that kiss that you had so been craving. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle, and there was the very real possibility that your teeth knocking together would result in a trip to the dentist for one of you. But you didn’t care. It was so passionate, so incredibly raw, and you lived for the intensity that he put into every kiss that he bestowed upon your waiting and eager lips.

You found yourself crowded against a wall, between two contemporary impressionist paintings, and visions of your first time together flooded back in your mind. Not one to reminisce while in the process of being ravished, you turned your attention back to what was happening in the then and now, Jake’s teeth scraping along the column of your throat. You tangled a hand in his hair, loving the feeling of the soft tendrils wrapping around your fingers, where his hair was a little longer. 

During a moment of respite, where you both needed to come up for air, you held Jake’s gaze as you hiked your dress up slowly, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and shoving them down your legs. Jake didn’t tear his eyes away from yours, but you could tell from the shift in his breathing that he wanted to. Your underwear off, you relinquished your hold on the hem of your dress and reached forward, palming Jake’s hardening cock through his jeans.

“Do you want me, love?” you rasped, and only regretted calling him love a little bit. It was a term of endearment that you used with many people, but it seemed like such a loaded word with him.

“Yes,” he gasped, still rapt as he looked into your eyes, nodding his head slowly as you began to undo his belt.

“Do you want to split my pussy open on your thick cock?” you purred, pulling the belt from its loops and tossing it onto the floor.

Jake leaned forward slightly, bracing one hand against the wall, the other against your throat. You gasped, tipping your head back slightly as he applied just the slightest bit of pressure. “Yes,” he growled, that southern drawl making your cunt pulse around nothing, his thumb smoothing over the delicate skin along the column of your throat.

Your hands trembling, you shoved the waistband of his shorts down just enough to free him. Your hand circled around his length, stroking him slowly, and you marvelled at how wet he was already, how eager he was. Whenever you were together you never doubted how much he wanted you. It was always quite apparent.

The angle was all wrong - he had several inches on you height-wise. Jake dipped his head down, claiming your mouth in one final brutal kiss, before he reluctantly pulled himself away. You whimpered, but didn’t have long to look at him questioningly, or look at him at all. He grabbed you roughly and turned you around, slamming your front against the wall. Your hands automatically went out to brace yourself, and you let out a satisfied groan.

“Not too rough?” he asked you.

“No,” you replied breathlessly. “Fuckin’ perfect …”

The only downside was that you couldn’t see him, and you loved looking at him, his face, watching as every emotion he felt, everything he thought passed over his features. At least with you. You looked back over your shoulder to find him stroking himself, and you let out a low moan, wriggling against the wall in anticipation. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he looked up and regarded you for a moment before reaching for the hem of your dress and pushing it up over your hips, just as he said that he wanted to.

“God, look at you,” Jake rumbled.

You let out a soft noise that died on your lips when he drew his hand back and cracked it hard against your exposed ass. “Oh!” you cried, forehead dropping against the wall. “Holy shit …”

“Okay?” he asked with some trepidation.

You appreciated him asking, but it took you a few moments to find the words. “Yes,” you finally replied. “I’ll - you can do whatever you want to me. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

Those had apparently been the magic words, because you heard him groan, heard the slick sound of his hand moving over his cock before he smacked your ass hard again. He hit you with such force that you felt your entire body jostle from it, could feel the ache that lingered between your legs permeating through your entire core. You pushed away from the wall, pushed back against him, cock moving between your cheeks.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, hips jerking forward, his hands settling on your hips. “Baby girl -”

“Jake, please,” you whined, wriggling against him. “Don’t - don’t make me wait.”

That was apparently the last thing that he wanted to do. One of his hands relinquished its hold on you, reaching between them to grab at the base of his cock. He shifted it so that it was nestled between your thighs, letting out a shuddering breath as it dragged against your clit, your lips.

“Fuck me,” you gasped desperately, reaching behind yourself and curling an arm around his neck, drawing them closer. His mouth immediately sought out your throat, and he nudged the collar of your jean jacket to the side with his fingers. “Hangman, give me your cock.”

You’d never called him by his callsign before, and he let out the most pathetic, devastatingly sexy sound you’d ever heard. 

He didn’t make you wait any longer, pressing his fingers along his length and guiding it into your wet and waiting cunt. You both gasped, relieved, and seemingly melted against one another as he began to press inside. Jake’s hands sought your breasts, squeezing them gently through the fabric of your dress, your bra, a low moan echoing off the walls of the art gallery as he sunk deeper inside of you.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he moaned as you pressed back against him. “Baby girl … oh my god.”

You, in that moment, felt so incredibly powerful. You felt used, like a plaything for little more than his pleasure. But the way that he filled you, worshipped your body with every touch, every kiss, every shift of his hips let you know the truth - you were cherished, you were ultimately the one in control. You could bend him to your every whim, and he would go willingly. 

You whined and gasped as he filled you, and when his hips met your ass and he couldn’t move any deeper inside of you, you made a small, frustrated sound. You would’ve gladly taken more of him if there were more to take - and he certainly wasn’t lacking.

Swaying your hips, you tipped your head back against his shoulder, your own hands settling over his, encouraging him to grab your breasts harder. “Hangman,” you murmured breathlessly. “Fuck me. Split me open, love.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he moaned, peppering your face and throat with desperate, messy kisses.

“Why would I do that?” you asked with a breathless smile, turning your head slightly so that you could get one of those kisses on your lips. 

After taking a moment to get accustomed to the feeling of being inside you, of finding the position that made you cry out the most, Jake began to move. Slowly at first, but then in earnest, his hands coming to settle on your hips once more. He guided you along him as he moved, his hips snapping forward and meeting your ass again and again, the deliciously improper smacking sound filling the gallery.

Christ, how you wanted to see him.

“Jake,” you whimpered as he fucked you with abandon. “Love, I can’t - let me - I want to see you.”

He seemed only too happy to oblige, and though he reluctantly pulled out of you (you both let out mournful sounds), he quickly rectified it by manhandling you until you were facing him. Your eyes wide and startled, you barely had a moment to react, to adjust, before he was swooping in and kissing you, pushing you back against the wall. You lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip, and he groaned something against your mouth about you being so flexible, and you smiled. You ground your hips against him, and he bucked against you, growling as his tongue delved into your mouth.

“Put it - put it back in,” you whimpered, arching against him, draping your arms over his shoulders. The angle was still all wrong, and for the first time in a very long while you hated how short you were compared to him. “Jake,” you whined, frustrated, head thumping back against the wall.

You had no idea what had gotten into you that night, but you felt all manner of things all at once. You could scarcely remember a time when you had wanted anyone but Jake, despite the fact that he’d only come into your life a few weeks previous. Your heart ached from how strongly that you felt for him, and from the inevitable end of your relationship. You were so overjoyed, while simultaneously being absolutely gutted.

“Sweetheart,” Jake murmured, pressing his mouth along the curve of your jaw. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

One of his hands moved under the thigh of the leg you had up over his hip, while the other traced idle patterns on your other leg. You whimpered quietly, looking into his green eyes as he searched your face for a moment. You didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was you wanted to give it to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, as if he’d never said it to you before. He had, that night of your first date, but your heart felt full from hearing it again.

“So are you,” you responded in kind, and Jake smiled and bit at his lip.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he murmured. “A little tighter than you already are.” You did as instructed, looking at him quizzically. “Hold on.”

You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was doing. He hooked his arm under the back of your knee against his hip, and then crouched down, doing the same with the other leg, hoisting you up off the floor. You let out a startled noise and held onto him tighter, your hand fisted the collar of his shirt in your hand.

“Jake,” you gasped.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing his face against your throat for a moment.

Jake pushed you back up against the wall, using that as leverage to hoist you a little higher. You untangled one of your arms from being wrapped around him and reached down between the two of you, grabbing his cock and guiding the tip inside of yourself. Gravity took care of the rest.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, eyebrows furrowing as you looked down to watch Jake’s cock slipping inside. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

At that point, Jake seemed to be beyond even four letter, single syllable words, and simply pressed his mouth against your throat, alternating between breathing harshly and moaning, delicious sounds coming from that you hadn’t been aware he was capable of making.

You wriggled, attempting to move yourself up and down along Jake’s cock, using his shoulders as leverage. You were able to move slightly, but mostly it was left up to gravity, and Jake’s arms lifting you. He was so strong, but you were sure that he couldn’t keep that up for long. Thankfully, the angle was fucking perfect and he wouldn’t have to.

“Jake,” you gasped, tangling one hand in his hair and tugging. He moved shallowly, the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit. You wouldn’t last. “Jake!”

