#like little multi-part things i will sometimes specifically continue in asks

[willowser]

Random question but how many asks do u get on average? I’m asking a bunch of other blogs too

so—i'm not going to answer this question !! quite simply bc i think that, in the era we're in within our fandom and in our community and in our niche, i think that numbers have the potential to cause more grief than good, and on the off-chance that someone sees a number in our little corner here and ever uses it as a comparison to their little space—i would be devastated.

but !! i do want to take the time to say that i try to answer every ask i get with similar levels of enthusiasm, and if i haven't answered your question and you know that it sent—i am coming !!! i am on the way !!! i want to chat with you about your ideas !! but it just takes me a lil more time bc i want to make sure i'm returning the effort that you gave me 🩷 and a lot of times, i like to keep some of the sweet things yall take the time to say to me—to myself ! before i share them with everyone 🩷 so if i haven't responded yet, i'm holding your hand in mine !! and thinking of what to say 😌

[nebulousfishgills]

Returning the favor for the writing asks! (And you're right, there's SO MANY good ones!)

1, 3, 11, 13, 17, 20, 35, 54, 55, and 74 please!

I see ten numbers so we're just gonna assume this should in theory be split into ten asks but it's gonna be one doctorate thesis length post so be warned as usual and here we go!

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

See already I have a cop out answer ready because I like doing both! A good portion of my multi chaptered fics started out as one shots, actually. A Song of Stars and Magic started as an alternative look at how The Avengers could have ended that spun way way way too out of control. 29 chapters and two plus years of nitpicking and adding and writing later...

As we know Diplopia started as a one shot before it, too, spun out of control and got six seasons and a movie. The Weirdo From Saint Valentina's is gonna get an additional three chapters and that started as a one shot (I'm very excited to show people what I have planned for that can of worms).

But, you know, Facade was always a longfic. I never finished it but I at least stopped at a decent enough stopping point. One could believe that's how I chose to end it if a) I didn't outright say I never finished it and b) it's not actually marked as incomplete on AO3. Time Variance Detected was a long fic by design because of the episodic chapters. One episode of the series was one chapter and that trend will continue with it's eventual sequel.

His Tenebris Moenibus was always a longfic. It's gonna have a sequel once season 5 comes out. It's kind of exciting but a little nervewracking that part of the anticipation that comes with Stranger Things' finale is also me being able to find out how Emily's story is going to end. I'm on the same page as my readers as of now. None of us knows how that will go and it's exciting and... oh good god it's also fucking terrifying.

But I love writing my small, stand alone one shots. Little nuggets of story. Ways to explore alternative ideas and plot bunnies that are too big for a simple idea but (in some cases, at least) are too small for a full, dedicated fic.

So... they kind of go hand in hand, really. I love the planning and complexity a longfic requires, but I love the bite sized freedom one-shots give. But one shots with me sometimes turn into longfics. So... one shots, I suppose, if you put a gun to my head and made me choose.

3) Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

It varies from project to project. Nine times out of ten, though, it starts out as one of my elaborate daydreams. I have to mentally plan everything at the very least before I write even if I don't write down those plans or outlines all the time. The ideas come in bursts, sometimes with listening to music, sometimes when watching a piece of media, sometimes with the Holy Grail of idea generation: the shower.

Most of any kind of "creative process" with my fics happens mentally. Sometimes I just get so many ideas for a fic that I have to make a bullet pointed plan or an outline. I have a server on discord that just has me in it where I send things to myself or write notes. It's just an alternative for a notes app, really. I have pages of ideas and outlines there. I remember doing this for Necrosis specifically when that last large piece of the narrative puzzle just came to me and then I got so excited I wrote out an outline I still continue to follow.

I wouldn't really go as far to say I'm a planner, though. Most of my fics are more spur of the moment.

Sometimes I have to research as well. I have wikis bookmarked on my laptop in a folder called "The Sacred Texts." The most notable time this happened was with Diplopia and I wanted to better understand these characters before I wrote about them... and now I know too much, go figure.

Ultimately it's kind of chaotic is what it boils down to. I get an idea, sometimes I plan it, sometimes I research it, and then I just kinda... let my brain do what she do.

11) Link your three favorite fics right now

In no particular order:

Necrosis

His Tenebris Moenibus

Instinct (largely because it's my highest kudo'd fic, an unexpected cult classic)

13) What's a common writing tip you almost always follow?

Okay, so I don't know if this is exactly a common tip, but it is THE end all be all writing advice I've ever gotten. A few years ago I watched a virtual book discussion for one of my favorite authors, Christopher Paolini since he had just released a new book ("To Sleep in A Sea of Stars").

Side note he had actually given us a sneak peek of the book a couple years before that when I went to an in person book signing of his when he released a coloring book for his Eragon series that I still have, actually, it's very cool.

Anyways, one piece of advice he gave was to plan out exactly what you want to write in your head throughout the day. So, you know, come up with dialogue scenes when you're eating lunch or how to start your story/chapter's opening paragraphs in the car etc. And then once it's "writing time" you don't have to waste "writing time" coming up with ideas right then, you just need to transcribe your thoughts from the day and then work from there.

I do it for every single piece of writing I put out, even in micro ways. Sometimes I get impulsive and post one shots I wrote in like, two hours, but the hour or so before that, I was laying in bed with music going, eyes closed just organizing and basically writing in my head. It helps me weed through my thoughts prior and saves me a lot of time in the long run.

Also because I fixate on my fics, I'm constantly thinking about them anyways so this advice is just how my brain operates anyways.

17) What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (Maybe a lack of inspiration or writer's block)

This happens pretty frequently. It's more like I have the motivation to write but I can't physically bring myself to actually type it out. Typically what I do is I just let it happen. If I'm de-motivated I won't be writing at my best and the product won't be at the level I would want it to be at. The dialogue and scene pacing would get clunky and then it just feels stiff. I'll eventually get my motivation back.

But in the meantime I'm doing more planning (daydreaming), I'm looking at pinterest for ideas, I have music going, whatever I need to help me not only get my motivation/will to write back, but with more ideas and inspiration than I had in the first place. More often than not I just need to find that one perfect idea that hypes me up enough to finish the chapter/one shot/what have you.

It was a huge help with Necrosis in particular since some of the filler chapters I trudged to get through, but I was motivated by the chapters that set up that big twist at the end or even those chapters themselves. That's another idea, I sometimes write the scenes I'm excited for ahead of time because I'd rather take advantage of that motivation rather than let it die and then leave more work in the future. I had those three particular chapters of Necrosis all completely done, and that's three whole chapters of work I was done with.

Basically, to sum up: Accept the fact that there will be times you want to write but can't. Find the time in between to come up with more ideas. Then, if you get motivation but for something other than that next chapter you need to write, just write that something else. Means less work in the future and it leaves room to experiment.

20) Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/Expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Well, corruption arcs, obviously. I'm a sucker for redemption arcs, of course, but there's something so cathartic about having a character arc involve going batshit rather than having a come to Jesus moment. But at the same time, usually my corruption arcs happen because of outside forces.

I like to take an optimistic approach to life, that nobody's born evil, it's their choices and environments that can fuck everything up. My characters never start out as evil, but typically the longer they have negative influences, the more it may seem like it. Like the juxtaposition between Olivia's downfall in SoSaM and Emily's spiral downwards.

We know something went wrong to cause Olivia to do horrible things, and it wasn't her fault. So there's a bit of space to sympathize with her because likely her real self is trapped inside of her mind, screaming to be let out and appalled at what she's done. She's naturally a good person with a tricksy streak, not a genocidal maniac. Emily seems more like a bad egg from birth, but that's because her life was set on a downward slope the minute she was popped out and given up. Then it's just nonstop abuse, tragically. St. Valentina's was a horrid place to live, two years on the streets, twenty years in Hawkins Lab... the Upside Down is arguably her best place of residence and you've seen how hazardous and desolate it is. I guarentee you'd lose your mind, too. And this isn't even mentioning my Mind Flayer theory.

I take the optimistic approach to a very pessimistic trope, but the secret is that I usually find the exterior corruption along the way. At first, the characters usually start by fucking shit up for no reason because I want to throw my action figures together and explore the consequences of poor actions before I feel bad and then decide to find the proverbial "Palpatine" in the Anakin to Vader fall from grace.

Of course, smaller things could be my blue rose motifs, my frequent uses of meta humor/references, and how sometimes you can tell I just remembered a cool word and use it three times each paragraph. Also just the Villain's Favorite Person trope, which with me goes hand in hand with the Corruption Arc. It's demented but there's an inherrent appeal in loving someone so much you'd do anything for them. Someone who's done horrible things being gentle only with the one they love. That sort of shit.

I'm sure there are others I'm forgetting.

35) What's one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

Motivations and how they're not always one-dimensional. All the best villains are ones we can understand, sympathize with because we understand their motives. Sometimes yeah, it's fun to just watch a bad guy fuck shit up for the sake of fucking shit up, but Malekith-type villains are rarely all that memorable (in fact I bet I'm one of maybe six people who remembered his name was Malekith).

I like it when my villains are a little bit sad, wet, and pathetic, or I can mold them to be like that. Look at the characters I ship my OCs with, look at all their drama, their family angst, their abusive pasts, among other things. Even the villains I don't ship my characters with who I use as actual villains, I make sure to analyze their motivations and reasonings.

You have your Thanos types who are trying to do a good thing for the way wrong reasons. Like, my guy, just double the resources. I know some Thanos truthers exist, but I just can't quite see it.

See it hurts knowing Henry would probably agree with Thanos to some degree. I'm a hypocrite for disagreeing with Thanos and being like "yes king go off, fuck humanity" when Henry monologues.

Or, how about delving into something I've only recently been able to discuss because of spoiler reasons, arguably the most complex thing Stephenie Meyer ever came up with that's rarely mentioned and she didn't do anything with: the situation with Didyme. This is what Stephenie Meyer's website mentions about the event, our most thorough analysis on it:

"Once upon a time, a fairly young vampire (he had only been a vampire for a decade and a half) named Aro changed his young sister Didyme, who had just reached adulthood, in order to add her to his growing coven. Aro always wanted power, and because he himself had a potent mind-reading gift, he hoped his biological sister would also be gifted in a way that would help him rise in the vampire world. It turned out that Didyme did have a gift; she carried with her an aura of happiness that affected everyone who came near her. Though it wasn't exactly what he had hoped for, Aro pondered the best ways he could use this gift. Meanwhile, Aro's most trusted partner, Marcus, fell in love with Didyme. This was not unusual; given the way she made people feel, lots of people fell in love with Didyme. The difference was that this time, Didyme fell in love herself. The two of them were tremendously happy. So happy, in fact that, after a while, they no longer cared that much about Aro's plans for domination. After a few centuries, Didyme and Marcus discussed going their own way. Of course, Aro was well aware of their intentions. He was not happy about it, but he pretended to give his blessing. Then he waited for an opportunity to act, and when he knew he would never be found out, he murdered his sister. After all, Marcus's gift was much more useful to him than hers had been. This is not to say that Aro did not truly love his sister; it's just that a key part of his personality is the ability to destroy even what he loves in order to further his ambitions. Marcus never found out that Aro was responsible for Didyme's death. He became an empty man. Aro used Chelsea's gift to keep Marcus loyal to the Volturi, though not even Chelsea's gift could make Marcus show any enthusiasm for it."

That's surprisingly a lot of information and it really shows how much thought she has the capacity to put into these characters, yet refuses to, but I digress. All I did was take the Machivellian motivation mixed with the genuine love Aro had for his sister and just expanded upon that. Alas, actions do have consequences, and Emily's a little shit so go figure.

The point is, villains need to have good motives to make them stick.

54) What's your favorite part of the fanfiction writing process?

That moment when everything, every disparate piece and idea just clicks together and the plot finally comes forward. Usually I start with an idea and find the plot along the way. I think my most classic case would have to be Necrosis. I started with just "Diplopia Sequel" and then ended with:

And it was cathartic as hell

55) Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite?

Oh, god, that's hard, cause I don't typically write for characters I *dislike* writing for. And then that question changes depending on if you mean OCs or canon characters.

I suppose my favorite OC has been Emily since it's been a blast seeing what wacky shit I can do with her. Olivia's gonna be making a comeback soon, though, since Loki s2 is DAYS AWAY AAAAAA- But I missed working with her, it's been a HOT minute.

Favorite Canon is a broader arguement since there's so many fandoms and characters I've written for. Obviously the characters I ship with my OCs I enjoy because I have to be able to see them in a certain way to write them that makes me like them. It has be a joy expanding upon the Volturi though, I'm very proud of what I've come up with. Loki, Sylvie, and Mobius have also been fun and I'm very excited to mess with them again. Eddie was fun to pit against Emily and in particular I remember really enjoying writing the parent/child dynamics between Harry and Keira.

Take your pick I suppose.

74) You've posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you'd written it?

Well, obviously look for my trademarks, playing with morals, blue roses, meta asides. And nine times out of ten if it's a Canon x OC fic, there's a high chance it's a brain child of mine.

But let's very hypothetically say I was to post the one shots I hope to write about Caius and Athenodora's backstories anonymously. Since these characters are so open to interpretation you could probably pick out unique things specific to me about them. Thena has a penchant for swearing and will Cut A Bitch, Caius is a massive wife guy and is extremely horny...

You know come to think of it, these are pretty universally agreed upon ideas... except perhaps Thena's swearing habit, I will stand by the fact that she drops f-bombs like nobody's business.

But aside from all that, I think there's a certain diction and voice my writing has that one could probably pick up on overtime. I'd say assume if you think I wrote it, I probably did.

***

Oh my god I got this ask even before fucking July 5th/Doomsday and I'm just now finishing it I'm so sorry.

[catb-fics]

Fanfiction Year in Review - 2022

I saw this that @icouldntfindquiet did and wanted to do one too! I put it under the cut as it got quite long. Here goes…

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

I’ve only completed imagines as all my multi-part stories are still on-going, but I think these were all done this year (no idea of order):

Daddy, Wet (omg these titles I’m such a slut someone kill me now 😂) In Good Hands, Good Touch, Hungry, Heat, Tease, Incredible, Expectations, Pick Him Up From Heathrow, Skin to Skin and a fair few mini-fic/headcanon type things.

Not finished but multi-part stories I’ve worked on this year are Red, The Devil Next Door, Forbidden, I’m With the Band, Ice Cold, No Nut November and Never Have I Ever.

This has actually shocked me as I didn’t think I’d written that much this year but I’ve written about 70 things 😮

2) Number of words written:

This is hard as I’ve written so many different things but as each update/imagine is usually between 2-4k I’m gonna have a guess at around 200,000 words.

3) Your most popular fic:

It’s hard to say but I feel like Red gets the most love ❤️

4) Your personal fav:

I still love Ice Cold even though I neglected it completely this year 😭 Red would probably come a close second.

5) Your fav scene:

This year it would prob be the gig and then the elevator scene in Red (not just for the eventual and inevitable sex either I just liked how that whole thing came together with the tension between Van and Y/N and how she tries so hard to deny her true feelings).

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

Probably Lyla waking up after her injuries in Ice Cold, I wanted to show a softer side to Van when he takes care of her. I liked how it came out though.

I’m really struggling with the angsty bits in Red too!

7) A line of writing you're proud of:

It’s hard to say as I can’t recall all the specific things I’ve written. I guess I liked these bits in Ice Cold though (and they’re more than a line!)

* * * * *

8) A comment that touched you:

I’m not sure, every single comment or vote or read means the world to me, it really does. I have a silly tag for some lovely asks I’ve had that never fails to make me feel all warm and fluffy inside ha ha! 🥰

9) Something that inspired your writing:

This beautiful man lmao…

Seriously though I get my inspo from everywhere, anons/mutuals sometimes give me amazing ideas, just random scenarios I dream up, I must admit a fair bit of my inspo for Forbidden comes from NSFW tumblr posts! 🙈

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc:

I think I’m just proud for still writing fics now as it was only ever supposed to be a little lockdown hobby. I keep going through phases where I think I’m done with it, but then I keep coming back!

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I hope to continue with writing next year as when I’m in the mood to write it’s so much fun! I know most of my stories are just silly and trashy but it’s just nice to escape into a little fictional world sometimes. I definitely want to finish Red and I’d like to get back into writing Ice Cold if I can. I’m not going to set myself any more goals as life is so busy I don’t have as much time to write nowadays.

Anyway thank you to anyone who’s read my stuff this year, I really appreciate it - it means so much to me ❤️

[viperfangs]

& THE SNAKES START TO SING. ind k.agha from baldur's gate 3.

welcome to #viperfangs. this is an independent & selective roleplaying blog for k.agha of larian studios' b.aldur's g.ate 3.

about the blog. canon compliant, multiverse, multiship (selectively). strictly 21+, one-liners/multi-para/novella. will often match what my writing partner gives me, where possible. crossovers welcomed.

about the writer. my name is Melody, I am 30 years old. I have ADHD so know that I'm slow and I can get easily distracted. discord is available for mutuals.

on kagha. i'm not here writing for kagha to become fodder. please bear that in mind when interacting & please prevent ooc / ic opinions from being crossed. i'm not here to be a punching bag for your muses. the canon on this blog is kagha's redemption arc.

temporarily iconless. may be subject to change in the future. thank you.

ooc communication. i don't take kindly to passive-aggressiveness. it's a massive dealbreaker for me, actually, due to experiences i've had in the past & it will not be tolerated as it makes me extremely uncomfortable. this goes hand-in-hand with guilt tripping, too. i don't like it, at all. i will use the block function if it's a repeated occurrence. i am more than willing to talk out what might be bothering you & i will try to get the air cleared. if it is irredeemable, i would like to part ways amicably.

tagging triggers. when it comes to tagging triggers, i tend to prefer using simple tags so that the blacklist can catch them. if you need something specific tagged, i will do so if i remember ( & i will try my best, but i am a forgetful sod & sometimes a little prod helps ). i tag any nsfw content as lewd.

plotting. so you want to plot with me, eh?! if you've asked to plot with me, thank you! i appreciate you! however, i will not continue any plotting that consists of one-sided ideas being thrown out & getting one-word, dismissive answers. my motivation for threads / plotting is absolutely influenced by my writing partners. if i end up taking the hint that the interest is not there, i will allow a sleeping dog to lie & move on. i do offer divergences in verses to make things easier for interaction & i am more than willing to guzzle content to do so, as well.

all graphics made by @infernaliscor

[forerussake]

1 and 17 for the writing asks!! 💕🥺

Hi friend! Thanks for the ask <33 Let's go!

1. what's the fic youre most proud of? I’m happy to say i’m quite proud of most fic i’ve posted!

I'm more proud of the more recent ones of course, bc my writing ability has evolved since i was a teenager xD but i don’t hate my old fic. It’s like the way Longge talks about his old acting jobs: our older work is just a part of our growth, and we shouldn’t regret any of it because it brought us where we are now.

So really i would just want to list all my recent fics here, but i’ll restrain myself and just mention a few.

I think once it’s finished A hand within a hand (holding light) will definitely be the one i’ll be most proud of. Both bc it’ll be the first ever multi-chapter fic i’ll have finished, and because i’m just really proud of the concept of it. 7 different original character perspectives on shen wei. 7 life stories told in one fic. Writing original characters that were interesting enough that people were willing to read their stories. i think it’s the most challenging concept for a fic i’ve ever tackled. I’m proud of that :)

Other than that one i’m quite proud of Homecoming, which is a coming of age story about a trans woman coming to terms with and growing into her identity.

And i’ll always be very proud of Crowded full of parting’s feeling, which is a 5+1 about lan xichen and loneliness, strung together by references to every single line of one of the first Chinese poems i ever read back in high school, with the title taken from another Chinese poem i first read around the time of writing the fic.

17. What’s the best engagement/interaction/feedback you’ve received from someone who’s read your work? I’m not sure about feedback, but interaction i can talk about for ages.

I always adore especially when people send longer comments about specific things they liked, because it can be surprising. Sometimes readers pick out things you expect them to pick out, sometimes it’s things you were proud of while writing and really really hoped someone would notice, sometimes they say things you hadn’t even realized yourself. Getting to see your readers go through the story in their comment and discovering all the little breadcrumbs you’ve left throughout the story to lead them to the climax and conclusion is honestly the most satisfying thing in the world.