He gasped your name in turn, tongue darting out to taste your skin, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. “I’m - I’m coming. Come with me. Sweetheart, please -”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, his pleas and the way he stretched you open, hit all of the sweetest spots inside you ensuring that you came tumbling along with him. Jake was inelegant as he came - grunting and gasping and twitching against you, and it only spurred your own orgasm on further, your entire body trembling with the force of it. It rocked you to your core so hard that when you closed your eyes for a moment you saw the brightest of stars.

Gingerly, you attempted to lower your legs, but your feet still didn’t touch the floor. You could feel his entire body quaking against you, and he crouched slightly to pull his cock out of you, ease you onto the floor, still breathing hard, still making soft sounds against your skin. He seemed reluctant to pull away from the warmth of your throat.

“Fuck,” you gasped, tipping your head back against the wall, your fingers gently scratching at his scalp. “Jake …”

You had said little else for several minutes. They seemed to be the best two words, at least for the moment. They were good words. They were undoubtedly your favourites.

Jake leaned his forehead against yours, and you traded ragged breaths as you attempted to regain any semblance of composure. You didn’t know how the rest of the evening was likely to shake out, but you hoped that it didn’t include being upright for any length of time, as you felt you were barely capable then of standing without assistance.

He pulled away from you, and you were about to tighten your grip on his hair, not wanting him to go anywhere, but he began to slowly sink to his knees. There was a question that died on your lips as he lifted the hem of your dress, which you took a hold of in your hands and hiked up over your thighs as you watched him. Hands settling on your thighs, Jake leaned in and licked the sensitive bundle of nerves at your center. You cried out, relinquishing your hold on your dress with at least one hand, which you tangled into his soft, mused hair once more.

Without a word, he tilted his head to the side and began to lick into you and it was through a haze that you realized that he was licking his own come out of you. 

You may have come again from the sheer knowledge of that alone.

“Oh,” you gasped, watching him intently. “Oh god. Fuckin’ ... Jake.”

He moaned against you like it was the sweetest thing that he’d ever tasted, his own release mixed with yours. And you didn't doubt for a moment that he thought just that. Jake ate your pussy like it was a goddamn honour.

“You … holy fuck,” you purred, fingers carding gently through his hair.

You spread your legs a little wider, Jake’s tongue probing your cunt, as if he didn’t want to lose a single drop. He was positively filthy, and looked so incredibly debauched on his knees in front of you, neck craned, brow furrowed in concentration. He opened his eyes to look up at you, and you shuddered under the heat and intensity of his gaze. When Jake deemed you sufficiently clean, he drew back, licking at his lips and smoothing a hand over his face, his eyes still locked with yours.

“I …” You found that you couldn’t speak, and instead let go of your dress, letting it tumble over your thighs. Your now free hand joined the other in Jake’s hair, the both of them sweeping down over his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “Wow.”

Jake chuckled, turning his head and pressing a kiss to one of your palms. “Yes, darlin’. Wow.”

/end.

[rainisawriter]

hihi! can i request for tsukasa (h&l) with a jealous reader, like tsukasa has been receiving gifts from girls, and reader gets insecure bc she couldn't give him a gift. but, one day, reader finally gives tsukasa a gift and tells him how she felt insecure and then tsukasa just hugs her and tells her that she doesn't need to give her gifts bc (author, you continue:) )

(sorry for my bad english😓)

A Gift for You (Tsukasa)

Word Count: 3,581

Genre: Angst, fluff

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, I appreciate it! ^-^)/ Sorry it took me so long to get this out. I hope you enjoy it and, hopefully, it's what you were looking for~ Your English is fine, by the way, don't even worry~

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You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Tsukasa. Despite being a delinquent, he was one of the prettiest, kindest boys you've ever met and you weren't the only one who felt that way. Girls were always fawning over him, staring shamelessly as he passed. Hell, even some guys couldn't help staring at him.

To your credit, it didn't bother you for a long time. It wasn't until the two of you were in your senior year of high school that it started to chip away at your confidence. The girls approaching him were so pretty, bringing him different gifts every time he headed to or from school. There was one in particular that seemed hell-bent on getting his attention and she just happened to be the most beautiful girl you've ever seen.

You often found yourself picturing them together and you hated how perfect they looked. In your mind, she would look a lot better hanging off his arm than you did. Besides, she was rich and could afford to bring him expensive gifts and baked goods. Your family didn't have a lot of money so you couldn't afford to buy him anything despite wanting to.

It was honestly frustrating.

Did she know that he was dating someone? You didn't want to bother him with something like this so you decided to take things into your own hands. You left school early one day, hoping to catch her before she could approach Tsukasa again. Maybe if you cleared things up and told her that he was taken, she would stop giving him gifts and waiting for him every day.

There she was, leaning against a wooden fence with her phone in her hand. A plastic bag hung from her arm and you could see the top of a red ribbon sticking out of the top - a present, no doubt. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before approaching her with a kind smile.

"Excuse me?"

She glanced up, sent you a disinterested look, and returned to her phone.

Despite finding this to be quite rude, you kept your tone friendly. "Are you waiting for Tsukasa-kun?"

Her eyes narrowed at you as she straightened her back. "Yeah, so what?"

"Well, I just thought you should know he's seeing someone."

"So?" she quirked a brow, hand on her hip. "If he's accepting my gifts, clearly he isn't happy with his girlfriend. I bet she can't even afford to buy him anything he deserves."

You visibly winced at the comment, feeling as if her words were arrows piercing your skin.

"Oh my god, it's you, isn't it?" She smirked, looking you up and down. "No wonder he's seeking attention in other girls."

"Tsu-kun is too nice to flat-out reject someone," you told her, doing your best not to let her words get to you.

She giggled loudly, bringing a manicured hand to her mouth. "Oh, honey, is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night? I bet he's only with you because he feels sorry for you! You must know that, right? If you really care about him, you should let him go so he can be with someone who actually deserves him."

Before you could even reply, she turned on her heel and walked away, flipping her wavy hair over her shoulder. You swallowed hard, unable to move from where you stood. Was she right? Was Tsukasa only dating you because he felt sorry for you?

You felt as if you were at risk of losing him. After all, what kind of partner were you if you couldn't even give him a simple gift? Your fists clenched at your sides, determination burning in your eyes.

━━━━━━༻❀༺━━━━━━

"Damn it, you won again!" Fujio groaned, tossing his cards onto the table. He and the rest of his faction were sitting on the roof of Oya High.

Jamuo grinned, wrapping his arms around the stack of snacks and pulling them closer. "Thank you, Fujio-san!"

"Tsukasa~" Fujio pouted at his best friend as if he could somehow fix the problem.

The blonde shrugged from his place on the couch, one arm slung over the back and the other resting over your shoulders. "I told you not to go all in."

His eyes fell on you next and you laughed.

"Tsu-kun did tell you. You should have listened."

"I want to go again!" he declared, eyes narrowed in determination. "All in, Jamuo!"

The shorter boy pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking his head, a grin on his lips. "I don't wanna!"

"Oh, come on! I'll definitely win this time!"

"I'm not taking that chance. These snacks are mine!"

Tsukasa shook his head as the two continued arguing, a smile tugging at his lips. Your eyes fell on him and you also smiled, feeling your heart skip a beat as it did every time you looked at him. The sun was beaming down on him, making it appear as if he were surrounded by a soft glow. It had been a few weeks since your confrontation with that girl, but her words often replayed inside your head.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you tugged it out, quickly turning off the alarm you had set. It was time for you to leave but it was always hard coming up with an excuse that your boyfriend would believe. He was frustratingly perceptive, usually able to pick up when he was being lied to. Not only that, but he was also quite protective over you and he didn't like you going around on your own.

You cleared your throat before standing up from the couch, offering your friends a smile. "I need to get going. I'll see you guys later."

"Bye," smiled Jamuo, offering you a small wave.

"Take care!" Fujio smiled at you before attempting to take one of the snacks, his hand being smacked by Jamuo. "So mean!"

Tsukasa stood up without hesitation. "I'll walk you home."

"No need," you replied quickly, smiling reassuringly at him when he furrowed his brow. "I'm meeting up with my cousin."

"I can still walk you there."

"It's okay, really. You need to stay here and keep Fujio from losing his mind over his loss," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Tsukasa observed you for a moment, lips pursed and brow furrowed as he tried to determine what was going on inside your mind. You've been acting strange for a couple of weeks now and he wasn't sure why. Every time he asked you about it, you told him that everything was fine. He knew it wasn't, but he couldn't force you to talk to him. All he could do was let you know that he was here for you and wait until you were ready to talk.

"Alright," he finally replied, cupping your face so he could bring you closer. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise."

"And if anything happens, you'll call me?"

"I will."

"Good." Tsukasa closed the distance, kissing you gently. "I love you."

Those three words were enough to steal the breath from your lungs, leaving you feeling giddy.

I bet he's only with you because he feels sorry for you!

The words echoed in your head like a mantra, followed by her high-pitched laughter that sucked every ounce of happiness from you. Your smile faltered and you knew that he had noticed it. Before he could question it, you pulled away from him and hurried toward the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest.

'If he wasn't suspicious before, he has to be now!' You cursed under your breath. When you reached the courtyard, you could feel eyes on you and knew it was Tsukasa watching you. As badly as you wanted to turn and smile up at him, you resisted the urge and hurried away from the school.

After the interaction with that girl, you decided that you were going to get a job and save up to buy Tsukasa a gift that would blow all of hers out of the water. With his birthday right around the corner, you were determined to make it one he would never forget. In truth, you hadn't been lying to him because you were meeting your cousin - he was the one who got you the job and he also worked there with you.

You tugged open the door of the bakery, the smell of freshly baked brownies wafting across your nose. Your cousin, Taka, was wiping down the counter, smiling when he noticed you.

"Hey, you ready for the afternoon rush?"

"Not even a little bit," you chuckled, heading into the back so you could put your things away and grab an apron. After washing your hands, you returned to the front just as a crowd of people approached. For the most part, it went perfectly fine, excluding the fact that you didn't get more than a few seconds to breathe. The place was packed, people talking loudly as they waited for their order.

Your cousin nudged you, holding two lattes. "Can you take this to table five?"

"Sure." You carefully took the cups from him focusing on where you were going rather than who was sitting at said table. "Two lattes for Maki-san?"

"Oh my god, it's you."

You glanced up, instantly feeling your heart sink into your stomach. It was her, the girl that insisted on taking Tsukasa from you. She was there with her friend who was just as pretty as she was. Your jaw clenched as you carefully set the cups on the table. "Can I get you anything else?"

She snickered in amusement. "Let me guess, you got this job so you can afford to buy Kasa-kun a gift, right?"

Kasa-kun? Your brow furrowed. No way was she close enough to call him by a nickname.

"You could work here for the rest of your life and still never have enough to give him what I do. Oh and look, it's time for me to give him my gift again!" Maki stood up, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she picked up the bag containing his gift. She sent you a smirk before purposefully knocking over the drink, the lid popping off and the liquid inside spilling out onto the table. "You shouldn't be so clumsy!"

You sent her a deadpan look, well aware of everyone's attention now on you.

She shoulder-checked you as she walked by, her friend close behind.

"I hate her," you muttered under your breath, glaring at the spilled latte.

"Oi, what are you doing?" snapped your managed with a scowl. "Clean that up, now!"

You bowed to him in apology before rushing to clean up the mess she had made.

━━━━━━༻❀༺━━━━━━

You bit your lip as you walked around the jewelry store, scanning the items on display. Most of them were crazy expensive and way out of your price range, but they had a sale going on right now. You had been working hard and had saved up a bit of money, though you did give some of it to your parents to help pay the bills since they were struggling.

What should you get him? You weren't sure but you wanted it to be special, to be something meaningful that he could wear for a long time. Sure, you could just get him some flowers, a card, and something sweet to eat, but those things won't last. They also didn't feel very meaningful to you because of how common they were.

As you scanned the items within the glass case, your eyes landed on a bracelet sitting at the back. It was beautiful. It looked to be made of black pearls with silver crowns and blue pearls at each end. In the center was a silver lion head. It immediately made you think of Tsukasa because of the time Murayama-san had called him a sleeping lion. You thought the term was fitting because he was just as majestic and strong as one. Would he appreciate such a gift or be annoyed by it?

"It's a beautiful bracelet, isn't it?"

You looked up in surprise at the woman standing on the other side of the counter, a friendly smile on her lips. Her name tag read, 'Yuki.' "Yes, it's quite beautiful. Are those pearls?"

She shook her head. "No, they're made of black tourmaline. It's said that these stones work as a bodyguard to shield their wearer from harm, strengthening their immune system and helping them find relief from discomfort. It keeps your chakras balanced and helps to soak up negative energies."

Your eyes widened at her words. That sounds perfect for him, given how much danger he always puts himself in. "And the blue ones?"

"Blue agate. It's excellent for reducing anxiety, despair, and stress which also aids in the healing of one's body, mind, and spirit. As for the lion, it exudes charisma and courage. This bracelet is designed to help you channel your inner lion no matter what situation you find yourself in."

You bit your lip, unsure if you believed in what she was telling you. It sounded too good to be true and, in your experience, such things rarely turned out well. Did you really have anything to lose, though? If it didn't work as she described, it was still a beautiful piece of jewelry to adorn his wrist. And on the off chance it did work, it could really assist him with the life he's chosen to live.

"How much is it?"

"The normal price is fifty dollars, but it's currently on sale for forty."

If you bought the bracelet, you'd be dead broke which meant you wouldn't be able to treat him to dinner as you had planned. 'He can just have dinner with his family,' you decided. "I'd like to buy it, please!"

She smiled warmly at you, nodding her head before unlocking the case. "Would you like the box wrapped?"

You felt embarrassed telling her that you couldn't afford it but she seemed to sense your line of thought.

"It's no extra charge."

You almost exhaled in relief but managed to hold it back. "Yes, please!"

"Of course."

You watched her as she carefully wrapped the box in wrapping paper. She made it look so easy, doing so without tears or creases. It was pristinely wrapped, as if done by a machine rather than a human being, and she topped it off by wrapping a yellow ribbon around it.

"Thank you so much."

"I'm sure he'll love it," she told you with a smile, handing the gift over to you.

"I hope so," you replied, bowing to her politely before leaving the store.

As you approached Oya Koukou, you felt nerves dancing within you like butterflies. Would he like it? Had he seen Maki already and accepted her gift? Did she even know it was his birthday? A million questions filled your mind but you did your best to ignore them, focusing only on the task laid out before you.

When you finally reached Oya, however, you saw your boyfriend standing outside the gates and he wasn't alone. Maki stood in front of him with a gift in her hands - it was tall and rectangular in shape with a giant red bow on top. A frown tugged at your lips as your gaze fell to the small box in your own hands, no doubt much cheaper than whatever she had bought him.

You caught Maki's eye and she smirked at you, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Tsukasa's cheek. Your heart clenched painfully as you turned on your heel, quickly walking away from them. It felt stupid to feel this way, but you just felt as if you couldn't compete with her. You found yourself wondering if you were holding him back, preventing him from being in a relationship that he deserved.

Fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You didn't even have to look to know who it was, the scent of vanilla mixing with his cologne wafting across your nose. It was such a beautiful smell, one that you enjoyed deeply, but it couldn't calm your nerves at that moment.

"Hey," Tsukasa called out softly, his hand slipping down until it found its place against your own. "That wasn't what it looked like. She -"

"Really likes you," you interrupted just as softly, unable to face him. "She brings you gifts every day..."

"You knew about that?"

You nodded, lowering your head. "She's really pretty and she has money to spend on you."

"Just what are you trying to say?" his brow furrowed, hand tightening around your own.

"I'm just saying," you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. "That maybe she's a... better fit for you than I am."

"You're joking," he laughed but it lacked any sense of humor. "Is this why you've been so distant with me lately?"

"That's part of it..."

"Then what's the other part?"

You hesitated for a moment before slowly turning toward him and holding out the gift. "I've been working. Here, this is your birthday gift."

His lips parted, gaze flickering between you and the gift as he searched for the right words. "Did you... get a job to buy this?"

"It's not much. Not compared to hers." You muttered the last part under your breath. "Take it."

Instead of doing what you told him, he tugged on your hand, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around your body, one hand going to the back of your head. Your body tensed up at the sudden gesture, having not expected it, but you quickly melted in his warm embrace.

"You didn't have to do that," he told you softly. "And you definitely don't have to compete with Maki."

Your body tensed at the mention of her first name and he sensed it, increasing his hold on you in case you tried to pull away.

"She went to the same elementary school as us," he explained. "She had a massive crush on Fujio back then. She even called me ugly."

You scoffed at this, having seen pictures of him when he was a child thanks to his mom. "You were the cutest kid ever, what the hell?"

Tsukasa chuckled, finally pulling away. "Thank you, hun."

Warmth flooded you at the pet name and you cleared your throat, motioning toward the gift. "Are you gonna open it now?"

"So impatient," he hummed, carefully undoing the bow and handing it to you. He took his time with the paper as if he didn't want to tear it too badly. His brow went up when he saw the jewelry box. "Are you proposing to me?"

"Of course not!" you replied quickly, cheeks darkening at the thought of spending the rest of your life with him. "It's too big to be a ring box."

"Not if it's a big ring."

"Oh my god, Tsu-kun."

He laughed again, the sound pleasing to your ears. After what felt like ages, he finally pulled the lid off and carefully removed the bracelet from the box. He held it up, inspecting it carefully.

You bit your lip nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. "I know it's not much, but -"

"I love it."