With multi-chapter fic and series i feel very strongly for the people commenting on every chapter as I update. Honestly those people are gold and deserve a medal bc they really really give me strength to continue writing even when a chapter or installment gets hard. As a writer you start to recognize those names, and sometimes you become tumblr mutuals and even friends :)

i don’t want to put anyone on the spot here by tagging them, but yall know who you are and i adore you! thank you for reading and commenting on my fic :)

[elysiadjarin]

Sword and Shield 10

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Part 9: Shatter

Warnings: very much 18+, minors DNI you have been warned, TW for trauma and PTSD, PIV unprotected sex (irl please be safe and use protection), everything is consensual, overstimulation, oral, cockwarming, dom/sub interactions, choking, subspace mentions, poly relationship. Also I swear Wrecker will get a chapter too, don’t come at me!!

I know it’s been a while but I hope this long chapter makes up for it!

10: Recover, Relive

Two more smaller missions later, the Bad Batch had been given a break. You’d pushed through the healing and the expected night of nightmares just fine thanks to being able to curl up to the warmth of Tech and Wrecker. The entire team had been pretty careful with you for the past couple of days, letting you have your space to recover while you continued to work alongside them for missions.

Crosshair hadn’t said anything, really, but his willingness to just let you quietly sit in his presence or in the back of his mind and polish your Rifle form was his way of showing support that you appreciated.

You'd been relieved for the break, knowing that you needed a moment to reset and devote everything to recovering. While you'd started to get over the worst nightmares and the last of your injuries had completely healed, you were still struggling with flashbacks and keeping your focus.

Sitting curled up on Hunter's bunk, you leaned your chin against your knees pulled up to your chest and sighed. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see Skarla's maniacal eyes and bloodstained grin as she reached into your body and reveled in your pain. You could still hear your own screams echoing through your memories. You'd buried them so deep, the inhibitor chips having contributed to the suppression, and now... well, it was coming back and demanding to be dealt with.

The 501st had already helped you deal with so much of your past. But not everything. And this... these memories had been ones that you’d barely disclosed to even them.

“Shiv.”

You looked up to see Hunter standing in front of the bunk, carefully sitting down on the edge. “Oh... hi.” You smiled faintly.

He observed you carefully. “Are you doing okay?”

For a moment, the temptation to just say “I’m fine” hovered on your lips. But you remembered how disappointed all your Vod’ika had been when they discovered you’d been suffering and hadn’t told them. And the Bad Batch... the ones you loved, deserved better. You knew that.

So you looked down at your knees, then back up at him. “A memory for a memory?” you offered.

Surprise flickered through his eyes, then he scooted backward and leaned against the wall. “I guess that’s fair,” he admitted. Eyebrows furrowing, he thought for a minute before finally answering. “There was one mission,” he said slowly. “It was pretty early on. Everything... almost went wrong to the point of failure. In the end, it was my fault that I didn’t listen and got Tech nearly killed.” His chest heaved with a sigh, his head shaking. “It taught me a valuable lesson, and made me a better leader. Tech forgave me. But sometimes... I still hate myself for it.” Bitterness laced his tone. “I can still hear him screaming in pain, and remember how I felt when I realized what I’d done. I’ll never forget how my own stupidity and pride allowed me to fail the team. In some ways... what happened to you on our first mission reminded me of that.”

You sat in silence for a minute, mulling over his story. In retrospect, it would make sense why Hunter had seemed to loathe himself overmuch and take too much blame for your injury on that mission. Still, you knew that most of it had been your own fault for getting distracted and allowing yourself to get sidetracked from the mission.

“Skarla,” you said abruptly. You felt his surprise over the Bond before it faded away. “She...” Your lips twisted. “She is who she is for a reason. But she’s also... extremely cruel. I... I can survive and heal from wounds that most can’t, because of what I am,” you said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “So my wounds sometimes— they seem a lot worse to others than to me because my scale of survival is different. Skarla has... well,” you said, shifting, “she’s well aware of that fact. Every time I would fail to defeat the Guardian, she would be allowed to punish me for fifteen minutes in whatever way she pleased.”

Fifteen minutes of Nine Corellian Hells. Fifteen minutes of begging for death.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve been torn open, ribs cracked, my guts rearranged,” you said, exhaustion lining your voice. “Honestly, I’ve forgotten a lot of it. My brain... couldn’t handle keeping the memories and still staying sane, I was told. I guess it’s better I don’t. What I do still remember... it haunts me. Just the memory of the pain, wishing for death. Staring up at the ceiling of the chamber and hearing my own blood splatter against the walls, hearing myself scream like a stranger. They’re some of my worst memories. Being back there... it was hard but...” You looked down thoughtfully at your hands.

“As hard as it was... it wasn’t unbearable. Not anymore. Knowing that- that all of you were there, and that— that you believed in me, trusted me... Even Tech: he trusted me. It gave me a strength to face not just my past but my nightmares and memories now because... because I have all of you.” You gave Hunter a small but genuine smile. “Being able to feel that strength... it helped me to defeat my past.”

Hunter met your gaze with a softness in his eyes that warmed you. He held out his hand, and you took it gratefully. “We’re here for you, Shiv. In whatever way you need.”

You nodded, then scooted closer to him and leaned into his side. “I’m here, too. I want... I want to return the strength you’ve given me.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “You do already. In more ways than you know.”

Despite yourself, you had to duck your head as heat rose to your face. Your mind wouldn’t stop supplying you with memories of Hunter thrusting into you, his hands gripped around your waist and siding down your back, pulling you into his hips. His face buried between your legs, fingers sliding into you— Crosshair’s lithe fingers wrapping around your throat as Hunter came inside you, moaning—

Hunter let out a quiet chuckle. “Oh, did you remember something else in particular, Shiv?”

Thoroughly embarrassed, you buried your face in your hands with a whimper, knowing he could feel the heat coming from you and probably even smell you at this point. But for some reason... the memories wouldn’t stop. You.... wanted it. Wanted him.

Hunter’s mouth brushed against your throat, even as he pulled you back and into his chest. “If you want to make new memories, I’d be glad to help with that.”

You whined, biting your lips. “I...”

He kissed your neck, sliding up to your jaw. His hand reached up and gently tilted your chin to his face. “Is this what you want, Shiv?” he asked it in a low, husky tone, his dark eyes darting down to your mouth with a flare of desire.

You swallowed, then nodded. Yes. You wanted Hunter.

He bent and kissed you. His kiss this time was a bit different. Maybe because this time you were alone, you didn’t know, but... there was something about his kiss that was more tender, more... slow, as though he were savoring you, memorizing the feel of your lips against his.

“Come here,” Hunter rasped, turning you towards himself. Reaching up, he pulled his shirt off and dragged you close again, his hands sliding down your back as he kissed you. His mouth was hungry, his hands taking yours and placing them against his chest. His fingers gently slid under your top, and he pulled back for a moment.

“Can I?”

You nodded shyly, letting him slide your shirt and bra off. His hands slid up, cupping your breasts in his hands and admiring them for a moment.

“Can’t blame Tech for being obsessed,” Hunter admitted after a moment, teasing your nipples with his fingers.

You whimpered, shivering under the touch as you bit your lip. His calloused hands were warm and firm, and the deft confidence in the way he touched you brought back memories of his hands effortlessly wielding you as a blaster. Hunter’s touch was one of a leader, confident and respectful of the power he held, knowing its limits and its capacities and treating it accordingly.

“So you feel that, too,” Hunter murmured, making you realize that his Bond with you was alight with shared sensation.

His hand moved down, splaying over your bared stomach. He paused, his eyes curious as he simply gazed at his fingers, his palm covering your navel. Your chest heaved with breath as you wondered what he was thinking. A little embarrassed at the intensity that had crept into his gaze, your fingers twitched on the waist of his trousers.

Hunter bent forward, then, and caught your mouth in a long, languid kiss that brimmed with appreciation. His hands swept down to your waist, settling on your hips. “You’re beautiful, Shiv,” he murmured against your mouth.

A little surprised, you pulled back to blink up at him. Hunter had never really struck you as one to pay attention to that sort of thing, so his soft, earnest comment surprised you.

He reached up, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know all of us love all of you, and admittedly some of us might be especially appreciative of specific things. But whenever I see you, all I think of is... you,” he said slowly, eyes trailing over your face. “Watching you interact with the team, seeing you get excited when you’re successful in Transference, or even just... sitting on a bunk somewhere. I think just your astral form is enough for me to know it’s you, mesh’la.” He leaned his forehead against yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to smile and close your eyes. The warmth curled in you, and you let your happiness spill over the Bond.

“Mm. Although I do think that you’re a different kind of pretty when you’re clearly enjoying getting fucked,” Hunter chuckled, his voice deepening as he leaned closer to your ear.

The filthy words accompanied by the way Hunter’s hands sensually trailed up your front made you bite your lip and flush, looking down. Despite yourself, a thought popped into your head and you suddenly giggled, reaching up to press your fingers against your lips.

“Something funny?” Hunter asked, amusement lacing his own voice.

“My Vod’ika,” you giggled. “They’d all be losing their minds if they knew that I—“ you burst into a fresh wave of laughter, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Maker, Kix is protective enough, he’d want to kill all of you- and Fives, oh, Fives—“ Tears of laughter welled in your eyes as you thought about it. Fives wouldn’t know whether to tease you or want to fight the Bad Batch. Hawk and Dogma would be in shock that you were with four people.

Hunter laughed with you, shaking his head. “Not sure if I should laugh or be offended that you’re thinking of other men while I’m touching you,” he teased.

You suppressed your laughter, grinning up at him. “Sorry, Hunter,” you managed. “I promise I’m paying attention to you.” You lifted his hand to your face, leaning your cheek into his palm with a smile.

His eyes darkened, and he tipped you back. Catching you gently, he lowered you onto the bunk and pulled the pillow under your head. Shifting himself above you, he bent to kiss you and pull your body against his. His fingers played against your shorts, and you had to squirm a little at the way your body sparked at the friction. Letting out a little noise into his mouth, you canted your hips up as he ground against you.

Hunter let out a quiet grunt into your mouth, nipping at your lips. “You want these off, mesh’la?” His hands tugged at your shorts.

You lifted your hips, letting him slide them off. To your vague surprise, he left your underwear on. He started to kiss down your neck and chest. His fingers slid around the thin underwear, and he grunted as he felt how slick you’d already gotten. His fingers found barely any friction as they slid into your core.

You gasped, back arching as he pressed his fingers up into you. He worked you in a way that had you whining, entirely at his mercy as he proved how diligent he’d been in exploring your body and leaning your curves and edges. He traveled down your body, kissing your thigh as he continued to work his fingers and stretch you. The way he stared at your drooling core sent a flush of heat through you.

Then his thumb pushed aside more of the underwear, and his face lowered.

You let out a strangled gasp, back arching as your hands flew down and found purchase in his hair. His breath was hot against your core, his tongue dizzyingly familiar with your body. He grunted as your fingers tightened and twisted in his hair, his fingers finding that spot that had you arching into his mouth with a moan.

“Hunter,” you moaned, trembling against him as you felt that coil tighten in your abdomen.

After one last, long lick, Hunter lifted his mouth and licked you off of his lips with a satisfied look. Shifting himself back up your body, he slid his fingers out of you and instead brought them to your mouth.

You let him slide his fingers between your lips, the flavor bursting in your mouth. His fingers pushed against your tongue, and he surveyed you with dark eyes and a lazy smile. After a moment, he pulled his hand away and slid his trousers off, bending to kiss you again. He settled himself between your legs, his cock resting heavily against your core and up your lower belly. Something slick dripped onto your skin, warm and thick.

“Is this okay, Shiv?” Hunter asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, reaching up to slide your hands up his shoulders. Over the Bond, you could feel the way his utter desperation to be inside you heightened. His mind, as he lost control of the Bond, kept focusing on the way your body melted into his hands, the way his body burned as he pressed against you, the way he gravitated towards you. He let out a quiet gasp as his cock slipped against you, his eyes squeezing shut above you.

He slowly, ever so slowly, eased into you. Every inch earned you another low groan, and you had to stare up at his face in awe. Hunter’s face twisted in pleasure, his jaw clenched and his eyelashes fluttering.

“Maker, mesh’la,” he choked, shuddering above you as he completely bottomed out, buried deep inside you. “I can’t— you’re so kriffing tight.” His eyes, when he opened them to stare down at you, looked practically drugged.

You abruptly remembered Hunter’s enhanced senses, especially as a wave came over his side of the Bond of his overwhelmed pleasure. Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands, trying to make sure he wouldn’t overdo himself.

“Just relax,” you whispered, feeling the way he trembled against you. You knew that the moment he started moving you’d be dangerously close to the edge thanks to his own pleasure he was sharing across the Bond. Not to mention the way Hunter was practically collapsed on top of you, his body pressed against yours, his low groans spilling into your ear as his mouth pressed against your skin. His arms braced himself on either side of you, your legs propped up against his hips.

“Gonna— gonna move,” he hissed, slowly pulling back out so only his tip stayed in you. “Kriff,” he mumbled under his breath.

You were already making sloppy sounds, and you whimpered as he pushed back into you. The way his movements were so precise and sure, the way his mouth pressed against yours with a burning need made that tightness in you start to snap. You whined, already so close to coming.

“You gonna cum, Shiv?” Hunter chuckled, his voice raspy. “You’re so kriffing wet around me.”

You moaned, eyes fluttering as he started to thrust, pitching into you smoothly. His hand reached down between you, and his thumb found your clit.

“You feel so good, so hot and wet and tight,” he murmured, beginning to praise you even as his hips started to stutter. “Kriff, mesh’la, you take me so well. So pretty, under me like this.”

You whimpered, reveling in the soft praises and touches that he showered on you. You could feel him starting to get close himself, his movements a little more erratic as he lost control.

“So lucky to have you, that you love us,” Hunter rasped against your neck, his kiss almost reverent. “Gonna— gonna cum, mesh’la—“

His finger twitched against your clit and you were arching, crying out his name as the heat washed through you, white hot. Pleasure burst behind your eyelids as you came, just as he slammed into you and ground, groaning your name. He spilled into you, filling you up, then shuddered and collapsed against you. His body leaned against yours, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder.

The heat that pooled in your belly as Hunter kept you plugged made your eyelashes flutter. Letting out a soft sigh of contentment, you reached up and gently drew your fingers through his hair.

His chest heaved for breath, and his hands ran down your sides appreciatively. “I love you, so much,” he whispered, his voice getting heavy.

You reached up and pressed a shy kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you too, Hunter. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He fell asleep rather quickly, though you guessed it was in part due to the overstimulation. You waited until he was asleep before carefully sliding out from underneath him. You quickly adjusted your underwear to catch Hunter’s cum starting to run down your leg. You needed to make it to the fresher, but had to lean against the wall halfway there as your knees almost gave out.

You finally managed to go get yourself cleaned up, and went to go change underwear and fetch your bra. You made rounds to collect laundry, putting in a load and blowing out a breath. Pushing hair away from your face, you went to the common area to go find a T-shirt you knew you’d left in there.

Looking around, you finally caught sight of the large shirt and perked up, going to go grab it and slide it over yourself. Tech was the only other one in the common room, and you made a quick decision as you walked over to him.

“Tech?” you asked softly.

He looked up at you, blinking owlishly as he registered your presence. “Ah, Shiv.” He readjusted his goggles. “Can I assist you with something?”

You tilted your head, clasping the edge of the shirt in your fingers. “If... if you’re not busy, can I— can I talk with you?” you asked, suddenly a bit nervous.

He turned fully toward you. “Sure, Shiv. I was just working on a few odds and ends anyway.”

You glanced down at his legs. “Um, can I— can I sit?”

Some confusion flickered across his face. “Of course-“

You got closer to him and slid into his lap, facing him with your legs on either side of him and your hands twisted in the hem of your shirt. He let out a small noise of surprise, his hands coming up to your hips to steady you.

“I wanted to thank you,” you said softly, still not looking up at his face.

“Thank me? For what, Shiv?” Tech asked curiously. His hands tugged at you, bringing you a little closer to him.

“I know I said it before, but— but I really wanted to thank you properly,” you said, scrambling for words. “For how you trusted me, back during the... the ritual.” You made a little, nervous gesture. “I mean— it means more to me than I think you realize. It’s— the ritual is one that’s... that’s fueled by blood, whether yourself or your Champion. Skarla— she’s always been very powerful and- and she... she was very cruel to me, a long time ago. Going back there was...” your face twisted in misery as you looked down. “It was really difficult, and I— it brought back a lot of fear.”

Taking a breath, you made yourself look up at him. “But you trusted me, believed in me. You didn’t even question me when I led you towards dangerous places, and did everything I asked without hesitating. You trusted me to the point that when faced with something unusual... you readily gave your blood for me.” Your heart was in your throat even as you said it. “It— it meant so much to me, Tech,” your voice wavered, your eyes welling with tears. “The only reason I actually won that match... is because of you.” You met his eyes, trying to convey how much it truly meant.

Tech’s eyes widened as he gazed at you with surprise, his fingers tightening around your waist.

“You gave me the strength I needed to push through, and the way you believed in me...” You reached up and wiped away the grateful tears that had sprang to your eyes. “I fought a battle against my fear and the memories of my failure, too,” you whispered. “But your faith in me was what really gave me the power to win. And I wanted— I needed to thank you. So you know... know what it means to me.”

Tech leaned forward. Your eyes widened as he kissed you, taken a bit aback by the suddenness. But it felt so good, the way his mouth pressed against yours and the way his emotions started to spill over the Bond to you. Tech was... his kiss always made you lean into him, eyes fluttering closed as you melted into the gentle, desperate affection. His precise, clinical nature softened whenever he kissed and touched you.

“I am glad that you are all right,” Tech said, his voice quiet and earnest. “It was... frightening, to see you fight alone. I am pleased to know that I could give you strength in any way I could.”

You leaned forwards and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You’re welcome, cyar’ika,” he murmured back. He let out a sigh as you shifted, his hands gripping around your hips. “Shiv— could I ask a favor?”

You blinked, pulling back to look up at him.

He glanced down at the hem of your shirt, and an image flashed across the Bond. You, leaning against Wrecker’s chest, fast asleep, Wrecker’s thick cock buried inside you as your chest rose and fell with breath and your face flushed with the arousal. Color crept up Tech’s neck.

“I— um—“

You looked up at him with a shy smile, a bit embarrassed but also flattered that he seemed to be so enamored with your body as well. Leaning down, you grasped his hand and brought it up to the hem of your shirt, pushing his fingers up under it.

Tech swallowed, his hand trailing upward, sliding to the edge of your bra. He glanced at you for permission, and you answered by reaching down and unzipping his trousers. His breath hitched as you began to slowly pump him, your fingers playing a little with his tip. His hand slid under your bra, brushing over your nipple as you bit your lips at the stimulation. Your body was still a little sensitive after Hunter, and you were starting to feel the tiredness pluck at your eyelids.

Tech slid his fingers around your underwear, only to feel you dripping wet and still leaking a bit of Hunter. He brought his fingers up and didn’t seem to be surprised at the white, simply sticking it in his mouth.

“Shiv,” Tech murmured, bending to press a kiss to your throat.

You scooted forwards, letting him guide himself into you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you had to let out a soft moan as he sank fully into you, stuffing you so perfectly. Tech really was the perfect girth for this, you thought dizzily. He just hit every spot inside you as he stuffed you full and kept you sitting still on his cock. It almost made you feel torn between wanting to move and wanting it to stay there, resting perfectly inside you, lighting you up in the best way possible.

He let out a groan against your ear, his hands keeping your hips pressed against his, keeping you completely pressed into his chest, every curve of your body melting against his. Letting out a shuddering breath, he shifted and scooted forwards, beginning to resume his work.

Despite yourself, you had to open your mouth against the crook of his neck and shoulder, biting down gently and beginning to absently suckle. His skin had a hint of salt, but just the warmth of his skin comforted you, your eyes fluttering closed as you suckled a mark into his neck.

Eventually you fell asleep, happily cradled against him and stuffed completely full.