"Eh?"

He slid it onto his wrist, eyes shimmering with love as he repeated, "I love it. Thank you so much, hun."

"Really? You really mean it?" You searched his face for any sign that he was lying but you found none.

Instead of answering you, he closed the distance, his hand resting on the side of your neck as his lips claimed your own. Your fingers curled around his shirt, tugging him closer as you returned the kiss, hoping he could feel all of the love you felt for him.

He rested his forehead against your own, a bright smile on his face. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," you breathed out, unable to stop your own smile.

"And for the record," he explained, brushing your cheek with his thumb. "I didn't want to accept her gifts but Fujio talked me into it. Her dad owns a big bakery and she always brings me sweets from there."

"Sweets?" your brow furrowed. "Not jewelry or clothes?"

"No, just sweets." He frowned, pecking your lips again. "You were really worried about this, weren't you?"

"Not at first," you admitted, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. "It wasn't until I confronted her that I started to feel... I don't know, insecure, I guess."

"What did she say to you?" his eyes darkened. "If she hurt you -"

"Nothing," you replied quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "It doesn't matter. I'm sorry for being so weird lately."

"Don't apologize. Just promise me that you'll come to me next time. If there's a problem, we'll work on it together. Okay?"

You nodded, brushing the hair away from his forehead. "I promise."

"Good. I won't accept her gifts anymore."

"Are you sure? Fujio will be sad."

"He'll get over it. Now, come here." His lips found yours again, filled with so much love that it stole your breath away.

You realized how silly you had been to let her words affect you. Tsukasa was your boyfriend and he loved you dearly. He was determined to make sure you knew that and never questioned yourself again.

[underacalicosky]

20 Question Fic Writer Tag

Yayyy! Thanks for tagging me @grapenehifics 😁 And thanks to @ineffable-snowman for tagging me too! ❤️

How many works do you have on ao3?

I only have six Obikin fics on AO3, which isn’t a lot, but I’m hoping to write more! I’ve posted fics for a different fandom that I’m no longer active in, but that was a lifetime ago and I don’t monitor those fics anymore.

2.) What's your ao3 word count? 

AO3 says 107,086. I know that’s not a lot compared to some folks, but it’s more than I thought I’d get to when I started writing again a few months ago.

3.) What fandoms do you write for? 

Right now, only Prequels/Clone Wars Star Wars, and only Obikin because they’ve taken over my brain. And mainly modern AUs, but I have couple ideas that are in the Star Wars universe.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Cruel Summer (Intern AU) - 175

Edge of Greatness (Figure skating AU) - 132

The Next Model (Top Model AU) - 125

Heartbreak Prince (Same age HS AU) - 70

In Good Hands (Hairstylist AU) - 69

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I always respond to comments! I try to respond within a few days. But yes, I love comments. I’m grateful that someone would take the time to not only read my fics, but to also leave a note or an emoji or wall of text 😭 so I try to show my appreciation by responding. Sometimes I’ll get a comment that’s really touching and I’ll reread it when I’m having a bad day. I love when I get into little side convos or hearing about headcanons in the comments!

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I’m incapable of writing anything but a happy ending for Obikin. I want so badly for them to find peace and joy together, whether that’s through lots of cuddles and sex or a platonic life-long friendship.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them? 😁 I like to end my fics in a way where they’re at a good place, and afterward they run off and have more adventures and I might not know exactly what they’re up to, but I know they’re happy.

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Not since I’ve written for the SW and Obikin fandom. Everyone here has been wonderful and encouraging and kind of feral in the most amazing way. I can’t tell you how much I love love love the positive vibes.

It wasn’t always like that in my previous fandom and I eventually left. Although, it wasn’t really hate. I started getting comments about how I wasn’t incorporating certain extreme kinks (which I didn’t know how to write), sort of suggesting that what I wrote wasn’t interesting. And there were plenty of writers who did write those kinks so it was a little baffling. I’m a firm believer that everyone should be able to read or write whatever they like without judgment or shame, but it got to the point where my confidence took a huge hit and I wasn’t having fun anymore.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do write smut! Soft, fluffy, vanilla smut where they look at each other with hearts in their eyes. If my smut were a cake, it would be funfetti.

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No, but I like putting them modern AUs so maybe the Top Model fic is kind of a crossover?

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I didn’t realize this was a thing. How do I know if a fic has been stolen?

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

A couple years after I left my previous fandom, someone reached out and asked if they could translate one of my fics into a different language. It was really heartwarming and humbling to hear that something I wrote resonated with someone enough to make them want to translate it and share it. I said yes, but I’m not sure I ever got the link to the translated version.

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I co-wrote a big bang with another author for my previous fandom. It was a lot of fun and someone made a playlist to go with our fic. We had similar writing styles, to the point that our betas got confused over who wrote which chapters.

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Probably Obikin. Their dynamic is so intriguing to me. There’s endless possibilities. Plus, the authors in this fandom are so freaking talented and creative and that fuels my love for them.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don’t have too many WIP at the moment. I only have two that have actual words, the rest are ideas that haven’t solidified yet. But I plan to finish the ones I’ve started writing.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I’m terrible at self-assessments. I like to think that I can create a feeling of longing or pining. I love a slow burn, especially a friends to lovers type relationship, and that’s where I like to live with the things I write. There’s that phase where they’re both too afraid to tell the other how they feel. But they stare longingly and wonder if the other’s thinking of them too. And maybe there’s miscommunication or an ill-conceived reason for why they can’t be together that leads to some mild angst before they confess their love and fuck all gentle and sweet.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing anything that has a complex plot or interwoven side plots. I’m very linear and simplistic. I’m always so impressed when I read something and the plot has been intricately planned and the little details tie together in the end. These are truly talented writers. Like, you should be publishing novels and getting paid. If I had more time and brain space, I’d love to try planning something more complex someday.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I’m not against it, but I can barely post anything without typos in English so I wouldn’t trust myself to include dialogue in another language.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

X-files, Mulder/Scully. I didn’t post it to gossamer. I just had it on my computer and was too scared to show it to anyone.

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

This is tough, and it’s going to be a long and rambly answer.

Definitely the fics I’ve written for Obikin are my favorites. And if I had to pick one of them, it would probably be Edge of Greatness, only because it was the first thing I posted to AO3 in about 12 years.

I started writing fics again a few months ago as a way to do something for myself because most of my life revolves around taking care of my family. I had the idea in my head for about a month before I finally dusted off my old 2008 Macbook and wrote the whole thing in about three weeks. It was such a freeing feeling to be writing again, but I still had that criticism in my head. At that time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to share it once I finished it, but I also was trying to challenge myself.

I took baby steps. I got a new AO3 account and sat on it for a week before I began uploading the first few chapters. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. My hands were shaking when I posted the first four chapters knowing that they would be out there in the world. I was convinced that no one would read them and I was okay with that because the goal I set for myself was to post and not care what other people thought. But the next morning I saw that I had kudos and comments and had a nice little cry. Some people, like @grapenehifics left comments in every chapter and I can’t put into words what that meant to me. So I’m not sure that it’s my best fic, but it holds special meaning to me and I’ll always love it for that reason.

I’m tagging anyone who writes fics and wants to share! I love reading these types of responses! ❤️

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Iron Man 2: Part Six

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Ivan (that's his name, not Whiplash) is taken to an Italian jail where Tony visits him. He wants to know why did he what he did and where he got that arc reactor while you have a secret meeting with Natasha and Fury.

"Hope you enjoyed the show," you tell Natasha. "Could have used your help."

"Not with this one. You handled it perfectly," Fury says. "Have you thought more about it?"

"I'm willing to give it a try if everyone else is. I hear you're trying to recruit Tony," you say and look at Natasha.

"I never said Tony."

"Wait, you want to take the Iron Man suit from him? Did you not watch what happened at the Senate meeting? He won't give it to you."

"He might for you."

"No, not even for me. Look, I know Tony is messy and impulsive and reckless but he invented the suit. He is Iron Man. You're not going to find anyone better to wear that suit."

"He's dying."

"She said you were working on it."

"We are. We just need to prepare ourselves in case Tony can't live up to the challenge."

"And you think Hawkeye and Black Widow can live up to the challenge?" Natasha raises an eyebrow at you but you just wink at her. "What if I say they're not a good fit?"

"Look, all I'm asking you to do is take a moment and think about the dangers Earth is in. Look how easy it was for you and Carol to come here. Earth doesn't have the right amount of protection it needs to prevent such disasters from happening. If we put together a group of remarkable people, then Earth doesn't need to worry about dying."

"Who says Earth needs protecting?"

"You and everyone else who comes in here with threats on their backs. People are going to die if we're not prepared. Now, is that what you want?"

"Who else do you have lined up for this?"

"Right now, it's just you four. We're working on someone else, but you're on a need-to-know basis with that one."

"Who is it?" Fury stares at you without answering. "Fine. I'll talk to Tony and knock some common sense into him."

"That's all I ask."

After you've left the meeting with them, the thought of Earth's safety weighs heavily on your shoulders. Fury is right. Look how easy it was for you to come here. You're not a threat to anyone that doesn't deserve it, but imagine if you had been. What would your life be like if you had stuck to Markus' plan? You can kill millions with a single thought, and that's exactly what Markus wanted to do. 

If the choice came down to it, would you be able to destroy Earth? Would you ever be put in a position to do so? The team Fury is putting together is meant to protect Earth from being that can do what you can do. What if you have to destroy it in order to protect it? Are you really going to put your life at risk to save a planet so small and meaningless compared to the rest of the galaxy? The rest of the universe? 

There are a ton of other Earth-like planets that need help. Why risk your life for this one? Markus ensured you wouldn't survive the trials but you did. He poked, prodded, electrocuted, drowned, burned, and buried you to make sure that the serum inside your body was fit for a whole army. You weren't meant to survive... but you did.

Then came the Kree and that was almost as bad as what Markus did to you. The only difference was you had Yondu to go through it with you. Oh, Yondu. Is he even alive? Is Peter? Yondu made you see that even through all the torture, there can be good.

It shouldn't be like this, but it is.

Even way before you met the Kree and Yondu when you were on foreign planets, governments wanted to use you for the powers you had, so you had to do some unspeakable things to people in order to get the information they wanted. You've been through so much shit in your lifetime, so why are you going through it all for one measly planet?

While on the plane ride back to the States, you think about the Avengers Initiative and what it could mean for you. You splash water on your face in the small airplane bathroom and dry it with a scratchy paper towel. Your reflection stares back at you in disappointment but you ignore her as you turn off the bathroom light. You're on your way back to your seat when you overhear a conversation between Tony and Pepper.

"Tony, what are you not telling me?" Pepper asks softly.

"I don't want to go home. At all. Let's cancel my birthday party and... We're in Europe. Let's go to Venice, Cipriani. Remember?" he chuckles.

"Oh, yes."

That was the time that you three went to Venice and got super drunk. Someone ended up getting naked and you're not going to say who.

"It's a great place to be healthy."

"I don't think this is the right time. We're in kind of a mess."

"Yeah, but maybe that's why it's the best time. Then we can--"

"Well, I think as the CEO I need to show up," she interrupts him.

"As CEO, you are entitled to a leave."

"A leave?"

"A company retreat," he corrects himself.

"A retreat? During a time like this?"

"Just a ride. I'm just saying to recharge our batteries and figure it all out."

"Not everybody runs on batteries Tony," she sighs.

You look around the corner to see Tony and Pepper close together. He wants something to happen between him and Pepper. You can see it in the way he looks at her and talks to her. Bucky used to look at you like that. Why are you so hung up on him? You were with him for nearly a decade. You've been with Ikaris for nine hundred years, and you're not acting like this with him. Everyone has one great love in their life, and Bucky just so happened to be yours.

You sigh, head back to your seat, and stare out the window.

Once you got back home, the first thing you do is look up who the fuck Ivan Vanko is. You and Tony sit in one of his vintage cars while Jarvis rolls through everything he knows about Anton Vanko. Jarvis whips through different news articles and websites pertaining to the man as he speaks about them.

"Query complete sir. Anton Vanko was a Soviet physicist who defected to the United States in 1963. However, he was accused of espionage and was deported in 1967. His son, Ivan, who is also a physicist, was convicted of selling Soviet-era weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan and served fifteen years in Kopeisk prison. No further records exist."

You look at Tony to see his reaction, and it's not a good one. He looks sick like death and it has everything to do with the thing in his chest.

"Tony?"

He doesn't answer you when you say his name for a second time. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rhodey enter the lab. He's not happy.

"Tony, you gotta get upstairs and get on top of this situation right now. Listen. I've been on the phone with the National Guard all day trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up your driveway, knocking down your front door, and taking these." He points to the many suits Tony's made that are standing on the far side of the lab. "They're gonna take your suits, Tony, okay? They're sick of the games. You said nobody else would possess this technology for twenty years. Well, guess what? Somebody else had it yesterday. It's not theoretical anymore." Tony doesn't answer him and Rhodey walks to the front of the car in concern. "Are you listening to me? Are you okay?"

"Let's go," he whispers. 

You get out of the car first through the passenger side door and Tony follows. As soon as he's on his own two feet, he crumbles to the ground and uses the car for support. You're by his side instantly and help him up. Things haven't gotten this bad and you're scared that he doesn't have a lot of time yet.

"Hey, man. Are you alright?" Rhodey panics.

"He needs to get to his desk," you urge.

Rhodey helps you bring Tony over to his desk. You already know what to do since this has happened before. You grab the cigar box by one of his computers and open it to reveal the palladium cores. He has five left. Tony removes the arc reactor from his chest to take out the old palladium core which is smoking and is corroded.

"Is that supposed to be smoking?" Rhodey asks.

"No," you answer and hand Tony the new core.

"If you must know, it's neutron damage. It's from the reactor wall."

"You had this in your body?" He doesn't answer. "How about the high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?"

If that "high-tech crossword puzzle" gets to his brain, then he's dead.

"Road rash," he sighs and puts the arc reactor back into his chest. He grabs the cup containing the liquid Jarvis told him to drink and takes a sip. Rhodey hasn't stopped staring at him since. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at you. You wanna do this whole lone gunslinger act and it's unnecessary. You don't have to do this alone."

"Save it, Rhodey. I've tried to tell him this but he's not listening to me," you sigh.

"Well, I wish I could believe that. I really do, but you two have got to trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I'm doing."

"It's hard to believe that when you're acting like you don't."

"I know what I'm doing," he sighs and takes another sip.

At first, Tony didn't want to have a birthday party but now he's all for it. His birthdays in the past have gotten a little out of hand, and you know this one will end in a disaster. You and Tony are in his room trying to get ready but he's staring at the arc reactor on his chest. Slinging out from all directions of the reactor is what Rhodey liked to call the high-tech crossword puzzle. It's spreading fast and you're not sure how you can get your point across to Tony who is going to die if this isn't fixed.

"You're going to die if you don't do something about this," you whisper and tap on the reactor. "Look at what it's doing to your body, Tony. You're up to eighty-nine percent. Eleven more and you're dead. How many times do I have to say it before it gets through to you?"

Someone knocks on the door and Natasha enters wearing a cheetah print dress with black spaghetti straps. She has a habit of wearing dresses that accentuate her figure. She is holding a box of expensive watches for Tony to pick. She really is taking this Natalie character seriously.

"Do you know which watch you'd like to wear tonight, Mr. Stark?"

Tony snaps back into reality and starts buttoning up his shirt. You look at Natasha and slightly shake your head to let her know it's not good.

"I'll give them a look. I should cancel the party."

"Probably."

"Yes, it's ill-timed and inappropriate," you say.

"Gold face, brown hand. The Jaeger. I'll give that a look. Bring them over," Tony changes the subject.

Natasha does as she's told and brings him the box of watches. He chooses the one he wants and leaves the room, not without another look at you. Tony stands by his dresser and stares at the watch in his hands.

"Do you love her?" you ask. His back stiffens at the question but he doesn't answer verbally. His body language does it for him. "If you plan on making this your final birthday party, then she has a right to know. By not telling her, you're disrespecting her, and I think you'd have more integrity than that."

You let him think about your words alone.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[hearthouses]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writer

Tagged by @pelopides

How many works do you have on ao3?

67. I would have more if I transferred more LJ stuff over, but I am largely embarrassed by those works.

What's your total ao3 word count?

282,047 words.

What fandoms do you write for?

I am going to list the major ones, but I dipped my toes in The Borgias, The Magicians, and Good Omens. But the ones I’ve written the most for are:

A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin

From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series

IT (Movies - Muschietti)

Supernatural (TV 2005)

The Vampire Diaries (TV)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you call my name and it feels like home (1,197 kudos)

i grow green with hope (599 kudos)

desire holds me like a knife (493 kudos)

twenty-one grams (493 kudos)

The Whispering Ghosts (Left You Out In The Cold) (433 kudos)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

The most honest answer is: I try, but sometimes my neurotic anxious parts of my brain take over and I don’t reply. As a commenter and reader, I personally don’t mind if the author doesn’t reply back because I don’t wish to be perceived, but I’m also not sure what the etiquette is anymore. Do they also want me to reply to their reply? Is this a conversation now? I think AO3 changed a lot of fandom norms and expectations because I don’t remember being this conscious of myself and comment threads were the norm. But anyway, the tl;dr of it: I try and work up the nerve and sometimes I fail, sometimes I do it months later, sorry!