~

“Oh, hey, there’s Shiv! I was wondering where she was.”

Stirring, you started to wake up. Reaching up, you rubbed at your eye and felt the yawn build in your mouth.

“You woke her up, Wrecker,” Tech sounded a bit morose.

“Huh? Oh— sorry, Shiv.” Wrecker’s voice sounded closer.

You sat up a little, arms still flung across Tech’s shoulders. Stretching, you let the yawn stretch your mouth and your eyes flutter open. Sleep still sticking in your eyes, you blinked up at Wrecker, lips parted.

Wrecker grinned. “Did you have a good nap?”

You nodded belatedly, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. For a moment, you just blankly stared at Tech’s collar as you woke up more fully. Then shaking your head, you looked up at his face. He gazed back down at you, his hand lightly resting on your thigh. He brushed his thumb across your skin, and you suddenly realized why your lower body felt warm with a pulsing heat. He was still buried hilt deep inside you, his cock thick and hard as it pressed up inside you.

“You’ve been asleep for a chron,” Tech said, his voice surprisingly even.

Your mind fizzled for a moment. He hadn’t moved for a whole chron? He hadn’t cum, obviously, so... Then your lips parted, and you tilted your head at him. But your breath caught in your throat, and you instead shivered and looked down, your face blooming with warmth. Reaching up, you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth to suppress your whimper.

“Ah— th-thank you, I— I think I needed that nap,” you admitted, trying to scrape yourself together. “Um-“ You glanced up to see Tech’s knowing, little smile that he gave you. His hand slid down to your inner thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin. His eyes glittered with the knowledge that at the moment, the T-shirt was the only thing hiding the way your body was clenching around him, making a wet spot against his trousers, drooling all over him, coating your thighs in slick. Every time he pulsed, you felt his cock press up against your g-spot.

“Wrecker, can you hand Shiv her datapad? I think it’s still on the table,” Tech said, his voice still frustratingly calm considering how clearly desperate his body was.

You glanced up at him in a bit of despair, wondering if he was really going to still not move. Though it didn’t surprise you that Tech’s patience and endurance were so high, still. This was on the verge of being cruel. Your body clearly had been frustrated this whole time you’d been asleep, denied movement and friction.

Wrecker handed you the datapad, and you took it with a weak smile. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Tech’s hand squeezed a handful of your thigh. Stay still for me, cyar’ika. And because it was Tech, somehow the order was still coated with that enamored desperation that made you want to obey, just to give him whatever he wanted.

Leaning forward again, you rested your chin against Tech’s shoulder and propped your arms over his shoulders, opening up the datapad. You also realized that Tech had taken off your bra, though you wondered where he’d put it. Not that you cared, particularly. He leaned forward a little as well, reaching for a tool, and pressed your breasts against his chest.

You whined across the Bond, pouting at how mean he was.

He just chuckled, the loving affection pouring across the Bond a satisfactory compensation.

Wrecker sat across from you, beginning to chatter about how he’d been training. You listened, humming and nodding as you pulled up the schematics that Tech had uploaded to your datapad for Wrecker’s combat gloves. You’d been studying and modifying them so that hopefully Wrecker would be able to have them by the next mission.

Just then, Crosshair strolled in. “Hunter says there’s a bit of turbulence ahead,” he drawled, just as the ship jolted.

You let out a choked gasp as it made you rise a little and slam back down on Tech’s cock. Eyes widening, you tried to keep your composure as you gripped onto your datapad. Tech’s grunt had been lost, but the way he throbbedinside you was a sweet sort of revenge.

“Whoa.” Wrecker grabbed onto his seat. “What is it?”

“Asteroid belt,” Cross said, grabbing onto the nearest steady surface. “We have to manually fly through some of it.”

Your mind was already short circuiting. Tech had somehow gotten bigger inside of you, and you were almost on the verge of tears thanks to the way he was pressing into all your sensitive spots. At this point, you were just desperately trying to hold still while your body clamped down on his cock and inched so much closer to the edge. Tech’s hand on your lower back still somehow kept you grounded, reminding you not to move. You didn’t want to disobey. You wanted to make Tech happy.

“Hey Shiv, what’re you working on?” Wrecker asked, turning to you. The ship still dipped and swerved once in a while.

You fumbled with your datapad, connecting it to the holoscreen and transferring the data. “Your- your gloves,” you managed, trying to keep yourself at least coherent. But it was so hard when Tech’s warmth was engulfing you, his hand sweeping down your back, across your thigh, pressing your chest into his.

“I’m trying to modify them before our next mission,” you continued, highlighting the list of mods you’d created off to the side of the schematic. “These are the ones that have already been done, and these are the ones that I’d like to try to do-“

The ship jolted, taking a sharp turn up before coming straight back down and banking. This time, you barely managed to keep yourself from letting out a filthy, desperate moan. Tech had slid his hand down as though to brace you, but his thumb slid under the hem of the shirt and instead slicked up your clit.

You’re doing very well, Shiv, Tech’s voice puddled in your mind. You already came twice while you were asleep. You were so good for Hunter, do you think you could be good for me just a little longer?

So you bit back your sob and instead sank your teeth into your lip so hard you swore you’d leave a mark. You weren’t surprised that Tech knew about you and Hunter’s earlier session: Hunter always projected unconsciously once he was on sensory overload.

“That looks super cool, Shiv! I can’t wait to test it out.” Wrecker was grinning.

“Ah— sorry, Shiv. I need to grab this for a moment,” Tech said, just before moving forward and pressing his hand against your lower back. He grabbed something, then leaned back again and trailed his hand up your back.

Crosshair met your gaze across the room, his lips tilting up in a knowing smirk. His eyes swept over you, a hint of appreciation buried in his dark eyes. He said nothing, but you knew that he’d figured out exactly what was happening. You were past the point of embarrassment. Not only because your body was desperate, but also because the boys all quite clearly appreciated the projections over the Bonds and the sight of you being made a mess over and over.

The final jolt back into hyperspace proved to be too much for you. The way it pressed you wholly into Tech’s front and caused your clit to grind against his hip. The way your body clenched even wrenched a grunt from him.

The datapad fell from your weak fingers, clattering to the floor. Your head dropped down, your breaths quick and shallow as your entire face flushed, eyes fluttering closed. Lips parted, you peeled open drugged and teary eyes.

“Shiv? You okay?” Wrecker asked, looking at you in some surprise.

“Cruel, Tech,” Hunter’s amused voice came from the doorway. He jerked his head. “I’m going to go get some more shut-eye. Take care of her.” He disappeared down the hall.

“Huh?” Wrecker looked thoroughly confused.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Wrecker, she’s been sitting there for over a chron.”

Tech turned the chair to give Wrecker the full view. His hand slid up your thigh, bringing the edge of the shirt up as his hand traveled further up your hip and waist. “She’s been cockwarming me,” Tech said almost casually. “I wanted to see how sensitive she could get. A... pleasant experiment, if you will.”

You were shivering at that point, your mouth watering as tears slipped down your cheeks. The overstimulation was a pleasure you simultaneously wished would end and yet never stop. Your entire body felt like you were trying to completely melt into Tech, legs trembling.

Wrecker laughed, eyes lighting up. “Whoa Tech, I guess you really must have wanted it. A whole chron?” He shook his head, but his eyes trailed over you. “I mean, Shiv does look really pretty like that, though,” he admitted.

Crosshair approached, bending to tilt your chin up to his face with his finger. “Well, it looks like our little kitten is rather happy about your experiment. But also getting... desperate.” A smirk curled the corner of his lips as he stared at you through half-lidded eyes. “How... appealing.” He brushed a tear off of your chin, then straightened and walked back toward the door. “Take care of her, Tech. I’ll be back to talk to her once she’s... available.”

“Good luck, Shiv. I’m gonna go get a snack,” Wrecker said cheerfully, following Cross out the door with a wave.

“It seems as though we all liked the results of this experiment,” Tech remarked, sounding satisfied.

Your fingers curled in his shirt, nails scraping across his back. Lips parting, you breathed his name in a soft, half-drunk voice that dripped with pleasure. You wanted to cum, yes, but more than that, you wanted the satisfaction of hearing Tech praise you for not moving, for being good. Just his hand on your back and the steady affection that poured over the Bond was enough to make you seek more, whatever the means.

Tech shivered under you at the sound of his name spilling from your lips, and his fingers tightened on your waist. “You’ve done so well, cyar’ika,” he murmured, kissing your ear. “Thank you for being patient. Can I make it up to you, now?”

Your mouth watered at the idea, and you pulled back a little to be able to look up at his face. You knew you were a wreck, lips trembling and tear streaks down your face, but you wanted it. Wanted to ask.

“Can I-“ You swallowed thickly, feeling your face flush. “Can you...” You licked your lips. “In my mouth?”

Surprise flickered in his eyes for a moment, then he reached forward and cupped your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed away the tear-tracks, and his eyes softened. “If that’s what you want, of course. But I’d like to make you feel good, first.”

Your mind fuzzed with confusion. Make you feel good? But that’s literally all you’d been feeling the whole time, wasn’t it? He was the one that hadn’t cum yet.

All remaining coherent thought flew out of your head the moment Tech’s fingers found your clit. He leaned forward, drawing you into a tender kiss that sharply contrasted the way he dragged his fingers against you. His hips snapped up into you once, and you broke.

You wailed.

The pent-up release that had been building as he edged you over and over had you seeing stars, fireworks, whole galaxies. It burst inside you with a heat that washed over you and stole your breath, searing into your bones and wrenching a shattered sob from your mouth. You hardly registered that Tech’s name was spilling from your lips in a litany of prayer, too wrecked to even remember your own name.

You slowly wound down from the devastating high, trembling, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body sparked and shuddered, humming in the aftermath in a way that left a glowing ember of satisfied warmth deep inside you. Coming undone had never so intensely walked the line of pleasure just this side of pain.

Tech’s arms were wrapping around your waist, one hand coming up to cup your face as he pulled you to lean against him. You started to register his steady stream of praise as he kissed your cheek and trailed his lips down your neck and shoulder.

“You did so well, cyar’ika. You deserve to feel good. So pretty, cumming for me.”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you slowly recovered, your body all but boneless against his chest. Snuggling into him, you tucked your face into his neck and sighed softly. You just... wanted a moment. To just press against Tech and feel his presence, his hands gently skimming over you, soothing you.

“Are you okay?” Tech checked, his voice low and inquisitive.

You hummed and nodded against his shoulder, basking in the glow of the high. “Thank you, Tech,” you murmured shyly.

He coaxed your head back so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. “For what? You’re the one who had to put up with my experiment.” The words were half-teasing, but his thumb stroked over your cheek with a tenderness that showed his mild concern.

You shook your head, reaching up to delicately brush your fingers across his face, peering up from under your lashes. “You take really good care of me, even though you’re feeling it a lot too...”

He had to be almost on the verge of pain. The way he was still buried inside you at the moment gave you an acute knowledge of how much his cock was throbbing, straining inside you.

His breath came out a bit shaky. “You come first, cyar’ika.”

Reaching up, you pulled him into a grateful kiss. Before the 501st, and even then rarely, no one had ever put you first in anything. The way the Bad Batch had taken care of you even in the middle of war had been a first in so many ways. And even now, Tech had put your wellbeing and comfort first, before his own. You wanted to return the favor.

Tech leaned into the kiss, clearly growing desperate for relief. Still, the kiss was tender for all its hunger, and his hands smoothed over your waist gently.

Pulling back, you slid out of his lap and all but puddled to the floor, your knees completely weak after the force of your orgasm. Still, that’s all you needed. Scooting forward a little, you reached out and brushed your fingers against the swollen, almost purpled head of his weeping cock. He was straining, and he let out a hiss as your fingers dragged across him. A thought struck you, and you tilted your head.

“What do you want, Tech?” you asked, your fingers smearing with your own slick coating his cock. You looked up at him, wanting to please him in the way he wanted.

He lurched forward a little, then looked down at you and panted. “I— wh-what... I...”

You paused in your stroking, your thumb rubbing on the underside. “I want you to feel good, too.”

Before he could quite help himself or stop it, a thought rocketed across the Bond. Color burst in his neck, creeping up to the tips of his ears. Despite yourself, you had to stifle a giggle and instead smile a little, wholly unsurprised even if his reaction did amuse you.

Shuffling forward, you pulled your shirt up and over your head. You had to think about it for a moment, but you decided to just give it your best shot regardless of the potential awkwardness. For Tech... you’d try your best. You pushed yourself closer to his lap, letting his straining cock fall between your breasts. Reaching up, you pushed your chest together and felt the slick slide against your skin.

Tech let out a low, tortured groan that made your already-battered body pulse with appreciation. He shuddered, eyes squeezing shut as pure pleasure flashed across his face. His eyes peeled open in time to see you kitten lick the tip of his cock just peeking from between your breasts.

Readjusting yourself, you found a position that let you move a little bit while still having access for your mouth. Sliding lower, you took the whole head into your mouth. It had swollen to the point that it was almost a struggle to get it in your mouth. The moment the heat of your mouth hit his cock, he let out a strangled moan and lurched, shuddering.

“I’m not— not going to last, Shiv,” he gasped, his whole body starting to tremble.

You lifted your mouth. “S’okay, Tech,” you said shyly. “You can use me.”

You knew that he was close, but you really had underestimated the effect the visual was having on him. You’d just stretched your mouth open around him again when he let out a half-choked cry. It took you by surprise, not expecting it that quickly.

Taken off guard, the first burst into your mouth made you squeak. Every spurt of his cum kept gathering in your mouth faster than you could swallow, and soon your mouth was completely full. It started to trickle out of the corners of your mouth, while you braced yourself for balance by splaying your palm against Tech’s stomach. His hand reached down and tangled in your hair, twitching weakly as he groaned.

He was gasping for breath by the time he rode out his high. His fingers loosened, and your mouth popped off of his cock as you fell back onto the floor. Mouth still full, you whined in protest as it started to drip out of your mouth. Some splashed onto your chest, and you lifted your fingers to your lips as you swallowed. You still hadn’t swallowed all of it by the time you opened your mouth for breath, so more of it ended up on your chest.

You pouted a little, wishing you hadn’t wasted so much. Tech’s cum, for some reason, was just enough of that tangy-sweet flavor with a hint of salt to make you not hate it. Besides, now you’d have to clean yourself off more than you’d normally have to otherwise. Looking down, you smeared a bit over your chest with your slick fingers, sticking them in your mouth.

Tech had slumped over in his chair, getting his breath back.

You crawled up closer to him again, getting his attention. “Are you okay, Tech?” you asked, a little concerned.

Tech looked at you, and his eyes riveted on your mouth, trailing down to your chest. Swallowing thickly, he nodded. “Maker, yes,” he murmured, dragging a hand through his hair.

You smiled up at him. “I’m glad.” Looking back down at yourself, you hummed. “I should go clean up again...”

“Sorry,” Tech blurted.

You looked up, surprised. “F-for what?”

“I— I made a mess...” He glanced down at you. “Didn’t get to warn you.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, Tech. I don’t mind.” You gave him a smile, standing slowly to make sure your knees would get you to the fresher. Scooping up the T-shirt, you headed for the door. “I’ll be back.”

You cleaned up, pulling the T-shirt back over yourself before heading back to the common area. Finding your poor datapad, you picked it up from where you’d dropped it. Tech came up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you, Shiv. I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

You nodded back, giving him a smile. Turning back to your datapad, you decided to resume a bit of work you’d been doing. Taking a break from Wrecker’s gloves, you pulled up a series of footage you’d meant to assess from a recent mission. Hooking up the datapad to the holoscreen, you started to scrutinize the footage.

You’d wanted to see if you could better understand Crosshair’s personal preferences as far as vantage point and strengths went in order to better accommodate for him. Though you did know a few of his tells as a sniper, you still felt a little in the dark when it came to any patterns he had. You wanted to try to see if you could learn anything more, also wanting to see how he handled you as a weapon from an outsider’s perspective. Sometimes, it helped you adjust better.

As usual, you lost yourself in the familiar work and completely lost track of your surroundings. Hands wrapped around your waist, settling on your hips and bringing you out of your focused haze.

“Well, it looks like I found our little kitten doing something interesting,” a voice hummed into your ear, low and smooth.

Color leaped into your face as you gasped, pulled back into his chest. “O-oh, Crosshair...”

One hand anchoring your hip to him, his other hand started to trail up your front. “And what exactly were you doing, Shiv?” he drawled, lazy but not displeased.

You swallowed. “I— I was trying to analyze footage a little more,” you answered, voice pitching a little higher. “I just— I feel like I don’t know your preferences enough, and- and I wanted to see if I could do— do better for you—“

Crosshair’s fingers came up to your neck, tracing the side of your throat down to your shoulder. “Is that right? Don’t you think we should be the ones analyzing you a little more?”

The comment had something.... else to it. An edge that made you pause, tilting your head to look up into his face. Was he upset about something?

A soft sigh blew over your skin, the only way you even knew he’d done it at all. “We stood by and watched as you fought the Guardian and weren’t able to do anything. Didn’t even know you could fight like that. What’s the point in having you be our weapon if we don’t even know anything about you?”

You closed your eyes. “It’s not your fault if I didn’t tell you,” you pointed out quietly. “And I... I should have, I know. That’s on me, not you.”

Cross grunted. “You blame yourself too much,” he grumbled.

You gasped as his teeth sank into the crook of your neck, not hard enough to bruise but definitely enough for you to feel it. Your back arched automatically, though his fingers tightened around your throat and held your head back and neck accessible.

Your eyes squeezed shut as your fingers grappled against his trousers for some sort of stability. Everything seemed to be spinning, Crosshair’s mouth hot against your skin. His hand on your hip pulled you into him, and he ground against your ass in a way that left you squirming on the verge of embarrassment. He chuckled.

“Is my little kitten going to be good for me?” A hint of stubble rasped against your neck, leaving you shuddering.

“Yes,” you whimpered, already trembling. Cross may not have been physically as large or intimidating as Wrecker, but the lithe strength in his arms and the deft confidence of his thin, calloused fingers did something to you that left you utterly weak.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, voice slick. His hand slid under the oversized T-shirt, trailing up your hip. His fingers hooked on your underwear, playing with the fabric. His mouth moved lazily over the back of your neck as he tilted your head forward a little for access.

“Next time we make a stop, I think we’re going to have go get you some... things, hmm?” he remarked casually, just as his hand twisted.

The underwear snapped, slipping off of your hips and leaving you feeling oddly... vulnerable. You trusted Crosshair with your life, of course. But somehow... you felt so much more self-conscious around him than the others. Maybe it was the way you couldn’t read him as easily as the others? Or just the way he tended to not be as expressive as the others toward you? What was it that made you cherish his affection in such a different way compared to the others?

Crosshair nudged you forward, letting your hands land against the holotable for support. His other hand let go of your hip, only to slide your shirt up over your back before reaching back to unzip his trousers.

“You seemed to enjoy Tech’s experiments,” he noted, fingers sliding around your hip. His fingers spread you open, revealing how slick you were already. “And do you think you can take me too?”

You nodded faintly, then gasped as his cock slid against you. “I don’t think I heard you, kitten,” he drawled.

“Y-yes, I-I can,” you stammered, already shivering. Your body felt hypersensitive, both from your previous session with Tech as well as the way Cross somehow knew exactly how to touch you in every sensitive spot. Had he really observed you that much-?

He slid two fingers into your mouth, letting you suck on them as he kept a vise-like grip on your jaw. The movement was simple, but the way it made you feel so completely controlled, trapped between him and the table, made you go pliant. He handled your body as confidently as he did your Rifle form, tracing over you with a sort of muted reverence that you began to recognize as your memory drew parallels. The confidence was reassuring, as though he were subconsciously saying that you could trust him, that he knew how to handle you expertly, that you could leave it in his capable hands.

You whimpered around his fingers as your mind fully leaned into the reassurance, leaving you open and pliant to him.

“That’s right, Shiv.” Crosshair’s voice slid around you, through you. “Bend over.”

You obeyed almost without thinking, sliding down onto your elbows and then completely collapsing against the table. The cool metal pressed against your cheek, and your eyes fluttered closed as your breath shallowed. Your lips parted in a soft moan as you felt Cross start to slide into you.

For a moment, he only kept the tip in you, letting you flutter around him and adjust. Then he reached down and pulled both of your legs up, pushing them up on the table so you looked like you were in a sitting position, your legs both on one side and pulled against his hip. His fingers wrapped around your ankle like a vise, just as he thrust up into you.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table as you choked.

It was the first time Cross had actually penetrated you, and it was already about to drive you over the edge. His cock was long, and while not as thick as Tech, it definitely stretched you in different ways. He pressed up inside you in depths you didn’t know were possible. You swore you could taste him in your throat, he was so far inside you.

Bending over you, Cross started to mercilessly fuck up into you, barely giving you a moment to breathe. The way he had your legs together and bent up put a pressure on your clit that spiked every time he bottomed out; and at the pace he’d set, you could feel yourself careening closer to the edge. He grunted, his iron grasp on your hips definitely about to leave bruises littered over your skin.

His hand tangled in your hair, pulling so he could lower his mouth back onto your throat. Every other thrust was punctuated with a sloppy kiss to your neck, a contrast that only made you moan louder. Your body rocked with the brutal pace, and you could swear that Cross was molding you around his cock.

Somewhere in the jumble of your mind, his name managed to slur off of your tongue. You weren’t sure how or why, but your mind was starting to blur and fuzz, focusing solely on the way Crosshair’s body was hunched over yours, his hands controlling you so deftly, taking control over your body, your pleasure. Everything else faded into the background, until all you knew was him, and the way his fingers wrapped around your throat as he fucked you into the table.

You weren’t sure how long you drifted in the haze, but when you managed to focus, you found yourself gazing up into Crosshair’s dark eyes. His thin lips tilted in a smug smile as he noticed.

“Looks like someone’s back.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well then. How about you cum for me, hmm?” a hint of amused indulgence laced his tone. “You want it Shiv, don’t you? To cum all over me like the cock-dumb kitten you are?”

You whined, the pressure around your throat grounding you just enough to keep you present. The pleasure kept flowing through your body like a steady, unrelenting stream, smothering you. You did want it. Wanted to please him.

He leaned closer, not letting up his pace as his hips continued to snap up into you. “Such a good kitten,” he murmured, “with my fingers wrapped around your pretty little throat. Cum for me, Shiv. Show me how good I make you feel.”

It drove you off the cliff. Your orgasm seemed to burst from inside you, rippling up through your veins, your limbs, arching your body. It sent a wave of white heat washing through you, leaving you weak and completely lax in its wake. A sob spilled weakly from your lips as you opened tear-filled eyes to focus on him through the pleasure.

Crosshair let go of your throat, his jaw clenching as he stared down at your face. His hips started to stutter, his chest heaving with breath.

Swallowing thickly, you reached up and traced the tattoo that ringed his eye and trailed down his cheek. “Please, Cross,” you murmured dreamily. “Please, cum inside me.”

His shoulders locked as he snapped his hips into you one last time. A low groan hissed between his gritted teeth as he came, still buried deep inside you.

The liquid heat pooled inside you, and your eyelashes fluttered with contentment.

Crosshair's breath washed over your ear. "You're ours, Shiv," he murmured, voice husky with the high.

"Yours," you repeated obediently, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt. Sleepiness plucked heavily at your eyes, the aftermath of three sessions tugging insistently at your consciousness.

"Mmm, fresher first, kitten," Cross chided. His arms slid around you, lifting you up as he slid out of you.

You whined in protest, leaning against his shoulder, even though you knew he was right. Everything was too comfortable, the sleepiness heavy and warm.

"I'll take you to Wrecker's bunk once you're done. Clean up." Cross stayed unmovable, his voice dry as he set you down on your feet in front of the fresher.

But you still clung to his shirt for another moment, looking up at his angled face and dark eyes. A wistfulness flitted through you as you wished that you could stay with him for a little while longer. But you didn't want to ask, didn't want to bother him.

He raised an eyebrow, his hand on your waist steadying your weak legs. "Unless you want to start dripping everywhere, Shiv," he glanced pointedly down at you, "though I wouldn't complain." He smirked.

You swallowed, then looked down. "O-okay," you mumbled, shuffling into the fresher. Even as you sluggishly cleaned yourself though, you had to swallow back a few tears. You weren't entirely sure why, but something in you so desperately craved to be near Cross, to just receive some form of quiet reassurance from him through just a touch or word that he... he cared.

Shaking your head and smearing away the tears, you sucked in a steadying breath and walked back out of the fresher. You'd slowly lost some article of clothing to each of them along the way, so now all you had was the oversized T-shirt. Wobbling back out, you found yourself a bit startled to see Cross still standing there by the doorway, a toothpick clenched between his teeth.

He jacked himself off of the wall and approached you. Bending a little, he picked you up effortlessly and began walking down the hallway of the ship. Ducking into a room, he walked over to the bed.

Wrecker looked up in surprise. "Oh, Cross, Shiv." He grinned. His head tilted as he observed you. "You alright, Shiv?"

You nodded faintly, not trusting your voice not to break. Cross set you down on the bed, while Wrecker shifted over to make room. Then Cross rolled his eyes.

"Move, Wrecker."

"Alright, alright, I'm moving," Wrecker whined, shuffling to the back of his bunk. Lying down next to you, he reached out and gently pulled your back to his chest, wrapping his large arm around your waist. His warmth pressed up behind you, easing some of the pain that curled in your chest.

Then, to your surprise, Crosshair slid into the bunk in front of you. Wordlessly, eyes half-lidded, he scooted closer and ran his hand down your side.

Hesitantly, you squirmed closer, tangling your fingers in the chest of his shirt again. You could feel the warmth of his body under your fingertips, and you bit your lip and glanced up at him tentatively.

Something flickered through his eyes as he gazed down at you, his hand gripping your thigh. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head adamantly. "No!" you blurted, your face crumpling despite yourself. "No-" your voice cracked.

Cross sighed, his thumb stroking over your bare skin. "You seem hesitant around me."

Tears welled in your eyes. "No— I-I'm just never sure if... if I'm bothering you, and-" You sniffled, the ache in your chest deepening. "I—I look up to you so much, Cross," you confessed. "Every time you let me Transfer with you and- and I can be near you or with you, I... it makes me feel so safe. I just-" your shoulders hitched, "I want to make you happy, but I feel like... like I never know if it's okay to get close to you. I don't want to bother you..."

Crosshair pulled you closer, tucking your leg up over his hip so you fit against him like a puzzle piece. "You don't bother me, Shiv," he said, voice low. "We've all been... worried about you."

You nodded, pushing your face into his chest. You decided to take the risk and reached out over the Bond, asking for attention. The Bond lit with acknowledgement, more subdued than the others' but still undeniably there. Crosshair's attention was quietly intense, making up for its more subtle nature.

Shyly, you pushed across your feelings. The way you felt safe around him, the way you looked up to his stern concentration of his craft, his diligence in working, his attention to keeping his teammates safe. The way whenever his lithe fingers handled you, whether weapon or body, it soothed and comforted you regardless of what was happening. The way you wanted his approval, his attention.

Cheeks flushing, you peeked up at him from where you'd buried your face into his chest. A hint of a smile crossed his thin lips, and his dark eyes softened as they observed you.

Reaching up, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. "Good girl, cod'ika," he murmured.

Relief burst through you as he accepted your feelings. Even though all you felt over the Bond was a soft pulse of acknowledgement and a hint of pleased affection, it was more than enough. Cross didn't need to say much to make his point, and you realized better than before that every word he spoke to you was deliberate, honest. None of his words even in the heat of pleasure were idle or empty. You clung to the knowledge, soothed with the reassurance that Cross did care, in his own unique way.

"Thank you," you whispered shyly, knowing that he didn't have to reassure you. But he cared enough about you to listen, to answer.

Wrecker grumbled behind you, scooting forward so he pressed more tightly against your back. "Share a little, Cross," he groaned, "Shiv is soft and warm and I wanna feel."

Cross rolled his eyes, the moment broken. "Selfish."

"Hey!" Wrecker protested, leaning his chin against the top of your head. "You're the selfish one here-"

You giggled, tugging at Wrecker's hand to drape over both you and Crosshair. "Let me take a nap, Wrecker, and then I'll let you cuddle more," you promised. Letting out a wide yawn, you snuggled into both of them. "Love you," you murmured sleepily.

"Love you too, Shiv!" Wrecker squeezed you.

"Kar'taylir darasuum, cod'ika," Crosshair murmured in your ear.

You fell asleep to warmth, content.

Taglist:

@subbing-for-clones

@darkangel4121

@mo-i-ra

@dolphincommander

@alis-gore

@ladydiomede

@spp2011

@the-sad-batch

@anoushe01

@mavendeb

@cagrame

@makeup-n-turtles

@darkphoenix2332

@sunipostsstuff

@lady-aries

@gabile18

[deanwasalwaysbi]

I've gotta say, I find the concept of Bedlund trying to Ben-Hur Jensen absolutely hysterical. I'm just imagining Jensen getting a script and being like "Ben?? What's this? Is this gay? This seems gay????" and Ben just soothing him like a frightened horse.

Hahaha - Look it wouldn't be the first time. What is this verb we're working with? Okay. Strap in everyone. The Multi-Oscar-winning 1959 movie 'Ben Hur' had a bunch of gay subtext. The writer, the director, and the second lead actor all knew that Charlton Heston's character, Ben Hur, was gay. However, one person didn't find out until the 1990s: Charlton Heston. The consensus on set was "Don’t tell Charlton, because he’ll freak out." and when Heston found out in the ninties, freak out was exactly what he did. (x) [the movie may have gotten a reference from Misha back in season 6 (x)]

Whether this happened with Jensen on SPN depends on two things.

Was the character of Dean intentionally written as Bi and, if so, at what point did that become true?

Did anyone tell Jensen? Did he figure it out? if so, when?

I personally DO believe at this point, I really do, that Bedlund - Ben Hur'd Jensen. I think it was part of the writers room but not all of it, until it was. (Which RN I believe finally happened under Dabb.) I think Jensen wasn't in on it, until he was. So for me? I think he really was in the dark at one point. But at what point that changed? Probably only he can answer that question. and RN? He ain't talking.

In the meantime we can only look at things Jensen has said on the subject - Like this unbearably ambiguous GIF set from @nikadd. Was this tongue in cheek? Legitimate ignorance? You're killing me, Jensen. That cheeky lil smile, Jensen. Nvm - I'm going to kill you instead. It's for my own survival. No hard feelings right? You understand.

UH OH HERE COMES A CUT TO HIDE A LONG DERANGED POST...

We can look at the text for number 1 - and I do that uh - a lot - see the blog name #Dean Was Always Bi

For number 2 we can look over some points when we got clues from what Jensen thought was going on [regardless of whether they make sense based on his jacting or directorial choices I guess] and get left wondering whether at any point he felt pressured to lie for his career, for self protection, or to protect the narrative from the network: 

2010 - 'We're missing the gay angel' (x) (Season 5 gag reel) (x) “Sorry man, not what the show’s about.” Jared: One of the good and bads about playing the straight [non-comedic] character on the show… Jensen: What wait? I’ve been playing him so wrong

2012 / S8 - Trenchcoat - Jensen talking about how sometimes they change the lines because they're way too gay. Calls Cas a third brother

2012 - "What's Destiel?" Ben Edlund: That’s some weird shit. Jensen: Is this something that you created, Ben? Ben: You don’t want any part of that.

“Don’t ruin it for everyone now” “I still don’t know what the question was. I’m going to pretend I don’t know what the question was.”

2013 @ JIB, re Dean’s reaction to Aaron’s flirting in the season 8 episode Everybody Hates Hitler,  (x)

“And the scene wasn’t written to be that kind of - I mean - It was written to be awkward.  Ben Edlund wrote the - my favorite line in that scene was ‘carry on . citizen’ that was - I almost couldn’t say that with a straight face I was laughing so hard.  But it was - you know - it was comedy. It was a comedic moment in the show and fortunately Dean gets a lot of the comedic moments in the show and it was just, you know, Ben was poking fun at the fact that - you know, how can we make this very kind of manly, heterosexual guy uncomfortable - uh -you know, or  or have him back on his heels and throw him off his game a little bit.”

The thing is - Bedlund and Phil Sgriccia made very clear on the commentary track that THEY saw this scene as a 'romantic comedy kind of fluster' "This potential for love in all places."

Ben Edlund calling the writer’s room a boy’s club in 2013 (x)

Misha Collins telling Destiel fans they aren’t Crazy in 2013 after some executives said they were (x).

2014 Jensen says he was glad there wasn’t much Dean and Cas in season 9  - HA Hah HAH (x)

“I think the whole Cas and Dean thing has gotten out of hand”  “I don’t think there’s anything secret to their relationship even though a lot of people wish there was” REMINDER - that season we got the nightstands acknowledgement and “play him like a jilted lover” and the “he dumped me James” cut and -

I certainly know that Misha and I don’t play that. SIGH. they Ben Hur'd Jensen.

2014 - the fan fiction joke - 10.05

“I didn’t have a positive reaction, The first time in I think 200 scripts I went and sat down in the showrunners office and said, ‘What in god’s name are you doing?! Why? I need to understand why this is happening.’” “[Carver] gave very eloquent answers and did a great job of explaining why we were doing what we were doing, I guess I had been aware of this ‘fan fiction’ for a while and I felt like maybe if I ignored it, it would eventually go away. When I read it in the script that is what I do for a living and is my work—I’m very protective of these characters and the story and I think we have a right to be—I wasn’t angry. I just wanted to understand why and what was the message we were ultimately sending with this script and story. By the end of it, I felt good and it gave me all the confidence I needed. It was better than I could have ever hoped.”

But then there's Jensen in 2015 talking about all of Dean’s bromances. (x)  [gifs at the top] Could go either way - starting to figure it out? or No?

What had changed if anything? the entire Crowely season 10 story line?  This was July 2015 - the same day as the SDCC 2015 panel where Misha talked about Destiel   (x @ 13) Carver and Dabb were there - 

By this time Jensen and Misha were nominated for a teen choice award for best chemistry against various tv couples (and one ensemble cast, but the award nomination did NOT include Jared) .... Misha and Jensen would go on to WIN this award one month after the panel.

At the Panel Rob and Rich ask the question: “You two have branded yourselves as TV’s greatest team since, ... idk who.... Ernie and Bert so.”  [Misha says to Jensen & Jared, half not on the microphone: “I really didn’t expect them to throw us under the bus.”] “are we going to see that continue? Is the Castiel Dean relationship still aflutter and still growing as we move into season 11?”  Jeremy Carver: “Ish.” [mocking from panel ensues] “Yes. Of course. I mean Yeah. Absolutely. Yeah. There’s no doubt.”

Jensen Directs 11x03 and the choreo mimics Goodbye stranger (x)

2016 - Jensen: Dean could have a huntress, but you’d kill her.

Jan 2017 Con the infamous - no hedge - harsh - “Destiel doesn’t exist.” (x)

I would hope that if he knew he wouldn’t have been so harsh with it.  So by that point either he still didn’t know - OR - to him ‘Destiel’ was specifically about internet porn/sex and not like - the potential for feelings / a relationship.  It makes me think about something Misha had actually said, around 2013, “It’s called ‘Destiel’ and it’s about the romantic interludes between Dean and Castiel.” (x)

2017 - jib8 Jensen called Dean a lover of the ladies

May 2017 - After filming the end of season 12:

2018 - Misha confirms he and Jensen have talked about Destiel (x) - also 2018: The Bisexual Dean essay "? No." (Oh god was this really this recent?! I can't deal with this.)

Well. SOMETHING happened in 2019. cuz here it comes

2019 - "Dean has no taste, clearly." 2019 - 'So, tell us just a little bit about what you're most excited to tackle with your character this final season.' "Cas. Just like a full football form tackle."

Look at this face he gave Dean when Cas told him he loved him and tell me he wasn't playing into it here. You can't. (x)

[sinnamonrasinslut]

The Ease With Which We Hurt [I] ICorpse Husband x Fem!ReaderI

A/N: You guys. I have never simultaneously loved AND hated a piece that I wrote. I really don’t know how I feel about this, but I promised myself last year that I wouldn’t overthink my writing, so here we are. This is part one of most likely four, but we’ll see about that. Thank you to everyone in my inbox who gave me ideas to turn this into a multi chapter fic! They’re all coming, I promise :)

SYNOPSIS: Corpse loves her, she loves Corpse. But both of them are too dumb to realize it, and too afraid to admit it. 

It started, like most good things in his life, out of the blue.

He met her three years ago. Well, not met, but befriended her three years ago when her podcast was just taking off. He remembers sending her a DM about how great her work was, remembers her being gracious in her praise of his own narrations after and he remembers talking to her well into the night until she fell asleep. The rest, to Corpse, is history.

And yet, all he knows of her is a voice, a name, and the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. she chooses to wear a mask every time they FaceTime, just for the formality of the entire ‘faceless’ situation. She’s told him she thinks it’s ironic, how she feels like he knows her inside out, and she’s still afraid to show him her face. It’s not like corpse can blame her. She doesn’t even know his name, let alone what he looks like, and it’s a miracle she hasn’t filed him away as some no face creep by this point. 

But she hasn’t. She’s still here, after three years of being her friend, and almost a year of seeing her eyes and convincing himself that she’s his friend, damnit, she’s still here. It’s already a lot more than he can ask for.

He’s been holding himself back from falling in love. Or rather, he’s been in love for as long as he can remember, but he's been adamant on denying it; because he knows how this goes. It’s never gone well for him in the past. And he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s afraid. But sometimes, she tells him things that make his heart break, just out of the realization of how absolutely fucking stupid he's being, holding back from her.

He’s convinced that when he dies, she’s going to be the light at the end of his tunnel. That heaven means nothing more to him than a place in her world, however small, however insignificant, as long as he gets to see her eyes for the rest of eternity.

Every part of corpse tells him that it's love. But he tries to push it away, suppress his own feelings till he's nothing but a walking contradiction, overflowing with voices that only say her name.

But he’s tired. And he's scared. Because he’s been down that road before, opened himself up to people who haven’t liked what they saw and left with pieces of him he’s not sure how to tape back. He’s unsure if he's willing to let her try.

So, he settles for a small corner of her world, a little piece of her existence that gives him life, and every time he talks to her, hands flailing as she animatedly tells another story, he pushes the yearning to the back of his head till it crawls down and clings to his windpipe, unsure and immeasurable, and he can’t speak anymore without choking. But then she says things that make his heart jump into his throat, and then he’s choking but for entirely different reasons.

“What would you do if I was gone?”

He doesn’t mean it like that. Well, he does, a little bit, but his brain isn’t taking over every part of his body trying to convince him he’s unwanted, so he doesn’t mean it like that. He’s only curious, maybe in need of a little reassurance. And nobody does reassurance better than her.

She doesn’t say anything for a very long moment. Corpse knows the gist of her impending answer but the pause still blooms unnecessarily in his chest. But it’s not like they haven’t done this before.

“I’d write about you.”

“Huh?”

She only huffs a laugh at his confusion. She pulls a blanket closer around her and props up her phone to rest against what he assumes is a wall.

“You’re not easy to forget, Corpse,” her voice is soft, truthful without flattery, provides comfort without justification. “if you were gone, I’d write about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s the least I’d need to cope.”

It’s not what he thought he’d hear, but it’s becoming increasingly clear to him that it’s exactly what he needed. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her. 

“Besides,” she continues, hair falling in her face as she adjusts the blanket, “there is no place for me in a world without you in it.” 

 And he physically feels his heart stop and clench in his chest. The thought of meaning this much to anyone, to her in particular, is more than he knows how to handle. So, he doesn’t follow that up with a quip, no teasing laughter, no suggestive, exaggerated winks that only he can see. He only lets himself bask in the warmth of her honesty, lets her smile at him in that way only she does, the way that makes him freeze and ache and crumble.

He chooses not to talk after that, settles for listening to her tell stories about her childhood. Her voice is the purest thing he’s ever heard, he’d hear her talk till the world ended if he could, and the sweet lilt of her voice lulls him to sleep hours after she’s hung up the phone.