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I tend to write ambiguous to hopeful endings, so this was hard to determine, so I think it is a tie between The Whispering Ghosts (Left You Out In The Cold) and Watch Your Step (You'll Need A Miracle). The former because the entire fic is bleak and the ending is essentially more of the same, while the latter is about the emotional shattering of someone post-assault.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This question is very subjective because I tend to write things that might not be considered happy for some people, but are happy to me. In a more traditional sense, twenty-one grams feels the most happy because the rest of the fic is a grueling exercise in grief and eventually Eddie is brought back to life and everyone can move forward, so the relief is palpable. But on an iddy level, my favorite happy ending is we could live forever in each other’s faces because I want Sam and Dean to have a baby and rule together in Hell forever and ever.

Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. I used to get a lot of angry comments in the From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series fandom, and recently I had a lot of disgruntled people on my most recent fic. It could be my long-term anonymous hater, but who knows.

Do you write smut?

Yes! I used to not be able to and I thought I would never be capable of it, but I feel pretty good about my smut writing skills.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I did back in the day, but it was largely Supernatural/One Tree Hill crossovers because I was sixteen and afraid to admit I shipped Sam/Dean. I do muse about crossovers from time to time because I want my faves to meet and I think a lot about how they would interact, but those stories are often low priority for me.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Apparently! Someone was reposting fics on Wattpad and one of my Richie/Eddie fics was reposted. It was deleted before I could report it myself.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

A couple! It was an interesting and flattering experience.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I can't do that because I don't speak any other languages.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, with @ladyculebras. We often do round robin experiments and exercises, and we posted devour me (if you really think that you can stomach me) because the exercise kept going and we finished the piece.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Sam/Dean is one of my longest running OTPs, so that feels like the obvious answer, but I never stop feeling feelings for my OTPs, they tend to go into hibernation until I am attacked with feelings and I spiral. Some of my OTPs I don’t write fic for, but still have an immense amount of feelings for. Right now off the top of my head, the OTPs swirling around in my brain at any given time are: Sam/Dean, Louis/Lestat (and Louis/Lestat/Claudia), Seth/Richie, Sam/Tara, Richie/Eddie (and Losers Club OT7), Quentin/Eliot, Geralt/Yennefer, Coriolanus/Lucy Gray/Serjanus, Katniss/Peeta (and Katniss/Peeta/Haymitch), Archie/Betty/Jughead/Veronica.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a huge graveyard of unfinished WIPs for fandoms past that I am sure I will never finish, so it is easier to answer that there are a few WIPs I really do want to finish some day. My exit from the IT fandom wasn’t really something I wanted to do, but needed to do for my mental health, but I hope to return and finish some fics when I have more distance. From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series is the fandom I have the most written in and I would like to finish my longer stories in the future.

What are your writing strengths?

I love writing prose and my descriptions are very lush. I also have a strong handle on emotion and using acts of intimacy to push the story forward, but also explore character. I’m good at character and relationship studies. I think I’m adept at writing hot sex scenes. I also have a flair for horror in ways I don’t often employ, but love when I get to.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I need to learn how to not get stuck in my own head and trip all over myself and my insecurities. My biggest hurdle is myself and my own mental hangups. I need to learn that it's okay to experiment and try new things and that I don’t need to please everyone, or be liked, I just need to please myself. I also need to work on not being afraid to write longer stuff and embrace that my brain has a lot of ideas that will take time to write

First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. I still have the handwritten notebook pages from when I was 11.

Favorite fic you've written?

I can’t answer this question because if I look at my fics, I will see the flaws. I will say I am proud of everything I finish because it’s often a battle of wills.

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this and hasn’t been tagged yet!

[pinkytoothlesso11]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @niemalsetwas! Thank you! This is a long one, but very interesting well rounded questions for fic writers. I'll tag: @whitherwanderyouspirit, @toodrasticallydumb, @nickelwick, @bluedaddysgirl, @megan0013 and @rosemaidenvixen. Not obligated to do this, just thought it may be fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 16! 13 of which are all Trollhunters lmao.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

542,419 words. Wow. That's a little crazy ngl.

3. What fandom's do you write for?

Mostly Trollhunters/Tales of arcadia. But I've written a oneshot for She-Ra and the Princesses of Power and one for Scrooge: A Christmas Carol (2022). And I've done a multichapter fic for Arcane: League of Legends. Probably going to do more fics for that eventually. And I have two planned for The owl house I'm really excited about!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Challenging Destiny

Heal what has been lost

A change in a moment

Heart of Stone

After the moon rises

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! In my first fic I was hesitant to the first couple of chapters, but now I make a effort as I know how awesome it is to get a reply from the author on fics I've left comments on myself. And also because sometimes I have wonderful conversations!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is a bit hard to pin down, because while a decent amount of my fics go really, really angsty, they tend to end on a slightly hopeful note. But I'd think it's either Through the Veil which while the actual end is rather uplifting, it's overshadowed by the torment all the characters have gone through or chapter 4 of my prompt collection for Stricklake month: corruption. Which is... Sad.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm well my main fics are not finished so I can't put any of them down... Er most of them end happily? I guess for the top one A change in a moment, since I also barely killed any characters in the end...

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No. Very thankfully.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Anything explicit? No. I've tentively suggested it, but not in any detail.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have not yet. One of my aforementioned Owl house fics I have planned will be a crossover, with Trollhunters, but nothing crazy.

Unless we're talking about the Arcane/Disney Tangled crossover, but that's a soft crossover, with a wholly Arcane cast of characters.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope. At least not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not to my knowledge.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No... It was going to happen at some point, but then it didn't. Which was fair, even if disappointing.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

It's Stricklake. I have loads more I like a lot, but that's the one that made me start writing fanfiction.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This isn't really applicable, I plan to finish every fic I start, but there's one that's taking longer than I like to complete, which is Heart of Stone. It's close to the finish line, I just need to push myself there.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I'm pretty good at creating snappy dialogue with plenty of banter. And that my worldbuilding is pretty damn good. Also that I'm able to consistently keep a large cast of characters IN character and balance them all. I'm also fairly good at descriptions and gore.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think sometimes I struggle with pacing, and the flow of my writing can be clunky at times. I also find filler chapters less interesting to write, even if they're important to set later things up.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I do end up doing this at one point or another in most of my fics! I use Google translate lol. I'm not ashamed. I also use italics if it's not English, with the translation in my notes at the end.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Trollhunters! The first show to get me into fandom, and fanfic and tumblr! It was the first in a lot of things.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Has to be Challenging Destiny! It's just about halfway, but the reception to it and it's faithfulness to the source, as well as the heaps of research and worldbuilding I've put into it has made it the fic I'm the most proud of. It's got a big cast of different characters to balance, which just adds to the challenge lol. But it's worth it.

[chaotic---calm]

I Have Left the Hearth that I Know is an AWESOME series (as is Scenes from a Marriage)! Also one of my firsts XiCheng fics! *bunny tries to go for a hi-five but slips and faceplants on the floor instead*

ajdhad Knowing this, I can't help but think about your fic and the parallel between it and this series, the whole political marriage (the relevance of expectations! the effects of outsiders in their marriage!), the HOW and WHY of the choices (I love how JC is the one reaching out in both stories, it says *so* much about who he is at his core), sexism and ableism (with varied degrees of attention given, but never not significant!), the contrast between the characters with power in both situations (in one LXC embracing sexuality while keeping emotional distance even while falling in love, in the other JC promising physical distance as a form of respect, eventually emphasizing their emotional connection —or lack of it), it makes me so so so excited (more than I already was!) to see where your fic will go when it comes to the Jin's actions against XiCheng (you know I'm here for the politics).

It also makes me very curious about the future smut! I Have Left the Hearth that I Know says *so* much about XiCheng using the smut for character and relationship exploration (the evolution of the characters shown through the activities they allow themselves to do, enjoy, submerge themselves into —eg: THE SHIFTING NATURE OF BOUNDARIES—! kink as a safe way to explore things that otherwise harm them!), I'm not really good at analysing that kind of text (or rather, I'm particularly bad at doing so, but I read the comments of those who can) and I absolutely look forward to what you will do with the sexual scenes knowing that you've read and enjoyed this series and it's relevance to you liking this ship (not that I'm implying your story is meant to respond to this series in any way! just saying that it's fun to compare the common points knowing it's relevance to you! but of course your fic is its own story and if it goes completely somewhere else with the characters and themes even when similarities occur —it already has with the very format!— I'm all in for it, I love it for what it already is after all).

Anyway, time to go! Bunny hugs if you want them! Bye! *hops out* 🐰💛

(context post for this ask)

*offers bunny ice pack for bonked noggin*

Those two series really are some of the most well-written, well-crafted stories I've ever read.