He doesn’t get to talk to her for almost two weeks after that. He misses her a little, but he keeps that to himself, and instead, tags her under dumb twitter memes and sends her pictures of cats that he’s saved specifically for times like these, and another video of two geckos fighting on a tree captioned ‘u and me’ .

There’s no place for me in a world without you in it.

The words wrap around his ribs like a noose, tightening by the second. Some days, when his heart is fast enough to beat out of his ribcage, it grounds him just as much as it hurts. But when she’d said it to him, it passed through him like a train wreck, distorting all semblance of control he’d convinced himself he had.

He knows it’s ridiculous, but he loves her. She’s only a voice through his phone and eyes on his screen and he has no clue what the rest of her looks like, but he’d be damned if he lets himself deny it one more time. He loves her. And that’s the most terrifying thought he’s ever entertained.

It doesn’t take long after that realization takes root, for him to send her a picture. He doesn’t let himself think too much about it. Taking pictures of himself is still new to him, but he tries his best. Don't think about it too much, he reminds himself, and unsurprisingly, it's her voice in his head that does all the soothing. He captions it something stupid, more out of habit than anything else (my hair makes me look like Dora the exploraH), with his name across his forehead and ‘Dora’ in brackets beside it. 

Momentarily, he wonders if he’s ever asked her if she even wants to see his face. (He has, and he distantly remembers her agreeing as long as he’s comfortable with it.)

He hits send before he has the chance to stop and think. 

Then he waits. 

Her response is quicker than he’s prepared for, her name flashing across the facetime request on his phone. He’s giggling before he even picks it up. 

“CORPSE, WHAT THE FUCK!” 

For a very long moment, they just stare, taking each other in. This is his endgame, corpse thinks, he’s never going to need to show anyone his face after this, nothing, no one will matter as much. 

With a jolt, he realizes that she’s not wearing her mask. He can see her, all of her, and that on its own should be enough to take him out.

And then she smiles. 

If there was any doubt in his mind before about how head over heels he is, she’s taken it out of his mind and stomped it to the ground. He’s not the poet in this friendship, but he’s assured he could write entire paragraphs about the way she smiles. And he tells her exactly that. 

“I’m curious to see how that would fit with fine lass nice ass cat ears and she uwu,” she teases, eye twinkling with mirth, “but I'm sure you’ll figure it out.” 

He’s both amazed and amused at how quickly they go from fawning to bantering. But perhaps that’s the thing about her that feels so familiar.

“I will write a song about you baby, don’t tempt me.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“It’s a confession,” he shrugs, suddenly shy, unsure of where to lead with this. Thankfully, she interjects before he has to say anything else. 

“That’s an awfully bold confession for a man called Corpse.”

“I’m also awfully alive for a man called Corpse, but you don’t see me complaining.” Awfully alive and not enough husband, he wants to say, but he keeps that to himself. 

“You complain about being alive everyday, Mister Husband,” she counters and Corpse groans, dropping his head into his hands. 

“I say that to you in confidence,” he grits out, playfully glazing at her.

“You also tell about a million people on stream, I’m not special,” she laughs. 

“You are very special to me.” His voice is soft, shy, almost afraid to tell her the things he’s saying, “I did say I’d write a song about you. Pretty special if you ask me.”

She hums, taking a huge gulp of water and nodding enthusiastically. 

“Correct, me, the cat girl and the e girl. What’s the next single, Corpse? Faceless Girls are ruining my life?” 

“You’re a rascal,” he chides as a familiar warmth settles around his heart, and grips. 

“It is one of my finer qualities, yes.” 

Distantly, some part of his brain registers that this is the first time he’s seen her, but there is no sense of hesitation in his head about her. It feels just like it always has, with her on the phone saying the silliest things, and him responding with equal enthusiasm. This is the way they’ve always been. 

While she talks, hands animatedly moving around, Corpse allows himself a small moment of reprieve to think. He knows he loves her, but he wonders briefly if it’s too soon to be in love with her (he concludes that probably it is, given that she remains unaware of his feelings, but he finds that it doesn’t really matter)

Because while Corpse loves her, he’s sure he doesn't know how to love her. Doesn’t know her favourite flowers even if he knows her coffee order by heart, doesn’t know her ideal date even if he’s memorized every poem she loves. 

The meanest parts of his brain tell him she deserves better, and he knows they’re wrong. But a small part of him can’t help but dwell. He’d rather have her and her unnecessary hand movements in his life as his friend than not at all. So he pushes away his feelings for another day, and just listens to her talk. 

Corpse is perfectly content with that. 

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: more Billy/Mind Flayer shenanigans, more Y/n being Not Straight™️ and slight, whatever the huffy, whiney hell Hopper was during a majority of the season

📝: yall, idk how to describe hairstyles so I'm gonna clear it up now; the hairstyle Y/n is doing on El is the coil ponytail she wears at the end in That Scene™️ 🥲🚚👋📝🛣

Yes, I regret the whole "sisters" failsafe I put in specifically to stop myself. But as it turns out, no I cannot suppress the gay. So innocent, mutual pining ahead! 🥳🎉🌈

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

A pair of sock-covered feet bounce happily on the carpeted floor as Madonna's Angel blasts through the radio on the dresser. Max jumps back and forth on El's bedroom carpet, singing into the hairbrush she had found on the nightstand. Beside her, sitting on the bed is the girl herself, sporting her new colorful look; engrossed in a selection of teen magazines that are splayed out before her.

"You must be an angel,"

El bobs her head along with the tune, careful of Y/n's hand weaving through her hair from where she's kneeled behind her on the bed. She grins up at Max before going back to her work, her lips moving as she silently sings along.

"I can see it in your eyes,"

Y/n finishes the last coil behind El's left ear, and pulls it together with the other, merging her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. After she tightens the bright blue scrunchie one last time, she mutters a defeated, "Alright. I tried," before she maneuvers around El across the mattress and allows herself to fall back on the right side of the bed, her head propped up on the rows of pillows. She grabs a magazine, boredly sifting through it while El delicately feels around the back of her head with a smile, admiring Y/n's work.

"Full of wonder and surprise,"

El's attention quickly returns to the magazine in her hands when she flips the page. She has to turn it sideways to see the whole thing. A young man, who El guessed to be just a little older than Steve, was smiling back at her.

Max's singing and dancing come to a slow when she notices El lingering on the page. With a chuckle, she discards the hairbrush from where she found it and kneels beside the bed.

"Oh, you found Ralph Macchio," Max simpers.

"Macchio?" El asks with a smile.

"Yeah," Max nods. "he's the Karate Kid,"

Both and El and Y/n jump when Max suddenly cuts the air in a mock karate chop and yells, "Hai-yah!"

They giggle and Y/n just rolls her eyes playfully. Particularly, at what comes next.

"He's so hot, right?" Max asks.

An amused grin glues itself to Y/n's face as her eyes peek out over the top of magazines to catch El's reaction. Y/n's smile spreads, buried under the pages when she sees El's face lit up in a blush.

"I bet he's an amazing kisser, too," Max says, drawing out a funny look in El's eyes. "Hey, uh,"

Y/n finds her eyes drawn to Max when she feels the old mattress dip a little under her weight. She notices a funny, almost intrigued look on her face.

"is Mike a good kisser?" She asks.

Y/n lets out an involuntarily "Blech!" At the question, discarding her magazine back to the pile with her nose scrunched up in disgust despite the smile still on her lips.

El laughs at Y/n, lightly shoving her knees that sat propped up above her as she shoots her a smile. "Not 'blech',"

Y/n has to readjust her head on the pillows to gawk up at El properly, a funny look hidden in her eyes.

"Wait, so is he like, actually," Y/n makes another face, failing to get through the sentence with a straight face. She laughs a little, putting a mocking tone in her voice. "'good' at kissing?"

El doesn't answer right away, much too confused with the direction this conversation had gone. She blushes again, giving her awaiting friends a bashful shrug.

"I don't know. He's my first boyfriend,"

Max is quick to correct her, but she does so gently. "Ex-boyfriend,"

El's face falls.

But Max is also quick to console her. She lands a gentle hand on El's shoulder, her voice going soft.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Okay?" El still doesn't seem too sure. "He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness."

Y/n subconsciously fiddles with the ring pop still on her finger, a thin sheet of plastic still covering the candy diamond.

"I guarantee you, him and Lucas are, like, totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now," Max's face scrunches up as she mocks the aforementioned exes. "They're like, 'Oh, I hope they take us back!'"

Y/n laughs, her left hand lightly smacking Max's arm, grabbing her attention.

"Yeah, but, Mike's probably more like," Max fights a sudden laugh when she catches the knowing look in Y/n's eyes. "'I hope they take us back! They have to—'"

Neither Max nor Y/n can fight the grin breaking out on both their faces as they finish in perfect sync.

-"take us back! Nyeh-nyeh-NYEH!"

Once again delightfully confused, El's stare travels between her newest best friend and her oldest; a warm feeling burrowing deep in her chest and gut, her stomach aflutter as she laughs with them.

"God, what I wouldn't give to see the look on their stupid faces," Max says, shaking her head wistfully.

El goes quiet, something neither of her friends miss.

"What is it?" Max asks.

That seems to snap everything into place, and Y/n props herself up on her hands. There's enough mischief in her eyes to match El's, and she quirks a brow.

"Wait. Are you serious?"

El only smirks, shrugging her shoulders.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Max asks, only to find herself under two impish stares.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El sits cross-legged against her dresser, the radio switched to static sitting just above her head. In her hands is the multi-colored headband Y/n had gifted to her over the holidays when her hair started to fall in her face. They both knew it could also double as a comfortable, makeshift blindfold in case she ever found herself traveling to the void again.

As she prepared to do now.

She hooks the headband over her head, pulling it down over her eyes as Y/n and Max took a seat.

"Is this really gonna work?" Max asks excitedly from where she's perched on the edge of the bed.

El nods, and Max's face lights up in awe.

"Holy shit, this is insane-!"

"Max."

"Right, quiet. I'm sorry,"

Y/n chuckles up at her noiselessly, completely understanding the excitement of it all. Particularly, since she had never once witnessed El demonstrating these powers unless it had been necessary.

Then came the waiting part.

Y/n had forgotten about the waiting.

It was all they could do. Wait as they watch El draw in a deep breath, allowing her mind to reach out to the person it had most.

She feels the imaginary water at her feet first, as she always did. It didn't take her as long as it used to to fine-tune the distorted voices cutting in and out, much like what she found her radio to do sometimes. But she did it soon enough.

She's back in the void, for the first time in a long while.

Part of her was worried it would be harder without as much practice as she got last year, but it wasn't.

The image that lay ahead of her was clear, the voices even clearer.

"What did I do wrong? What could I have done wrong?"

Mike.

He was laying on the couch. The one from his basement. El recognized it immediately.

And he wasn't alone, that much she  had suspected.

"Do I have to go through this again?" Lucas asks, sounding tired.

He was pacing around the couch, rubbing his face. Will was with them, he was hovering over the small table she had sat at only years ago.

"I see them," El says.

Max lowers herself to the carpet, sitting next to Y/n who leans in curiously.

"What are they doing?" Y/n asks.

"Eating."

The crunch of Dorito chips Mike had shoved into his mouth was loud enough to echo out across the entire void. He continues through an obnoxious mouthful.

"I just don't understand what I did to deserve this,"

El has neared them now, and she turns her head curiously to Will when he scoffed. He looked frustrated, and he sounded it too. But El could tell he was trying to fight it for the sake of his friends' feelings.

"Look, it sucks that that happened," he says. "But why don't you guys try and take your mind off of it for-"

"For the last time, Will. No! Not now," Lucas says, turning away just in time to miss the boy's shoulders slump. He back to Mike, releasing a heavy sigh. "You didn't do anything, Mike. That's my whole point. You're the victim here."

El's eyes fall back to Mike, not all sure about what she was feeling.

"I know," he cries out. "It's just, why is she treating me this way?"

"Mike-"

"I don't know." Frustrated, he shakes his head. "What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

"Mike, stop it!" Will has to yell to be heard, but his friends eventually turn their attention his way. "you know what you did wrong!"

They watch him carefully, as does El.

Just grateful to have their attention, he softens just a notch "You messed up, alright? But there's just not much you can do right now,"

"He's right," Lucas sighs, bending over to move Mike's feet out of to make room before taking a seat. "I mean, we told the truth and everything,"

Will let out a bitter laugh. "No, you didn't! You got caught! You told them you were shopping for them, but that's it. You still kept lying about your Nana,"

Max and Y/n watch El carefully, the only indication something had happened came from her angered sigh.

"They lied about Nana," she says finally.

"Oh, I knew it," Max hissed.

Y/n merely placed her forehead in her hands tiredly as she waited for more information.

"But we still tried! That's gotta count for something," Mike cries, stuffing more food into his mouth. "I mean, shouldn't that count for something?"

"Mike, relax. Just... relax," Lucas sighs into his hands yet again, clearly exasperated. "And stop asking rational questions."

"I know, I know. You're right," Mike sighs. His expression quickly turned bitter as he sent his friends a sour look. "Because women act on emotion and not logic,"

"Precisely," Lucas nods. "It's a totally different species."

El's breathing grows deeper and for a moment the pair of friends fear the worst. But the truth was, while El didn't quite exactly know what they were saying, she knew it was foul.

"They say we are 'species'."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

"'Emotion, not logic."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

Will shifted on his feet, looking unsure as to what to say, or if he should at all.

"Will is upset,"

Y/n scoffs, looking between Max and El. "He should be if they're saying that shit." She fires, worry briefly taking over her anger over the doubtful thought seeded in her mind. Quickly she leaned forward.

"Wait, he wasn't saying that was he?"

Relief sweep over her when El shakes her head.

She finds her eyes on him again, looking as if he was trying too hard to fit in and not say the wrong thing. El hadn't known him for terribly long, but she knew enough to realize this shouldn't be normal.

"Guys," he says, his eyes darting to the small table he had been setting up. "Come on, it's ready. You already said you'd play a month ago when Dustin got back. I've been planning ever since! And I really think it'll help take your mind off of all this."

Lucas groans.

"Will! We already told you. Not right now," he shakes his head as if scolding a small child.

"They are upset with him."

"Why?" Y/n pressed, sharing an equally concerned look with Max.

"They broke up with you, what else is there to talk about?"

"Easy for you to say, you still have a girlfriend!" Mike throws back.

"'Easy for Will to say,'" El repeats.

Y/n could only imagine what they were putting Will through right now. Or just what her words could mean. Her guilt from having to cancel weighed heavier and heavier.

"He says..."

They all watch, El included, as all his frustrations boil over.

"Well, none of that matters now, does it?!"

Shocked at his outburst, Lucas and Mike break into matching, sour grins nevertheless.

"Then join us, Will," Mike says, sharing a smirk with Lucas. "Join us in trying to figure the greatest mystery of all; the female species!"

"What? What's he saying?" Y/n asked.

But she receives no answer. El had fallen quiet.

El cocks her head, her glare thrown to each boy like daggers, feeling an anger of her own. As well as a protectiveness.

That didn't last long, however. Not moments after, Mike seemed to be challenging his own foul behavior. His mouth opened up wide, letting loose a deep and billowing belch.

"Dude," Mike laughed lazily, gesturing around him as he grinned up at his friends. "You can smell the nacho cheese,"

El recoiled, her upper lip hooking in a grimace both in and out of the void.

She's relieved to see even one of them disgusted by his antics — Will, but it doesn't change her annoyance. But it was better, and far less confusing than Lucas who broke out in a sly grin.

"I get that beat,"

"What?" Mike mumbles in between picking his teeth with his tongue.

Baffled, El looks to Will again whose face pales. He quickly shakes his head, his words pleading.

"Oh, no."

"No, Lucas," Mike says, jumping in. "No!"

El watches curiously as Lucas's grin stretches wider — "No, Lucas!" — and he lifts his right leg — "Lucas! LUCAS!" — and...

El stumbles back in shock when the sound hits suddenly. It echoed louder than the burp had — far louder — and only grows louder as Lucas lifts his leg higher.

El rips the headband off her head to reveal her widened eyes, her shoulders moving and falling in a panicked-like state.

Never blinking, her mouth still wrenched open in shock, she turns to gape at her friends.

"What happened?"

She didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" Y/n pressed, fearing the worst.

She breaks out in a grin, a fit of sudden giggles sent her slouching into the carpet and her head landing in Y/n's lap. Max and Y/n welcomed her reaction with open arms, her infectious laughter spreading to them despite the utter bewilderment they were feeling. Y/n looked down at her friend, trying not to laugh.

El managed to peel her eyes open long enough to see Y/n's crooked smile poking into her view of the ceiling and she loses it all over again.

"What?" She laughs.

"What happened?"

El clutched her aching sides. Every time she tried to speak, the silliness of it all stole her words all over again.

It had been completely revolting and

angering. But it was also the most fun she'd ever had in that horrible place. This also being why it was so hard to wipe the smile from her face.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Will stumbled back as far away as possible from the massive stink cloud he was sure would drown him. Mike had stumbled off the couch, waving at the air as Will buried his nose in his shirt.

"Oh, man," Mike groans. "what the hell, Lucas?"

"Come on, that was impressive,"

"So was Will," Mike shoots him a knowing smirk. "Finally realizing the frustrations of the female species,"

"That wasn't what I said," he shakes his head, growing angrier by the second. "I said it doesn't matter if I have a girlfriend or not right now cause I can't see her! Both of us have to clean up your messes and it's the same reason why we missed our six month anniversary last month,"

Both Mike and Lucas wince. "Congrats?"

Will sighs, throwing himself in his seat at the D&D table.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The cabin's front door was nearly thrown off its hinges as an inebriated Hopper stumbled across the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him, shaking the room as he huffed and puffed. Several times he nearly lost his balance just standing still, but despite the blurred vision and numbed senses he could still make out the muffled radio from his daughter's room.

That wasn't good. At least, that's all Hopper could comprehend right away before he pieced together why; that always meant Mike was here.

And the door was shut.

"Hey!" No response. "Hey!"

The ache of rejection and embarrassment he had been feeling all night had been drowned in bottles of wine from Enzo's, numbing a great deal when Joyce had failed to show. But it couldn't quite extinguish his anger, and that was all that was left now. And he had no problem channeling that into this moment.

In his drunken state, he manages to march across the living room without stumbling into anything and his voice rises behind his gritted teeth.

"When I say three inches, three-"

A small yelp and a short burst of hot hair stinging his sweating skin and knocking over the lamp on the desk was the first thing he registered after the boom of the door being busted open. Before him, was the sight of El and her friends lounging across her floor, flipping through magazines and gawking up at him.

He realized then what had happened judging by Y/n drawing in a deep breath, and dropping her head into her hands. She had clearly been especially startled being so close to the door and had inadvertently created a mini shockwave that swept across every loose item in the room. He could hear her cursing into her hands as Max glared up at him.

"Do you knock?! Jeez!"

"Yeah!" El repeated. "Jeez!"

At that moment, Hopper couldn't remember a time he had back-pedaled so quickly. He could hear his slurred words stringing together a nervous apology.

"Wo-wo-oh, hey," he gulps. "I'm sorry."

The three girls continue to gawk up at him from the floor.

"I thought that, uh-,"

"If you were expecting Mike, he isn't here," Y/n said.

"We wanted to have a sleepover," El says, still beyond excited at the thought of having one since Y/n told her about them almost a year ago. "Is that...okay?"

"Yeah,"

The word fell out of Hopper's mouth before he could will it, his entire demeanor melting away in relief.

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah," he said, his voice going higher than normal as he stumbled through the tension. "Your parents know you guys are here?"

"Yup," Max says, and Y/n nods.

Blazing through the past few moments, or at least attempting to, Hopper waves his arm dismissively and his slurring intensifies.

"Uh, yeah, it's cool. Yeah. That's-That's really cool."

This was great! His "heart-to-heart" had worked. At least the way he did it. He couldn't count on his hands the number of times he had asked El about the others; silently hoping she'd take the hint and get him out of long, awkward discussion. But she never had, she only went on about Mike, and the more the summer stretched on the less he heard about Y/n or—

"Did you need something?" Max asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He hadn't realized he had been just standing there, swaying slightly and zoning out.

He was overstepping. He could see that now. And not just because of the embarrassment written all over his daughter's face.

"No, no," he says quickly, shaking his head and making a lazy grab for the doorknob. "Uh, I'll leave. I'll just let you... I'll leave you..."

His voice trails off before being swallowed completely when the door shuts with a click. For a moment, Hopper just stands there processing it all.

A smirk hooked his lips.

No Mike.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Pride Month Resources and Links

168 Ways to Donate in Support of Black Lives & Communities of Color

Save The Tears: White Woman's Guide

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taglist:

@dickkwad @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @peeperparkour @ba-responds ​ @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @daughter-of-the-stars11 ​ @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl ​ @nightbu-g @lozzybowe @gizmofishersupremacy @spiderbitch69420

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

[asa-sauce]

those forgotten things

❀ haikyuu!! x (ukai’s kid!) reader

flavor: honey mustard  

warnings: none!

a/n: hi, sorry for the long wait! if you're coming from my tiktok, thank you for the continued support! i don’t know who the specific love interest is going to be, so for now it’s basically the entire karasuno team x reader.

note: ukai is your adoptive father. and this takes place at very very end of season 1/very beginning of season 2. you are 16.

+ Your dad, Ukai Keishin, forgets his water bottle at the convenience store before practice. You decide to bring it to him... Big mistake.

The bell on the door announces your presence with a gentle chime, and the cool air coming from the ancient air conditioner hits your face.  It's a heavenly relief from the sizzling heat, and you thank heaven for the store being so close to school.

"Hi dad! I'm home!" You call out, but no answer comes.

"Where is he?" Misaki asks, head bobbing up and out like a buoy. There's a prep in her voice now, like a child at an amusement park.

"He's probably in the back or something, I don't know." There's no one else in the store.

She sets her heavy, multi-key chained school bag next to the chair, and you notice that the normally happy face of the plush bunny keychain is smushed against the table leg, smile distorted into a frown.

She starts her jaunty browsing around the store, weaving in and out of each aisle. You do the same, not knowing what you're in the mood for, and meet her at the candies and gum.

"Seriously, Y/n, how do you not find your dad attractive?" The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself quickly scanning the front of the store for any customer that might have just walked in. Did she really just ask that?

You swivel around in a slow, dramatic way, giving her an incredulous look that just about asks that question. She looks at you with that casual—but all too serious—charm, as if she had simply asked what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.

"'Cause he's my dad." She rolls her eyes, dissatisfied with the answer, then juts her head forward just enough to add more emphasis on her next words.

"But he adopted you. You aren't blood-related."

You stare at her. She can't be completely serious, right?

You and Misaki met last year on the first day of school. Meeting her was like something out of an anime. The rambunctious airhead meets the quiet, down-to-earth girl who just can't say no to people.

She literally proclaimed your friendship to the world on that first day of school.

So this: her apparent infatuation for your dad, is very far out there, yes. Yet in retrospect, it's nothing beyond her character.

"Jeez, you're weird," you say, deciding to smile it off. You turn to grab a neon blue bag of chips from the shelf beside you. Misaki laughs, head thrown back, in a maniacal way, and disappears behind the aisle end. "Did you get your food yet?"

"Yeah." She's chosen a popsicle today, already unwrapping it while she continues to peruse the aisles more, just for fun. Her fingers drag along the underside of each plastic price tag, making a clackclackclackclackclak sound that's almost ominous.

"How much is it?" You ask, to which she tells you. You go over to the cash register and take out the appropriate change from your wallet, placing each bill and coin into the correct spaces. Even though you're a member of the family-owned store, a business is still a business, and the small ones like this especially need anything and everything they can get to thrive.

Misaki sits at the table for a few minutes, and you guess that she's waiting for your dad to come back out. She's slouched over her brightly lit cellphone screen, her thumbs continually pattering as she responds to all her messages.

It's awkward.

Even though you and Misaki have gotten pretty close since meeting each other, those uncomfortable silences still sometimes appear.

But then she begins talking about a boy she's been texting these past few weeks, mostly talking it out with herself then seeking your advice. You give simple reactions, and comment when she expects it. A simple 'he did not!' or 'ugh!' will satisfy her.

Of course it's not all that one-sided. She talks, you listen; you talk, she responds. And quite frankly, you don't mind it.

But then the silence emerges once again, until she lets out a big, audible, intentional sigh and stands up.

"Well, I gotta head home, my mom's getting fussy about something again." She shoves her phone in the side pocket of her bag, short hair whipping around as she hoists her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Misaki." You can feel the breath of relief beginning to grow inside your lungs as she collects her things and heads for the door.

"Yup. Tell your dad I said hello!"

"I will."  

No you won't.

And with a final automated jingle of the door chime, she leaves. You wait until the white bunny keychain on her bag is no longer in view to release that breath of relief.

And then, you smile.

"Alright, dad! You can come out now!" you announce, your head tipped back towards the blue curtains. In a comical way, just the face of your father appears, with tufts of yellow hair sneaking out behind him. With his eyes wide he scans the room, side to side, searching for any trace of your friend.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she is."

The rest of him appears then.

Ukai sits himself on the slanting, rickety stool behind the counter that is literally almost on its last legs, with his feet propped up. It's his way of "intimidating" all the "shitheads" that come through after school—is what he says.

You hop onto the counter, splitting open the chip bag. A puff of flavored air travels up into your nose.

"How was that English quiz today?" Ukai asks, catching a whiff as well while you pop the first chip into your mouth.

"Good. I got a 97." you reply after swallowing.

"That's my girl."

You hum in response, munching on another chip. Looking into the bag, you spot a wider, saltier chip that curls at one end. It takes up half the amount of chips, you realize as you take it. It should be a crime, you think, to fill up more than half of the bag with air.

"I'm gonna leave here a little earlier for practice tonight. A few of the boys wanted me to help them with a couple new combinations."

He swings his legs off the counter and sits up, mumbling something about wishing he had taken a nap before walking back into the house to change.

You go through the motions of unpacking your school bag, decideding to work on math first.

You spread your textbooks and papers out on the counter, an organized mess as you like to say, of calculus.

Your pencil moves rapidly across the page, the little flower charm on dangling back and forth with each squiggle.

Your dad leaves around ten minutes later, but not before giving you a quick kiss on the head. The sun is still high and proud, and has no intention to descend until an hour or more later.

It's your favorite time of day. The sun falls through the glass doors in a way that makes the entire world seem just a little more fanciful. It's usually quiet in the store, and after an entire day of constant conversations from you and those around, you can't help but yearn for these peaceful moments. It's entirely why you agreed to take over Ukai's shifts ever since he began coaching Karasuno's male volleyball team.

If anyone comes in at this hour though, they're likely to be a student from Karasuno, but in about five minutes the store's most frequent customer, Etsu, will stop by, and will no doubt be mewling for a meat bun.

You plop down on the seat behind the counter, taking a moment to your self to breathe. You tug at the base of your long ponytail, releasing your unruly hair from the confines of your hair tie. Although you aren't directly related to Ukai, over the years you've inherited parts of his look. One of those being your 'lion's mane' (as your grandmother calls it).

Ukai had adopted you when you were ten, but the six years you've known each other feel like sixteen. You don't remember much about your biological family, and for privacy reasons Ukai doesn't know any more than you do.

You have no harsh feelings towards them--no contempt or ill-wishes for leaving their own daughter. Of course, there are days when you wondered where they are, and what life might be like if they kept you.

Perhaps it is for the best, you always came to. Maybe it is meant to be this way, because at least the life you are living now with just your dad and grandparents is good. It's good—

You hear a dull chip as the lead snaps. It flies off to the side, leaving a small pencil marking etched into your paper. It's minor, but still an annoyance when deep in thought or concentration. Still, it's nothing that can't fixed with two pumps at the end of the pencil. You start over again, scribbling out the final numbers when familiar happy mewl grabs your attention. Before you can even look over, your cheeks lift into a smile.

"Hi, Etsu!"

It's a reaction that happens as soon as the sound reaches your ears. You set your pencil on your paper, math equations and theories slipping from your mind.

Etsu hops onto the counter, his blazing orange fur shimmering in the sunlight. Despite him being a stray, his fur is the softest thing on the planet. You hope he is a stray, because that's how you connected to him in the first place. Sometimes you wonder if he's had those long, quiet nights alone.

"You ready for a meat bun?" You say, sliding a hand back from his head to mid back. He anticipates your touch, always tilting his head up before you caress him again. The mewl he gives, so meek and mild, is what you understand to be a 'yes'.

And so you go over to the pork bun warmer and carefully pluck a bun from the middle shelf, trying your hardest not to touch the metal racks in between. There's still a little splotch of red on your hand from the last time you burned yourself.

The doughy flesh of the bun is warm under your fingertips, and droops slightly, heavy with pork. Steam escapes from every pore, and then, as you slice the bun open, it billows out.

The soft sounds of Estu enjoying his meal brings you a gratification that only comes on—again—during peaceful moments like these.

But as you watch him, you notice your dad's tall, black water bottle and cellphone sitting next to the rotary.

I should probably go and give it to him, you think, watching the bottle now instead of Etsu.

It's about four minutes walking distance from the store.

It wouldn't hurt.

"Nana! Dad left his water here. I'll be right back!"

You wait until you hear the warm, candied voice of your grandmother to leave the store. For a moment, a part of you misses the cool air conditioning.

****

As you enter the breezeway leading to the gym, you realize that you've never been here after school. There's a different vibe, you immediately notice; one that has your steps slowing.

You have never seen the boys your dad coaches. It's not like he forbade you from going to games; and it's not like didn't have any interest in the sport. It's just that you...never.. saw them practice.

You can hear the shoes squeaking and the ball slamming against the waxed floor. It's starts to sound like a horror movie soundtrack, in a weird way.

You peep your head in, carefully clutching the metal door frame.

Five boys, the ones your dad mentioned about earlier, are the first things to catch your eye. One of them, with hair as orange and fiery as Etsu's, is mid-air.

You spot your dad fifteen feet away to the left, arms crossed over one another, head tilted down and eyes wound up--his Focus Face, as you liked to call it. He's deep in his concentration, watching every move of the players on the court. You don't want to interrupt him, so you wait till one of the sides makes a point.

That point comes no sooner after you decide, and after it does, the boisterous cheers of the side closest to you fill the room. You take one step in, more confident, then another, till you're past the metal threshold.

"Dad?"

The man in question turns on instinct. He knows that voice. For fifteen years he's heard the sound of that word, the specific pitch and inflection. So he turns, void of any hesitation or forethought, only wondering why you're here a good few seconds after he sees your face.

Everyone else turns too. The word is so foreign in that environment it feels like slime against skin. The cheers stop. Even the ball stops rolling, and all eyes are on you.

"(Y/n)? What are you--" your father begins, still wide-eyed and surprised. They stay like that for only that moment, however, before returning to their sharp gaze. He turns to the boys, and says, "Excuse me for a second."

You meet him halfway as he walks towards you, neverminding the boys' stares. Haven't they ever seen a girl before? Wasn't that a girl standing right beside your dad?

"You forgot your water bottle," you half-whisper. The stares are getting to you, and you start to feel like you're being cooked alive. "I thought you might need it."

Behind him, a soft murmur lays low in the air. You're hyper-aware of it. What are they saying?

"Thanks, sugarplum." Your dad smiles, something that you know others rarely see, and takes the bottle.

You follow the same path back towards the doors, every now and then peaking glances back at the curious boys. They look kinda goofy, you think, just standing there like they had just witnessed a miracle, like the Lord Jesus Christ himself had come down from the heavens.

But as you turn the corner, a wall that wasn't there before blocks your path. It takes two seconds to register this, but in that first second, you're already colliding into it.

You stumble back, and so does the wall, giving you enough space to look up and see two eyes staring down at you. They're brown and wide with fear, as if had just broken an ancient artifact and was about to be executed.

A squeaky sorry tumbles from your lips at the same time he apologizes.

"Are you okay?" The wall--boy...man?--says. You're still in a daze, but lucid enough to give him a reassuring smile. You've seen him around before. You've never talked to him, but always feel bad that others perceived him as villainous or criminal. Deep down you he know has a kind soul... and a cute face.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

"(Y/n)! You alright?" Your dad calls out from where he is, leaning over to see who you bumped into.

"Yeah! Everything's good!" You pip.

The wall in front of you shifts to the side, clearing the way for you to exit.

You walk with your head down all the way back home, afraid that anyone and everyone could see how red your face was.

God, that was embarrassing.

****

"Coach, was that your daughter?!" Tanaka says, almost teasingly. He's the first to break the silence, and has an apparent death wish.

Soft eyes go razor sharp again. No way was he going to let any one of those hormonal teenage boys near his precious daughter.

"Get back to work, Tanaka!" Ukai barks. All the color drains from Asahi's face, who is still standing by the doors.

"Wait, you mean... I just ran into your daughter?"

"It's okay, Asahi, don't worry about it."

"But...but..."

"Does she go to Karasuno?" Hinata asks over Asahi's blubbering, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, but don't you dare even think about--

"Is she a first year?"

"SHE'S A SECOND YEAR, FIRST YEAR, NOW GO GET READY FOR PRACTICE."

"Y-yes sir!"

[op-sheepy]

6. dark law, 19. Davy Back, 36. the whimsical captain trafalgar law, 55. marine pet AU!

 Oh, good eye. Those are some of my favorites.. Here is another long one under the cut. Also sorry for the late response. :D

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

6. Dark Law

Essentially my take (one of them at least) on what would have happened had Corazon not taken Law from the Donquixote pirates but left anyway when he thought Law had ratted him out.

Some details regarding this:

Rocinante returns to the marines and was able to submit the intelligence he'd gathered. This doesn't do much except inconvenience Doflamingo, as already acknowledged during Law and Doffy's fight.

Vergo gets discovered so he just goes back to the family.

Law does not eat the Ope Ope no mi since Doflamingo never intended for him to. At least, initially.

Because, I'm assuming, not everyone can perform the "Perennial Youth Operation," as it was stated they needed to be 'wise' or 'knowledgeable' and being a doctor does not really automatically equal that, Doflamingo had to kill the users he had chosen when none of them could do it so the fruit could go back to the circulation and he could feed it to the next potentially qualified person he could find.

Law's Amber Lead Syndrome got healed by one of these users though it was only because Law, himself, taught them how to (being familiar with the disease through his father's research as well being a good doctor)

Eventually, everyone realizes that Law is actually the most suited to wield the fruit (all the other smart doctors either having a fruit already or are simply inaccessible), certain that Law would be able to figure out how to do the ultimate technique. So, reluctantly, because he does care in his twisted conditional way, Doflamingo gives the Ope Ope no Mi to Law.

Law at this point had been raised as Doffy's right hand, all according to his plan. While he truly considers Law family and might genuinely regret making him give up his life, Doffy would still ask it from him because there is nothing more important than Doflamingo and his goals. A sentiment that almost everyone in his family considers true.

And Law... well...

Doflamingo rested both hands on Law's shoulders. His tinted glasses peering down, voice heavy with regret, "I wish there was another way."

Law's face remained impassive only broken by a small wistful twitch of his lips. It almost looked like a smile. He grasped Doflamingo's arm and directed him towards the operating table.

"You have taught me many lessons one of which was the futility of wishing for better circumstances." Law seated him and prepared his equipment.

"You taught me to take advantage of any situation by using whatever it is at my disposal." Carefully, he opened a package of sterile gloves. It wasn't really needed but the ritual of opening the pack and putting the gloves on one hand at a time always helped settle his nerves.

"I had expected you to do the same so I'd been prepared for this even before you gave me the fruit." Law lifted his eyes as he slid the first glove in place. "Don't feel too bad. I really am grateful for everything you've done for me. This is just me returning the favor."

He slid the other glove and stretched it over his hand. Softly, almost a whisper, without taking his eyes off his would-be patient, "I wish there was another way too." The snap that followed the release of the glove was too loud in the small operating room.

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

19. Davy Back

Early Heart Pirates stuff. And another workaround for writing with at least one of the nameless Heart Pirates.

A Davy Back Fight is initiated for an abused crew member of the opposing crew because Penguin couldn't help himself. The rules are a work in progress, hence this fic's state in limbo.

I really like writing about how these guys were when starting out. They probably looked too adorable, to be honest, so in the harsh North Blue they must have had a hard time getting treated seriously. Not that that would have bothered them (I honestly think they exploited it a lot.)

The enemy captain stared intently at each Heart Pirate then at the list of members given to him. The man didn't bother controlling the upward curl of his mouth.

"No powers. No weapons. Sumo wrestling with your navigator and hand-to-hand combat with your doctor."

Shachi choked and struggled a little bit to get his breathing back to normal. He waved away Penguin's hands patting his back. The pats were a little too harsh, clearly an admonishment if the accompanying glare was anything to go by.

Penguin almost felt sorry for whoever it was being matched against Law. Bepo, while just as incensed by the other crew, was way too conscious of controlling his strength to ever really hurt anyone too badly. The captain, on the other hand, could turn someone into a useless writhing lump of agony by systematically dislocating joints Penguin hadn't even known could be dislocated. Gruesome as severed body parts looked, the powers could at least make it painless.

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

36. The Whimsical Captain Trafalgar Law

More Heart Pirates stuff though would feature some of the allied crews as well. This is actually a series/multi-chaptered (or would be).

A Heart Pirates adventure fic where they all go along with their captain's whims all while trying to figure him out. His crew is so used to it they barely even flinch anymore.

Not to say they understand him because who knows what goes inside their captain's head. In fact, they debate that sometimes (a lot of times) the crew being divided among those who think Law has got a plan and those who think he's winging it (often switching really).

"You can't possibly tell me there's some sort of plan behind this."

More than half of the crew looked a bit skeptical, the rest looked defensive.

Clione held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I'll follow the captain wherever same as you. But you gotta admit that there isn't always a method to his madness. He really does do things on a whim."

"I disagree. The captain's just saying that but he knows what he's doing. Pretty sure there's a reason behind all his actions..." Protests started, so Penguin amended, "...that isn't just him being a bastard on purpose because he hates someone. Which is a pretty valid reason since we are pirates."

"How about that time we raided the flour factory?" Ikkaku asked.

Penguin's reply came immediately. "Discreet incendiary." A beat. "...also he hates bread."

Before they could celebrate, Shachi interrupted, "His dislike of bread counts as a reason and since it's incidental it doesn't count as a whim."

With narrowed eyes, Clione tried again. "The monastery? Dressing up as monks."

"Medicinal plant in the courtyard bred by this one priest."

"Marineford?"

"Allowed us to get intel and allies."

"And the emergency operations without anesthesia?"

"Possible drug interaction. Emporio Ivankov and their hormone powers."

So continued their back and forth. By the end of it, Penguin and Shachi looked way too smug. Truthfully, they both agreed Law was more impulsive than he let on, often unaware of it himself. But they knew the man they chose to follow always had a plan and purpose (though not necessarily present at the start, but semantics)

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

55. Marine Pet AU

Haha... Another one of those difficult to explain ones. Starring the Marines (particularly the original three admirals and Sengoku), and the Shichibukai.

Uhm... So everything's the same except the Shichibukai aren't pirates. They're animals. That's it.

It starts with a wayward flamingo wearing eyewear harassing officers near one of their HQs. Also the Marines need to improve their public image. For some reason, the best they came up with is to get a mascot. Hitting two birds with one stone. (Except they can't really hit the bird. They tried)

So the Marines build a zoo or a habitat. Here are the only types of pirates the World Government can tolerate. Aren't they cute and fluffy?

The public eat it all up. It's popular so now they have to commit. And really, these animals become so important their safety and wellbeing become the higher-ups' problem.

Kizaru is having fun. Aokiji is resigned. Akainu tries (he doesn't quite know what but he'll do what's best for the Marines even if that's getting that damn flamingo away from the reptile enclosure for the tenth time that week on a Tuesday.)

Will feature other marines as well as all of the Shichibukai. All of them.

He checked the schedule and sighed deeply.

Boa, Doflamingo, Mihawk.

He had the most troublesome ones. Briefly, he contemplated just letting his subordinates handle them but quickly scrapped the idea.