There are arguably some parallels between our stories, though I want to be up front now that I didn't conceive this idea and start writing it with any intention to tie it to the other stories or to take from either authors' ideas. I just love the angst and awkwardness that comes with political alliance marriage stories, issues of power imbalance, issues of trust and vulnerability, etc.

I do agree with you that JC making the first movie in both narratives is indicative of his character. He is exceptionally courageous and will do what he must for those he loves and those he must protect.

In the other stories, a large part of the initiation comes from JC as well, which makes sense given that LXC holds more power both socially and physically, so he restrains himself to ensure he doesn't do harm (and all the inner turmoil about that is delicious). In my fic, conversely, though LXC is physically stronger, JC is the one who holds social and gender power by being a sect leader and an alpha, so he's the one who holds himself back, thus leaving LXC to take most of the lead so far. And I also think it says something about their society and also LXC as a character that his physicality (at least so far) is never something that he considers as a weapon he could use against JC.

On the smut, for mine we'll just have to wait and see...and I really hope it doesn't end up disappointing given how excited you are, lol. 😅 It'll be a very long time coming, though there will be varieties of intimacy before the "big event." You are right, though, that the other story does a beautiful job establishing a blossoming relationship through sex and intimacy and kink; it's masterfully crafted and very endearing and sweet (and of course sultry and hot too, lol).

Thanks for the ask!

(My Fic)

[slumped-in-the-arms-of-fiction]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Finally getting around to this one! Thanks to @justhere4thevibez for the tag, love ❤️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

17, but the depths of LJ have a few more

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

235,247 across two fandoms

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things – specifically Hellcheer, though there are three Eddie-centric ones in there (each with a Hellcheer nod). And I used to write Gilmore Girls.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I'm gonna focus on ST as that's been my main focus for a while now.

Bruise Pristine

Two guys, a girl, and a cheerleader

Being Human

In Focus

For a good time call Mary Jane

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yep! I'm so grateful that someone took the time to comment on something I wrote, and I want them to know that! Commenting can be difficult and I like to acknowledge that and give a little kudos in return. Plus, I love engaging with fellow fandomers! As a reader, I like to let someone know I liked their fic with more than kudos if I have the spoons to do it, and I love when an author responds to me when I comment.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

While there can be angst in the ship fic I write, I generally like to give a happy ending. Some can be bittersweet, but not out and out angsty. My ships tend to be canonically tragic, so I want HEAs.

In saying that, Backpack, though short, is definitely not sweet. It's canonical so... yeah.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

As I said, I do tend towards the happier end of the scale (she says, lying through her teeth). I think my two long multi-chapter Hellcheer fics Two guys, a girl, and a cheerleader and Being Human are quite movie-happy ending. And shout out to the Gilmore Girls kind of fix-it Not Time's Fool because that was tooth-achingly sweet, especially with the follow-up Letters to a Lost Love.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nnnnooo, not really? There was one weird one who berated me for writing Literati (GG) when I had the gall to comment and enjoy a fic with a different ship, which was bizarre. Actually, the almost-hate comments tended to be in GG – people can be very cutting when it comes to Rory. The Hellcheer fandom thankfully tends to love both characters equally, and have been nothing but gracious and accepting.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Boy, do I! Try and STOP me writing it – it always sneaks in. F/M and explicit. Ventured into kink a little bit with For a good time call Mary Jane. My smut also tends to be emotionally driven, I can't do PWP.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not crossover in terms of characters from two different fandoms interacting (though there was a Supernatural/J2 done in the style of Fight Club back in the day that was WILD). But my two multi-chaps are based on other shows with ST characters kinda merged with the originals or similar storylines (New Girl and Being Human), but the supernatural elements aside in the latter neither are crazy!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I don't know how it would work but I'm open to it! I spitball a lot with lovely @justhere4thevibez and we've tossed around ideas the other has caught; my dearheart @barriss helped with d&d stuff in fic, and I thrash ideas around with my discord gremlins a lot, so the parts that appear in fic makes it feels like a collab ❤️

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Hellcheer till I die

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a ton of Hellcheer ideas in the wings – maybe not all of them will come to fruition, but everything I've actually started writing will be finished, I hope.

I do, however, have an unpublished chapter of Literati that I absolutely love, but I ran out of steam as it was going to be a big undertaking, and then I kinda left that fandom so I doubt I'll ever go back to the fic, unfortunately. Pity, coz what I wrote was 🔥 in my humble opinion LMFAO

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do snappy dialogue well – I love banter, the flow. I like to think I'm funny too, though I feel very Milhouse "my mom thinks I'm funny" when I say that. I also see things in a cinematic way – the scene, the setting, placement, lighting etc – which I think comes across in my writing. At least, I hope it translates to the page!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I suck at planning. I have an idea and I go from there and down the line I'm like "Ohhhh fuck, where was I going with this, how do I do this, WTF IS HAPPENING", and then I panic, can't write, spiral. It mostly comes good in the end (except that GG one, RIP). Self-doubt is the fic-killer.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've never written a character who speaks another language, so have thankfully avoided that pitfall, but I would ask someone who speaks the language to help out, if possible. Google Translate ain't great, but it'll do in a push for some things.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural waaaaaaaaaay back in the day. When season 1 first came out and they were still battling the yellow-eyed demon and MotW. Ahhh, good, simpler times.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I think my New Girl fic, Two guys, a girl, and a cheerleader. I had a blast seeing how the characters could blend together while still being themselves, as well as using plots from the show to make a full, coherent storyline. I'm ridiculously delighted with the d&d elements of that too – I was so happy with how the True American chapter came out, and I'm very lucky to have had Sabrina's insider knowledge for that to make it what it was ❤️

Though I had great craic writing Mary Jane... And Blood moon sex magick... and I love the Eddie-centric canon-compliant(ish) Back to the Front. Sure look, you gotta be your own biggest fan 😆

That was so much fun! I don't know who hasn't done this yet, so I'm tagging @gingertumericlemon @windowsandfeelings @watercoloredlie

[slightecho]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

I got tagged by @daydreams-and-honeybees and @halcyonhue (it won’t let me tag you and idk why! 😭)

This is gonna be very interesting and silly bc I have written much and posted little!! 🤣

TAGGING: @silvvergears if you havent done this before and…… actually idk who among my fic writing friends has or hasn’t done this one bc I’ve seen it going around a few times, so if you are a fic writer and want to do it, i’m tagging you!! 😆

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

LMFAO only 4

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

481,043 words jfc 😨

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I used to dabble in writing voltron fic years ago, and that makes up the majority of works on my ao3 but currently writing for The Owl House and I’m hoping to outnumber the Voltron fics on my account with other fandoms 😎

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lmao uhhhh since I only have 4 published, I’m just gonna say the top two tbh 😅😅😅

Ashes takes the number one, with Crowd of Thousands as my second most kudos on a fic

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes!! I love responding to comments! I want to discuss things with people reading my fics and (especially in the case of Ashes), I wanna see what my readers theories are on what’s going to happen. It’s one of my favorite parts of having people who read what I write!!

If you’ve ever left me a comment and I haven’t responded, don’t be discouraged. Sometimes I just don’t know what to say beyond a giant thanks for reading. 😅 And sometimes I won’t reply if my last reply was a teaser

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhh so if I had finished it, it WOULD have been the untitled Bungo Stray Dogs Heathers AU fic I got like 75% of the way done writing and then abandoned.

But other than that I don’t have any with an angsty ending—oh wait no ¡Viva La Gloria! is technically a published fic in my ao3 isn’t it?

Yeah it’s ¡Viva La Gloria! then lmao

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Crowd of Thousands currently.

Ashes by the time it’s done.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Haven’t yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Pls don’t send me hate I’ll cry

Criticism and critique are fine. Just don’t be mean to meeeee pls 😊

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have.

Nothing published anywhere.

I’m not very good at it

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really. I don’t really read them either tbh

I’m kind of the kid who doesn’t want their foods to touch on their plate when it comes to entire fandoms in fics it’s just not my thing

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not yet, or at least not to my knowledge.

Knocking on wood now

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Somewhat?

The planned Elowyn piece I have is something my girlfriend and I came up with together. So I have co-authored concepts

The first two or three chapter of Ashes, besides the prologue, there was a LOT taken from the discord RP that I’d originally come up with the plot of Ashes for. I had permission from that friend to use them. And I heavily, HEAVILY took out and then rewrote their portions (namely the Raine parts of the chapters “Moving Day” and “Hexside” bc the rest at the time were my characters). Their original writing has been scrubbed and a lot of Raine’s character and story arc has transformed into something else entirely. Pretty much all that remains is that they were the one who came up with the idea that Raine was Manny’s sibling. If they read it, they could probably still see the bones of what they wrote if they squint. But by the time Luz hits Eda with the door in “Hexside,” they’d already moved on from the rp. So it was very easy to rewrite around their parts and just reuse the posts I that I had written for those chapters.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

That’s too hard a question how dare you

I like too many ships

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh jeez.