He wouldn't say these animals were attached to him and the other admirals but they got more difficult to handle the lower the rank as though these creatures' egos get ruffled. It wasn't a matter of ability. It was perhaps more accurate to say that they had respect. A modicum of it.

It should be Boa's feeding time. Another sigh escaped him as he headed towards the grooming room, a room specifically made to groom Boa's food.

It took them a while to figure out the snake's preferred diet but they found it out when a stray kitten had snuck in and Boa swooped in to swallow it whole. From there they determined that she would only eat cute animals--any less adorable and she doesn't even look at it. So puppies and kittens. And maybe bunny rabbits. Which was bad from a PR perspective so they've taken to grooming rats. Put a nice lovely ribbon and brushed them so they're all fluffy.

He entered the grooming room and one of the officers assigned there took a quick look at him, glanced down the rat they were grooming, then burst to tears (they tended to get attached.) He pressed his hand to his head letting the ice cool down his budding headache. Why couldn't he have gotten Jinbe?

Thank you for playing. :)

[sevensided]

how did you get into writing fic? i'd love to start but idk even where to begin! I loved adats so I was wondering do you have any advice?

Oh my goodness! I am so flattered you’ve asked me this. Yes, I can absolutely help. I’ll throw a bunch of rambling under the cut.

I started writing fic probably when I was... sixteen years old? A lot of my early works were oneshots. I couldn’t figure out how to do anything plot heavy for the life of me, so I just stuck to AUs or whatever I felt like. I wasn’t in any particular fandom -- I really wrote whatever I had ideas for. I remember I tried once to do a plot-heavy story and I received a review absolutely ripping it to shreds. Like, it was so cruel I cried lol. I ended up deleting the fic. Years later, I get what they were trying to say (basically, more substance, less style), but at the time it cut to the quick. Really, it was only when I was in my twenties that I started writing work that was longer and/or better.

The fandom that helped me actually write plot heavy work was a historical-based fandom. As I’m a historian, it was perfect. I got to use my research skills and knowledge to create works that, above all, aimed to feel authentic. I mainly read historical fiction, so I was familiar with how that genre worked. Miraculously, people loved my work. I think I wrote about ~200k in the period of a year? These were several short stories (20-40k) and a few oneshot filler fics. While I was part of this fandom I also helped organise a Big Bang which was a lot of hard work but was extremely rewarding. Along with that, I interacted mainly with other fic writers, so I spent a lot of time chatting to people about ideas and encouraging other writers, and it just created a lovely medley where no concept was impossible or any line of dialogue too difficult. We supported each other and it was truly like a little commune. I gradually stepped away from the fandom mainly because it was just a part of my life at a very specific time, and almost as soon as that time was over, my love for that story/ship faded, but I firmly believe I figured out a lot of how/what I do now purely through that experience.

Regarding ADATS

With ADATS, it stemmed entirely from wanting to “explain” three months in canon (at the end of season three). I was interested in the idea of season four setting up Will/Mike in canon, and I wanted to test the source material to see if I could draw from what already existed to create something authentic. I began with that simple idea: what happened from July to October in 1985? Then I thought about the major themes I wanted to hit -- family, friendship, coming of age, sexuality -- and I nested them around the bigger concept: how do I get Mike from being ostensibly straight to realising he is gay? That meant thinking of two steps: Mike discovering his attraction to guys; Mike discovering his attraction to Will. Those two concepts were separate “arcs” that needed addressing in different ways. Balance was key to weaving them together and making the reader feel like they knew what was coming (and that they felt smart for putting the pieces together) without just rushing through and going “now kiss!” That’s partly why ADATS needs a sequel, lol: because it’s not finished!

Writing process

The first thing I do when I start to get an idea is I write it down. Sounds obvious. But when you have a killer line of dialogue come to you in the shower and you think “I’ll remember that” -- reader, you will not remember it. You gotta get it down ASAP! I do that the whole way through, as generally I’ll be thinking of scenes I’m stuck on and then it’ll just come to me and I’ll quickly jot it down.

The next thing -- or what I do in the meantime -- is start structuring. I plan. I try to plan a lot. Sometimes it’s okay to write “and something happens here to get them here”, because you’ll figure it out later, but for the most part I’ve discovered that planning is like gold and you can’t get enough of it. I break my work up into generally 3-4 parts/sections, and I treat each section like a mini story. So each part needs a conflict and resolution, and it needs to flow into the next section. You need to have a feeling of things evolving and maturing. Once I’ve planned those little bits, I start thinking about the bigger plot arc and how I can drop in hints along the way. I’m probably not a subtle or skilled enough writer to yet pull off that sort of gasping twist you get in really excellent books, but I’m trying to get there. It’s hard, is what I’m trying to say, but that’s okay, because we’re all learning.

Then I generally do aesthetic stuff. Sounds stupid, probably. But nothing helps me get more into a mood than doing a Pinterest board or -- most of all -- making a Spotify mix. I start thinking about the vibe and the general atmosphere, and then I almost exclusively listen to that mix when I’m working. Sort of like muscle memory? Just to get the creative juices associated with that particular selection of songs.

Another thing I’ll do along with plot structure is character structure. This is a biggie. I mean, a story is nothing without characters. So I’ll just jot down a bunch of bullet points of characters and particular aspects that I want to highlight or remember. I hate continuity errors in fiction. Like, if someone says they work on Maple Street but later in the fic they’re working on Pine Street. I hate that. So I keep note of specific things that my main character might notice at repeated points in the story (colours, places, smells, names, sounds -- so they’re all consistent even as the narrative evolves). That’s another thing -- your characters’ motivations. Not everyone is going to be a huge player, but they all do serve a purpose. The most important character is obviously your main character. I personally think it’s important to let your M.C. be an arse at times. They’re going to be mean, they’re going to misinterpret things or fly off the handle... just let ‘em. Let them be wretched humans, and then bring them back and make them realise what they’ve done. Let them learn! I love consequences in fiction, lol.

At the same time, I’ll probably start writing. We’ve already written down some snippets of neat dialogue or descriptions, but now we should start the actual process. For me, I used to start at the beginning. Usually this was the most fleshed out anyway: I’ll have a clear idea of the beginning and the end, but nothing in the middle. These days, if I have a scene in mind that I can’t forget, I’ll just write it. It will possibly get scrapped or rewritten, but that’s okay, because at least you’ve got it down and now you can devote your brain power to something useful (like figuring out what the middle is supposed to be). I’ll have half a dozen of totally out of context scenes just littered in my Word document that I’ll add to as I go along. Eventually, though, you’re going to start writing properly, and that’s when you write your opening scene.

Opening scenes: super important. Every time I write a scene I think: what is the point of this? What do I want the reader to learn or takeaway? Sometimes you do have filler scenes, but they also serve a different purpose (perhaps to establish a group dynamic or to explore/describe a character’s surroundings). Mainly, though, every scene should push something forward in some way, whether it’s character development or a plot point. So, with an opening scene, I always think you have to establish: where you are; who you are; what they are doing; where they’ve come from (in a philosophical and practical sense); and where they’re going (ditto). That doesn’t have to happen in the first paragraph -- that would be silly. But if you sprinkle that information in over time it’ll gradually build up a picture of your character and that way the reader can get an idea of who they are. You basically need to give a snapshot of what your story is about. This also goes back to the character creator stuff: where they are at the start should be different to where they end up. How that happens is, of course, because of plot, and because you’ve structured everything to the nth degree, we’ve got a very clear progression of that character’s growth (/s easier said than done lol).

General advice

Write down everything: every idea, a bit of dialogue, a description, whatever. Write it down. Doesn’t have to be neat. Just has to be on paper. You can’t remember everything, so if you’re spending time trying to hold those things in your head, it’s taking up space for new ideas to come along.

Structure, plan, structure, plan. Sometimes it’s boring and I hate it. Other times, when I’ve not written in a few days and I open the Word doc and think wtf is this supposed to be, I am very grateful for Past Me for leaving such detailed notes. Seriously, it helps so much. Oneshots don’t really need planning, in my experience. You just get those out there. But multi-chaptered stories really do, even ones that “just” focus on a relationship.

Whatever you want to write, commit to it. Space goblins invade Hawkins? Do it. Eleven and Max find themselves in a cult akin to Midsommar (2019) and must escape? Yes. Just... whatever you want to do, remember that you’re writing it for you. Write what most interests you, what makes you when you reread it go AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!! Because that makes it a thousand times easier to actually get on with the writing when you enjoy what you’re doing.

Write a lot. Every day, if you can, or at least at designated times. Occasionally I have a very specific headspace/vibe I have to be in, but sometimes it just hits me and I’ll say to my partner “I need to write now” and just disappear, lol. The more you write the more you write. It’s so, so, so true. Cannot emphasise this enough. When I wrote that ~200k in twelve months? It was because I literally wrote every. day. Or near enough. Remember that some days you’ll write 200 words, and other days you’ll write 20k (this happened to me with ADATS -- part of the reason I finished it so quickly was because I had sprints of writing 10k+ at a time that only happened because I was in the rhythm of it). Write, write, write. Who cares if it’s crap! No one will see it until you are ready. In the meantime, just write!

Probably last of all (although I could go on and on) is connect with other writers. If you’re struggling to start, sometimes just talking about it can help a huge amount. I hope it goes without saying that you can message me whenever you want, anon or not, and I will talk to you. We can talk about ideas or I can beta stuff, whatever you want! Find like-minded people and talk to them about what you want to do. Another thing this helps is in advertising your work when you do publish. I see a lot of first time fic writers get super down because they publish their magnum opus on AO3 but no one comments. Honestly, it’s because no one knows you’ve published! You don’t have to be tooting your own horn every which way, but just actively talking about your work and even collaborating with other content creators with get you hyped and other people too (and the input and encouragement other fandom members give is just... out of this world. Anon messages helped me finish ADATS when I was really worried I wouldn’t [that’s the truth]. Seriously, support is everything). When you have people excited about your work, you get excited. It’s really as simple as that.

I could go on but this is already horrendously long. I hope even a bit of this helps! If you want to chat or have any more questions, just hit me up any time.

[wickedobsessed101]

Fanfic Writer Asks

[SOURCE: criminal-minds-fanfiction: Most of the writer ask posts I come across are only like ten or so questions long so I thought I’d try to make a longer one because we like talking about our writing! Feel free to reblog!]

I’m answering all of these b/c I love Q & A’s about my writing, both for my fics and other things.

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? It was 2013, so I was 14 years old. I’m now almost 23.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? I’m mostly in the Wicked Musical fandom, but I like to read for other fandoms, like Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Chronicles of Narnia, ect.

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer. OCs, but I’m more than willing to create an OC for someone based on characteristics they give me.

4) What is your favourite genre to write for? I love me some fluffy romance and hurt/comfort, but I also love some angsty drama.

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi-chaptered stories, which would it be and why? OMG, don’t make me choose! They’re all my babies! I love all my children equally! They all hold special places in my heart.

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why? Goodness, most of my stories prior to 2017, because I was in high school and had no idea what I was doing because I was just getting my feet wet with writing.

7) When is your preferred time to write? Anytime really. The latest I’ve stayed up writing a fic was 4AM. *Glares at ‘Threads of Truth’*

8) Where do you take your inspiration from? Where ever it happens to come up. I’m not picky. Movies, music, people I’ve seen on the street, random thoughts that enter my head, anything.

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote? In ‘Threads of Truth’, it’s a tie between Villy’s first date, and an argument that happens in an upcoming chapter. And that’s all I’m saying about that.

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind? In ‘Play The Game’, I liked the epilogue ending that I gave Elphaba with her family, even without Fiyero. I like writing her with kids. Another ending would be with the Fiyeraba still together, but I’m satisfied with the ending it has.

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it? I’ll go back and fix typos that are pointed out, but I don’t change plot stuff. Like, I wrote what I wrote and I will amend my technique in future stories.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why? Other than my OCs, because I get to fully create them and my lowkey babies, I’d have to say G(a)linda. She has so much potential and she’s so much fun.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why? Boq. Not because I hate him (I don’t!), but because I don’t normally know what to do with him. If he’s not with Nessa, he’s literally just standing there like a brick wall. No offence, Boq!

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories. [Ask me about a specific story(ies)]

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names? I usually change consonants and vowels to already existing names, or add unnecessary letters because... reasons.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx? [Ask me about a specific story]

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on. “Hopefully, this will soak up any more leaks.” (Upcoming Wicked fanfic)

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? Yes, 2. Both of them are a few years old and I’ve grown as a writer since then. Maybe one day, I’ll edit them and repost, but not anytime soon.

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to? Not everything can have a sequel, y’all! XD

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently? Yes! Around 60% of them.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire? @vinkunwildflowerqueen @raven-curls @mylittleelphie @weaselspeedfanfic Ultimate Queen of Cliffies

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it? This goes back to Question #6; most of what I posted prior to 2017.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? Silence. I need to focus.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes? I can’t write it. They’ll make out, and then be pregnant in the next chapter. Y’all can do the math for yourselves.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story? YES! Yes, I have! Both sad tears and tears of joy. I’ve also cringed from second-hand embarrassment at the things the characters do and say. I’m not in control of their actions all the time. Sometimes they tell me what they’re gonna do, and I’m like, “Well, alright, then.”

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write? [Ask me about a specific story]

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? I write bullet points of things I want to happen in a chapter on the Word Doc, or in the story as a whole, and I try to keep those bullet points in order. And the Notes App on my phone holds a lot of my ideas, and sometimes full scenes.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction? That I’d become obsessed with writing and continue doing it for almost ten years, as well as expanding to writing plays and musicals.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like? Yeah. I’m not gonna say which one, but just know there’s one... or a few.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? Yes, and I’m still not gonna say which one(s). I want all the love!

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec, not the answerer) Yeah, sure!

32) Are any of your characters based on real people? Yes. Villy Doiir from ‘Threads of Truth’ is based on 4 people I know in real life, all mixed together into one wholesome, mother figure/ mentor. Perhaps that’s why I like writing her so much.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? All reviews keep me going, no matter the length. But I love it when people review saying that they picked up on little references that were really just for me. It makes me feel like we’ve shared a moment.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten? A guest reviewer once said, “You tend to write Fiyero as an abusive person”. It wasn’t harsh, just... NOT TRUE. Especially for the story they were reviewing.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest? Close to my chest. I’ll share it with the world when I’m ready.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s? NOPE! You’ll just have to wait and see! LOL!

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written? I... really don’t know. My stories all have their funny moments.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it. I’m very busy, and collabs aren’t really my thing, but I’m always willing to lend an extra pair of eyes pre-posting.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person? I’ve written one story in the first person and it was fun to get into the character’s head, but I love third person, cause I like knowing what everyone is thinking. Second person makes me feel a certain way and that don’t really like.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction? IRL, no. It’s not something I bring up over dinner. I’ll talk about my plays and musicals, but not fanfiction. I like keeping my fics for the online peeps and my more personal writings for the RL peeps.

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written? My OC, Princess Hannalyn, from ‘A Royal Romance’. She was so much fun!

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx. I haven’t done a song fic.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it? Not fully, but they’ve had little inklings, but certain details were still a surprise. And I’m not mad about it.

44) What is the last line you wrote? “I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other.”

45) What spurs you on during the writing process? When I’ll have one idea, and it spirals into many others, and when the characters write themselves. It makes it so much easier for me. Sometimes they tell me that they’re about to make a bad decision, and I just go along with it. They need to learn and grow somehow.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it? [Ask me for a specific story]

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about? [Ask me]

48) What’s your favourite trope to write? I love a good Royalty AU (not fully AU ‘cause of our princey-prince, but still) and Holiday AUs. And I’ve never written a Coffeeshop AU, but I LOVE reading them. I’ll read anything. I’m not picky, and I love to see what ideas others have.

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about? Yes, and both of them were Gelphies: 1 - “Easier Said Than Done” by mecelphie - It’s part of a long, wonderful series of Elphaba and Glinda together at Shiz and how their lives evolve together and has many lovable OCs. 2 - “The Thropp Diaries” by denpa wave chick saki - It’s first-person Elphaba POV of the book. It expands on lots of mentioned moments and we get to journey through Elphaba’s thoughts.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? I’d have to say fluff, so I can get my escape from reality. But it’s hard to write pure fluff without a little bit of conflict.

If you wanna read my stories, they’re all right here: Fae’sFlower

[pencilofawesomeness]

Author Self-Interview

tagged by: @ljf613

Name: Pencil

Fandoms: *deranged laughter* Too many. I have written (and published) work for Fairy Tail, Genshin Impact, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Voltron: Legendary Defender, the Arrowverse, ~Disney~, RWBY, and Transformers: Prime. I have also written for Seven Deadly Sins, My Hero Academia, DC/Batman, Avengers, Danny Phantom, and soooo many others, but those are all WIPs and such. As for fandoms, well, there’s Miraculous Ladybug, Tales of Arcadia, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Tower of God, and more. I bounce around, and I never really leave anything behind, even if other interests are more at the forefront.

Where do you post: AO3. I used to, waaaaaay back in the dark days, post on ff.net, but not only have I forgotten my password, but I don’t like the interface as much, nor the things I posted when I was a Child, so AO3 it is.

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Of Dragons and Fairies, so says my AO3 statistics.

Most popular oneshot: Sparks in the Night, which I by no means expected, being that it was a fun little thing I wrote pretty much in one night. Technically it’s two chapters, but I originally wasn’t going to post the second part I wrote, but decided to later, so I would’ve made it a one-shot, probably, had I thought things through. Besides, it’s only 3k, so that’s a one-shot in my book. 

The “real” most popular one-shot would be Never Forgotten by Pencil-actually-made-it-one-chapter logic.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: F-favorite? Oh. Oh well, um, I have really, really enjoyed the How to Raise Your Dragon Slayer series, far more than I thought I would when I started Of Dragons and Fairies for the kicks and giggles. That said, my favorite installment so far is probably The Eighth Tower, but one of my favorite things I think I have written is a massive one-shot that’s an MHA-style FMA fic, except that I lost it in a harddrive crash and haven’t re-written it. ;-;

Fic you were nervous to post: I don’t know if I’m ever really nervous? I generally post things and accept whatever outcome (even though I always hope it’s well received, because I’m a selfish author who likes validation). That said, it would definitely be United. That story was, and still is, one of my favorite brain-children, but I guessed that it wouldn’t be popular, and I was right. I haven’t written on it in a long time, though I have always wanted to circle back to it eventually; I just figured I had time to follow my current interests, since nobody else was chomping at the bit. One day my child, one day...

How do you choose your titles: Heh. Heheheh. HAHAHAHA. Very carefully, actually, even though sometimes I try to just slap something on a page anyway because it needs one. Most of the time, I try to capture the theme of the story—or at least one of the core ones—and allow it to both serve as a descriptor and as a note that would tie the story together and highlight the theme. Though I do appreciate allusions, and I like to include those as well. (If anyone wants to send me an ask about how I came up with a specific title, I will gladly give my thought process.) Unfortunately, chapter titles—as much as I try—rarely get as much inspiration as the fic title.

Do you outline: Y— Yesssssss.... Sort of. I try. Ironically, my most comprehensive outlines exist as Spotify playlists. That said, HTRYDS probably has the best outline of anything I’ve written, though Tales of Valor had a decent outline as well. 

Complete: Mostly just one-shots—I’m actually pretty bad at completing things, heheh—but there’s a few. Outside of an ongoing series, Finding Home is my only completed multi-chapter. Inside of a series, but existing as comprehensive arcs, I have Of Dragon and Fairies and The Eighth Tower. 

Edit: Oh! And it’s short, but The Recruitment Spiel is an Art But Destiny Took the Fun Out of It is complete! And multi-chapter. Yeah.

Do you accept prompts: Kinda. I’m accepting prompts and ideas for extra scenes for the HTRYDS series, though I’ll tailor them to fit my canon if necessary. Generally, I have so many things of my own to write, any prompt I got would be placed in the back of the line (unless I got super inspired, which happens) but I do enjoy prompts, provided they’re not super shippy or specific.