Either the untitled Bungo Stray Dogs Heathers AU that was never posted anywhere, or The First Golden Guard.

Pretty much The First Golden Guard i have just notes scribbled out of the plot, what I think the first chapter is, and some various bits of dialogue from different moments in the fic. But then I started writing Ashes and that took over my life, and now I really want to write The Caleb Files, and the bonus stuff that got cut from Ashes. Plus the Elowyn fic. so I just don’t know if it will ever get written now

16. What are your writing strengths?

Description and voice.

I really love getting a little flowery when describing action or setting while writing. And in the case of setting in particular, I think I have a more natural ability.

I also really strive to make sure each character’s own unique way of talking comes through in their dialogue. Maybe not always when the narration makes the reader privy to their thoughts and emotions, but at the very least, their dialogue does.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Bro just cannot stop yapping!!

I actually genuinely do believe my greatest weakness is my inability to shut up sometimes. I’m sure if I go back and reread Ashes from the beginning, I’ve said the same shit multiple times.

Also sometimes I just get repetitive!! And I use certain colloquialisms like “just,” “after all,” and “as if” FAR too often.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

sigh.

I am a latinx person who lived through the VLD fandom… I have a LOT of opinions… and I have seen some bad Spanish dialogue written by non-Spanish speakers… the kind of shit that stands out to even me, when I have little verbal fluency.

Here’s the thing: I am not AGAINST anyone writing another language of dialogue into their fics. I actually do think it’s a good thing.

HOWEVER!!!

If you are a person who only speaks one language—if you’re a person who kind of doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I say ‘code switching’ or only understands the basic definition of code switching—I am BEGGING you to try and have someone with more experience in that language than you to proofread those dialogue sections.

The amount of times I’ve seen weird moments where the code switching didn’t make logical or emotional sense for the character beyond the author’s “I want to include Spanish here” is innumerable. And that’s not to say code switching needs to have a deep, profound reason all the time—sometimes code switching happens bc there’s no word or phrase in one language that directly translates from the concept or emotion you know how to describe in another! But from what I’ve found, there are a lot of people who understand code switching in concept (and that it’s important for representation) but not in practice bc they simply have no firsthand experience with it. I don’t blame them, though! It’s a hard thing to understand on description alone! Unless you’ve experienced it before, I don’t think it’s something you can fully comprehend. And it can stand out. You can even think you’ve done it right on technicality, but it falls flat.

A tiktok in how to spot AI images I once saw said “AI understands that a mirror, or stairs, or chair legs have to be there there, but it doesn’t understand why it functionally exists or what purpose it serves” and therefore it makes mistakes by adding twelve stairs on the right and fourteen on the left, or five legs on two chairs that are somehow sharing them, or mirrors won’t show the correct items reflected back. I’ve seen many well-meaning fic writers (and published authors!!!) do the exact same thing with language switching. They understand that it should be there, but not functionally why.

Also a basic “don’t rely on google translate” here….. but also a less basic one: different cultures of a shared language are gonna have different turns of phrase and different slang. I’ve also seen a lot of fics that have Lance (a Cuban character) using Mexican slang or words. That’s always awkward.

There’s just a lot. I could go on about this forever but I think I pretty much covered it all.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ever?! Lmfao Harry Potter when I was a young teen. I didn’t understand what I was doing at all and only did it because my older friend who knew I liked writing my original stories at the time said that I should try writing fic.

I didn’t even have a plot or anything. I just genuinely thiugh fanfic was writing your little self insert OCs and perpetually playing with them in a dollhouse made of your favorite thing 🤡🤡🤡

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Wholly and completely, without a shadow of a doubt

Ashes

It’s genuinely the first fic I’ve ever written where I have actually wondered if I was better off writing it as an original story and going the publishing route. Unfortunately for future me and fortunately for you all, I’m way too attached to the characters as their original names and incarnations to do that 🤣

It’s also the first fic I’ve ever written where I went into it already knowing every piece of the puzzle and having all the clues laid out to perfectly set them up ahead of time. I’m very proud of that and I long for the day where someone rereads Ashes after it’s over and discovers the tiny things in the extremely early chapters that were hints towards the end.

[writingordinaryrealities]

20 Questions

I got tagged by @dogstarblues !

How many works do you have on ao3?

... Let me just open my cheat sheet... 86 works

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

576,230 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now it's pretty much just Greenwing and Dart, though I do have a pair of Good Omens works coming for an event. I've also written for Yuri on Ice, Harry Potter, MDZS, The Untamed, the Chantiverse, Little Women, and Lays of the Hearthfire.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Sun Sets like a Whispered Regret

Facing the Dust and Wind

Rosie Lea (Have a Cup of Tea)

To Break Free from the Night

To Teach a Sorrow to Speak

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do. Almost always. When I was just getting brave enough to leave comments (and a trace of what I was reading on ao3!) @ili-here responded to a couple of comments I had left and had a whole little conversation with me, and it made me feel so much braver about leaving comments that I try to pass that forward, even though I don't think my responses are always as thoughtful and interested

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I... I don't write much angsty fic. I think maybe the Little Women one? In that nothing was really resolved in it

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

See, this is an issue for the opposite reason. They're all happy endings. I think maybe merging our lives here in their established frame?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

LOL no. I'm not a big enough author for that

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do sometimes. What kind? What does that mean? I... kinky? Sometimes? Idk, sometimes they're laughing and sometimes they're crying and sometimes it's just foreplay to the cuddling.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've ever written?

I've written a couple. I think the one that sticks out most in my head is actually the MDZS/Untamed thing, which was not a true crossover but a "MDZS watches the Untamed" thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Again, I think there are advantages to being a small out-of-the-way author in a small out-of-the-way fandom.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet! Maybe someday

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! It's lots of fun. I live in hope of another

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Whichever one I'm writing currently. At the moment that's Jullanar Ragnor/Jullanar Maebh.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

This moment, worth keeping. I hate to leave it unfinished, because I know how I wanted it to end, but I no longer have netflix and I'm mostly out of the fandom, and I'm busier than I used to be too. I really hate leaving it though

16. What are your writing strengths?

Humor and emotion

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description and depth

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I love reading it when it's done well--there are some absolutely fantastic Yuri on Ice fics that do it really well--but I could not do it well

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The first one I posted for was YoI, but the first one I wrote for was Swallows and Amazons. I did not know what fanfiction was, but I did believe that Nancy Blackett should have horses.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Just Rainbows Dreaming We're Human. I'm honestly extremely proud of it

I'm tagging anyone else who wants to play, and also @arafinwes @alullabytoleaveby @lindsayraindrops and @marezelle

[jjungkooksthighs]

I really appreciate you taking the time to write this, anon. I have struggled writing updates for this story because of the lack of confidence that came with negative feedback surrounding the diction in the earlier chapters of the story, but it is comments like these that put those shattered pieces of my confidence back together.

I'm sorry, I know this isn't my ask that you've replied to. But I couldn't help but vent.

Negative feedback? Don't you worry about that, darling. The way you write is absolutely gorgeous. It makes me feel all that the characters feel. It helps me escape the stress. And most of all, the idea of love in COC is so.. raw. So passionate. So strong! You've portrayed the characters and their emotions in delightfully well! It's very very special.. the way you write. It's poetry. Art that must be out there in the form a printed book, I feel. It would definitely win over millions of hearts. The way you string together words is what inspired me to start writing. Keep up the wonderful work and don't let anything snuff that confidence down. (if you get the reference 😏)

With love,

~ Lily ♡

Thank you, Lily. You have been a constant supporter of this story (and of its writer), so it really is very heartwarming to read your thoughts on my work. Especially since you’ve read it as much as you have. (I remember your asks about that.)

Sometimes I sit and think about just scrapping the story, but then there are people like you that send your support my way be it through asks or comments on my chapters/posts regarding my writing, and it really does make me rethink that idea.

People have left some nasty responses to my work. It’s never a good feeling to read that. It shatters what little confidence I do have.

But where this darkness, there is also light. Where I have gotten mean and borderline inappropriate responses to my work, I have also gotten positive and kind feedback. It is that which helps rebuild my confidence.

Well, that, and changing my writing style.

I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I just have been writing for so much of my life that I don’t know where I’d be without it. COC, Undercurrent, YFY, QOTS… those stories got me through some rough times, and one of them I hope to publish one day. (Not COC, lol.)

It’s hard to feel like I would ever succeed as an established author if I did attempt to do something like that. Especially when I’ve received disrespectful comments like some that I have had on COC.

Still, my stories are like my children. It takes a lot to raise them from simple concepts to entire entities that exist apart from me and develop with me their to guide them.

I’m glad that one of them you have come to love.