Upcoming story you’re most excited to write about: Well, that untitled I-have-to-write-it-again oneshot for FMA that I mentioned is definitely something I want to do and post eventually. As for what I’m actively working on, I am really excited for the next HTRYDS arc (I’ve been trudging through TLS to get to it, ngl) which will be titled Demon Tales. There’s also this Seven Deadly Sins TOG AU I’ve had rolling around, though I may not continue that the way I had planned because 4KOTA gave me more ammo. 

Stories you’re most excited to read: Hmmm. I have quite a few things queued in my Marked for Later list, some that I’ve started and some that I wanted to check out, but as to what I have been currently reading/following, the Poisoned Dreams Continuity by StrangeDiamond (AO3), which is currently inbetween fics, and Homuncular Nature by Otaku553 are a couple of things I have been following. I also read a lot of Webtoons, and I have some Tower of God to catch up on, and Room of Swords and Lore Olympus are always welcome updates. I’m currently perusing some of my Marked for Laters, and in regular searches, to see what my next few reads will be. (Feel free to send me recs, but I also got a hefty stack of ATLA fics to check out, I know.)

tagging @therosefrontier @ladylynse and @blueskyscribe (if y’all want to, of course)

[anothertimdrakestan]

Set In Stone - Choose Your Own Love Story Prologue (Tim Drake or Bart Allen x Reader)

Words: 2k

~ AH!!! Welcome to my newest multi chapter fic! Except there’s a twist! It’s up to you dear reader. I’ll be writing two different stories about each path, like a choose your own adventure, except you choose how your love story progresses to the eventual end! There will be a private masterlist specifically for this series where you can choose the way your personal love story unfolds. Just know that the future is never cemented, meaning you can always go back and try again! Think of this as the prologue to the actual event, but your first decision drops tomorrow, meet Bart or dig deeper into Tim? Hope you enjoy! ~

Seeing teenage heroes was really something else. They were your age, and they weren’t grumpy and old like the Justice League. “Okay well this is fun and all but I wanna hang with people my age!” you groaned following J'onn down the never ending corridors of the Watchtower. “You know your powers are not fit for the type of missions the Young Justice team attempt, you are arguably weaker than the regular human” he reminded you. That was rude. “Am not! I’m an asset! I can’t get hit cuz I know where they’re gonna swing so who cares if I have a mental breakdown every once and while!” J'onn knew you weren’t wrong, you taking a hit was a rare occurrence, but the Justice League refused to risk you even taking one hit, you’d protected thousands by scanning the infinite number of different possible futures. 

“Everything you need is here” you replied “I knew you were gonna say that, like I literally knew it” you also knew you had to prod J'onn just for about two more minutes until you met Nightwing. “Oh my god Nightwing fancy seeing you here!” you grinned at J'onn who now understood your goal. “Hello, I didn’t know the YJ team had a new member?” Dick glanced at J'onn who shrugged. “Do not blame me Nightwing, Flash found her and the team agreed she stays with us” you rolled your eyes before starting with Dick Grayson, but he didn’t know you knew that yet. 

“Hi! Y/N, no last name. Flash found me when he ran into the future and I was totally feeling the mode because I got these powers [ you tapped your head as Dick smirked ] and I can like see different parts of future when I’m super focussed, so like short time is kinda easy but far away and hard and I don’t remember anything from my past. I’m like a future only kinda girl.” you sighed, hoping you’d made sense. Dick’s eyes lit up. “So you don’t have a family, and they’re just keeping you here?” you nodded, crossing your arms to try to look more emotionally secure. 

“Dibs” and something sparked in your head, this was a new future. It hurt. You sunk to the ground clutching your head as a new future bounced around your consciousness. Trying to shake out of it you realized you’d been carried to a med bay, Dick and J'onn stood above you looking concerned. Pushing them off you as you got up you explained “sometimes people make big decisions that change the future, I’m guessing you calling ‘dibs’ on me changed something, but I’m a little too tired to check if that’s okay, also what does dibs even mean?” and Dick smiled, “you’ll have to come find out!” and against J'onn’s protests he pulled you towards the Zeta Tubes. 

Flash zipped in front of you and Dick. “No.” and Dick waved him off. “I’m taking her to the manor, get her to meet the family maybe I’ll get a sister if Bruce is in a mood” he waggled an eyebrow at Flash who was focussed now on you knowing he couldn’t get in Dick’s way. “I know you don’t know him yet but if Jason Todd asks you to do anything that seems dangerous say no. And watch out for Damian’s swords. I guess just look for Tim Drake, he’s a good one” and he patted you on the shoulder. “Go feel the mode kid”  and you face palmed. “Flash you mean crash the mode oh god don’t even try to be cool” you groaned. “You totally have to meet Bart” Dick mumbled before he cleared you for zeta tube access. 

You appeared in what can only be described as a man cave. There was a giant computer where a tiny boy sat covered in leather typing. There was a teenager looking about your age punching dummies while another boy was shooting literally guns at the dummies. “Welcome to the batcave!” Dick announced loud enough for the three boys heads to turn. The smallest boy stopped typing and stalked over to you. “A little young for you Grayson, stolen her from the baby justice team?” you knew this was Damian Wayne, and you couldn’t contain yourself.

“OH MY GOD BATMAN HI!” you screeched pulling him into your chest. “You’re totally crash like so cool but you’re so little right now! Last time I saw you, you were like super tall but you totally got moded or something - oh I wasn’t supposed to say that don’t worry!” Dick nudged you “this is Robin, Batman, Bruce Wayne, is in his office” and you slapped a hand over your mouth. “Right, no spoilers” and Damian stood still, processing his own future. “Moving on, Tim and Jason!” the two older boys had come down to get a closer look.

“Hood, Drake, this is totally cool!” you exclaimed, shaking their hands. “Why is he Red Hood and I’m Drake? Not Red Robin?” Tim looked puzzled. Best not ruin his life like that, this was one of the few things you planned on changing. “Because I know you’re Tim Drake! So does the world, Drake is a good LAST NAME right? Red Robin is totally crash for a hero name!” and Tim looked a little confused, but brushed it off. “What the demon said, she new?” and you shook your head, explaining your story again.

“20 bucks says adoption papers” “50 says she gets a room” “75 on a new animal persona” the boys started screaming bets as soon as they heard the “family trauma emotional instability” part. “Why can’t she be in Young Justice? Or the Outsiders? She’s still a teenager” Tim looked confused. “I dunno man, she’s been with the JL for a while because she’s apparently delicate which is bullshit” Dick explained and you strongly agreed. “None of you could even land a hit on me” you puffed out your chest. “Care to defend that claim?” Damian unsheathed a sword. “No! J'onn sai-” you cut Dick off. “Absolutely ”.

Now you were dodging and ducking Damian’s advances. You’d swung a couple punches but it means undoing some focus which allows Damian to get his own shots in, so you mostly stayed on defense, letting him get frustrated and tired. “I think you’ll get better with practice baby Batman” you teased him. Next was Jason, bullets were hard to avoid because you didn’t have lightning fast reflexes, although that would be nice. But Jason wasn’t as calculated as Damian so you could play a little dirtier. Knocking his guns out of his hands you let up, “this is boring I’m done” you raised from the ground where you and Jason had tumbled down on. 

“So you really have powers. Your moves are all the most probable choice mathematically, you can’t be running the numbers in your head that quick!” Tim was toying with a tablet, shocked at your prediction abilities. “That’s right Boy Wonder, that was fun but I’m feeling kinda diz-” and then you realized you’d overworked yourself a little bit, and it all faded to black. 

You woke up to fully aged Batman. “Oh god no I’m back. How am I back! Damian you were just a kid like ten minutes ago! How long have I been out?” you began to throw blankets off yourself, blankets? You were in a bed in someone’s room. “Calm down, Y/N, Y/N! It’s okay!” and the Older-Damian just enveloped you in a hug. You couldn’t remember the last hug you’d had. Literally couldn’t remember. And it was a welcomed comfort. Pulling away you got a closer look, and it wasn’t Damian Wayne, but Bruce. 

“Bruce right? Current Batman?” you whispered, trying to wrap your mind around what had just happened. “That’s me, I see you’ve met my son, at multiple ages too” his eyes were smiling but his mouth wasn’t, it showed concern. “Yes, I did, I’m sorry for being a nuisance, it’s a pleasure to meet you but clearly I’m a bit moded so I should head back to the tower” you explain beginning to get up. “Actually that’s something I wanted to talk to you about, if you feel alright? [ you nodded, your powers were still a little too weak to peek ahead at what he was going to say ] Well, as you can see, I’ve got a couple of children, and you haven’t even met all of them. And I take them under my protection and I train them, and it seems to me you want training. Now you’re not ready for field work but you can start with me and my team, and maybe do a couple visits with the Young Justice team when Tim heads over. I think I can help you, and give you a family, would that be something you want?” 

A family, you had one of those. And you knew the word brought you warmth, that had to be a good thing. “I think I’d like that a lot, but I’m kinda already with the Justice League ya know? Their personal magic 8 ball.” and Bruce shook his head. “They won’t be a problem for me, you’ll fit right in with my family” and you felt a smile spread over your face. “Then it’s a deal!” and you stuck out a hand, Bruce clasped it, pulling you in for another hug. 

“We’ll talk later about what this means logistically, but there’s someone really excited you’re here.” and Tim Drake came bursting through the door, holding cookies. “Welcome to the team Y/N! You don’t know Alfred yet but he made these! I’m so glad you’re here!” he was beaming with excitement. And blushing? “Hi Tim, I’m glad to be here!” you chirped. Bruce mumbled something about paperwork and left the room as Tim continued. “This is totally cool, if you want I can call Bart I think he’d totally want to meet you! Or, you and I could hangout just the two of us!” there was that blush again. “Yeah! Can I just sit and think for a minute before I catch up with you?” this was a decision you wanted to read into, it felt important. 

Tim left, and you sat back into the plush bed, diving into the future. And it was something you hadn’t seen you. There were two futures, still fuzzy from the infinite decisions to be made securing the future, but it was clear enough to see that it was your wedding day. Down one path you saw a beautiful wedding with someone you haven’t met yet, and you looked beyond happy. You heard yourself whisper “if only Tim were here to see this” wiping a tear away in the arms of your lover. Recoiling back you knew this future wouldn’t do, not at Tim’s expense. So you went towards the other. Same set up, but this time it was Tim that you were marrying, but the same tear slid down your cheek “if only Bart could be here” you recognized the name. Bart, the guy you’re supposed to be meeting. 

And you were stuck in the middle no matter what. Like yin and yang you couldn’t find a future where you didn’t end up in the arms of one at the other’s grave. Or worse, in the futures where you tried to pick them over yourself both lost their lives saving you. So how you do pick? Who gets to be your future and who has to perish to secure it?

“Y/N you ready yet?” Tim called from down stairs. It was years out, but you knew every decision you made from now on was one step closer to the loss of a hero. And there was nothing you could do about it. 

First Decision:

Get To Know Tim Drake First

Meet Bart Allen

 ~ I really hope you’re excited to make your own fic! The masterlist with the choices goes up with the actual start tomorrow! I can’t wait!!! ~

[drowningbydegrees]

Witcher Masterpost

You can find my AO3 here if that’s your thing, but here are links to all my Witcher creations.

Fic - One Shots

MUSIC PROMPT LIST FICS Prompt List

A Love Like This | G | 1,009 Words | No Warnings Apply Jaskier does nothing quietly. He is bright colors and endless conversation. He is music and theatrics. He unapologetically takes up space, bold and loud and impossible to ignore. Jaskier does nothing quietly.

Except for this.

Written for the Music Prompt 4. Dolce AO3 | Tumblr

Nothing But the Background Noise | T | 3,385 Words | No Warnings Apply Geralt has always been at home with silence. It’s a quality that lends itself well to the life of a witcher, this ability to find peace instead of loneliness in the quiet of his own company. But they spend that night in their room’s single bed and Geralt lies awake wondering when the warm press of Jaskier’s face tucked against his neck became such a welcome thing, when his fingers tangling in the bard’s hair got to be so instinctive. When did Jaskier’s get to be so wrapped up in his life as to leave Geralt dreading the absence?

In which Geralt realizes that sometimes you don't discover how much of a fixture something is in your life until you're forced to contemplate not having it.

Written for the Music Prompt 8. Incidental Music AO3 | Tumblr 

Call Me a Casualty | T | 1,670 Words | No Warnings Apply He has a plan.

Okay, admittedly calling it a plan is somewhat of an exaggeration. What Geralt has is an overwhelming sense of grief that floods the empty spaces left behind as his temper ebbs, and the horrifying realization that while it all hurts, it’s Jaskier’s departure that leaves his heart aching. What he has is an urgent need to set things right, and only a nebulous idea of how to do so. For starters though, he needs to catch up to Jaskier. That’s a straightforward task to set his mind to, and Geralt assumes he’ll figure out the rest on the road.Written for the Music Prompt 16. Mosso  AO3 | Tumblr

This Too Is Ours | E | 1,919 Words | No Warnings Apply

They fit like they were made for basking, tangled up with each other in the comfort of a warm bed while the snow falls outside He could go back to sleep, Jaskier thinks. It’s winter. He might be teaching, but it’s still a break of sorts. If he can’t sleep in now, then when can he?

Idly, he drags his palm down Geralt’s flank. There’s comfort in the familiar topography of the witcher’s body, and isn’t that a heady thought? Geralt is - has allowed himself to be - familiar territory. It seems a silly thing to be so giddy over, but Jaskier smiles as he nuzzles against the nape of Geralt’s neck.

AO3 | Tumblr

OTHER ONE SHOTS

Something To Hold Onto | T | 11,146 Words | No Warnings Apply

“Is it some kind of prank, do you think?” Jaskier asks, squinting at the noticeboard.

It’s littered with contracts, each more peculiar than the last. Missing people, haunted houses, someone convinced his sister is possessed because she’s acting strangely. The last is vague, giving no indication of what “strangely” even means. It would be weird for a sizable city like Novigrad, but it’s completely nonsensical in a village as small as Hillcrest, which is barely large enough to support an inn. The notices are all quite new, so normally Geralt would be tempted to write it off as someone being a menace. But the writing is different, the paper is different, all of it is different enough that it’s probably not one person.

As it turns out, there is no prank, leaving Geralt to try to fix things before whatever is wrong with Hillcrest consumes them all.

AO3 | Tumblr

We Break Like Waves | T | 3,469 Words | No Warnings Apply

For three days, they are happy. It matters less that Geralt struggles to put to words what Jaskier means to him when it’s all right there, neatly conveyed in the simple band wrapped around the bard’s finger. Jaskier holds his hand out to admire it for what must be the hundredth time, smiling as the candlelight catches facets of the solitary ruby set in gold.

What begins as a long overdue honeymoon ends, as things so often do in Geralt's life, in disaster.

AO3 | Tumblr

Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures | T | 3,716 Words | No Warnings Apply

Jaskier is used to his favorite customer, who is possibly some sort of cryptid, showing up at odd hours. What he's not used to is said customer showing up injured.

A modern AU featuring 24 hour diner server Jaskier and Geralt who is... still a witcher.

AO3 | Tumblr

If You Say It Again | T | 4,243 Words | No Warnings Apply

Geralt is what Jaskier cheerfully describes as "forever years old" when he discovers that okay, maybe he is just the littlest bit affected by… actually he’s not sure what one would call this. He’s not even sure if it’s specifically what was said or just the act of being spoken to like a person in a vulnerable moment. Either way, it’s more than a little unexpected, but that’s not actually the problem. After all, everyone finds themselves unraveled by something a little unorthodox now and again, and in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t really all that weird. 

AO3 | Tumblr

Left All the Lights Burning (But Nobody's Home) | M | 3,739 Words | No Warnings Apply Geralt is quiet, but he’s always quiet, so that really doesn’t mean much. When he can’t hear the witcher, Jaskier squints at the dark room, wishing his friend didn’t absolutely insist on wearing black all the time. “I don’t suppose you can do that magicky thing you do and break us out of here?”

No answer comes.

Written for Whumptober prompt 26. concussion AO3 | Tumblr

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2,021 Words | No Warnings Apply As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after. AO3 | Tumblr

Rosetta Stone | G | 1,408 Words | No Warnings Apply It’s not a seduction that the bard settles on, at least not in any traditional sense. There’s no lack of attraction (really, Jaskier is continuously baffled by how anyone could look at Geralt and not want him), but it’s background noise. He thinks of this more like finagling the two of them into some sort of harmony.

In which Jaskier realizes that while his affection for Geralt is almost certainly returned, they say it in entirely different ways, and takes it upon himself to translate.

AO3 | Tumblr

Untitled | G | 517 Words | No Warnings Apply Reply to the prompt:  What about when Geralt first realizes he's in love with Jaskier? Tumblr

Something is Bound to Give | T | 2,754 Words | No Warnings Apply For the space of a single breath Geralt concedes. He almost melts into Jaskier’s painstakingly careful touch, the soothing way the bard invites him to take refuge in someone else for a little while, but then Geralt’s mind catches up with the rest of him.  AO3 

Where You and I Collide | T | 1,388 Words | No Warnings Apply The words don’t pass his lips. At first Jaskier thinks this is too new, too fragile a thing that’s come into being between them. Then, he fears that perhaps they don’t mean the same thing by any of this, that perhaps he’s offered up his heart to someone who has no use for it. Based on a prompt asking for something about Jaskier and Geralt struggling with feelings. AO3 | Tumblr

Fill in the Blanks | G | 1,438 Words | No Warnings Apply “I want nothing.”

The thing is, it’s not a lie. Not really. It’s just that it’s an incomplete sentence.. AO3  | Tumblr

I’ll Wish Upon Embers | E | 9,128 Words | No Warnings Apply

“But allow me to raise this one point for your consideration.” There it is, accompanied by Jaskier’s expression scrunching in a way that Geralt is exasperated to realize he finds rather endearing. “Have you ever tried?” --- Geralt lets Jaskier talk him into sticking around for a village's midsummer festival. He assumes they're staying for Jaskier's benefit, but somewhere between the flower crowns and the bonfire, Geralt realizes it was a gift meant for him all along.

AO3 | Tumblr

Fic - Multi-part

Though I Try Not To | E | 16,120 Words | No Warnings Apply “You didn’t come back,” Geralt murmurs as if that somehow covers everything.

AO3

Even in the Dark I Know You | M | 8,196 Words | No Warnings Apply The thing is, he’s seen Geralt in a bad way. Even the witcher can’t always avoid injury in his line of work, and so Jaskier has plenty of practice patching him up. But this is new, and it makes something awful and anxious twist in Jaskier’s stomach.

A contract goes wrong leaving Geralt captive and stripped of most of his senses by the time Jaskier gets to him. Part one is based on the Geralt Whump Week day four prompt of betrayal and part two is based on the day five prompt of loneliness

AO3 | Tumblr 1 | 2 | 3

Even if it Hurts (Even if it Makes Me Bleed) | E | 25,074 Words | No Warnings Apply

Is that a pickup line? Maybe. It’s the worst one Geralt has ever heard in his very long life, but that isn’t the problem. The problem races, red hot down the length of his forearm, pooling uncomfortably around his soulmark. The scrawled out writing on the underside of his wrist had told Geralt the first thing his soulmate was going to say to him as soon as he could read. Silly as it had sounded, it’s even more ridiculous out loud.

To say Geralt is not a fan of destiny is a monumental understatement. Given the fact that the soul mark scrawled out on his wrist is the worst pickup line he's ever heard, he doesn't anticipate his soulmate being any more welcome than anything else that life has saddled him with. But the longer he spends with Jaskier, the harder his soulmate is to resist, and somewhere along the way Geralt knows he'll have to reckon with whether his feelings are manufactured by kismet or truly his own.

AO3 | Tumblr

Once Written in the Stars | E | 15,512 Words (WIP) | No Warnings Apply When Geralt accidentally trespasses on a fae forest, only the unexpected kindness of one of the forest's inhabitants saves him. Unfortunately, it also leaves him saddled with a travel companion who has never really met a human, let alone thought about how to play at being one. It goes about as well as you'd think. AO3 | Tumblr 1 | 2 | 3

Art Stuff

Geraskier Gif Set Set to Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Teng 

Geraskier Image Set  Set to Civil War by @sincerelyjoanna-blog-blog

Geraskier Watercolor Edit