#this is probably the longest piece ive done in awhile

[darkdakota8998]

“Memories”

rbs very appreciated!!

[travelagentforguilttrips]

Wrong Place, Wrong Oxygen Tank

Whumptober: Prompt 25

I think I’ll just collapse right here, thanks | disorientation, blurred vision

——

Johnny and Roy split up going opposite directions down the fire filled hallways. They keep calling out for any possible victims, though they may not be heard over the roar of the fire blazing in the apartment building.

Johnny walks into another apartment looking around before something on the floor catches his eyes. It’s a home oxygen tank.

Johnny sees the flames moving towards the tank and he tries to get away as fast as he can, but clearly not fast enough.

The tank explodes with a loud boom sending debris flying all over, a piece of debris striking Johnny, who had lost his helmet in the explosion, in the head. Johnny falls to the floor unconscious.

Roy had cleared his half of the building and was heading back downstairs when the explosion occurred. Roy grabs the railing as there’s a slight rumble in the building before it settles. He picks up the pace walking down the stair to the final floor and walks down the hallway to investigate what happened.

And where’s Johnny? He should be done by now.

Roy looks through rooms on his way down the hallway of the first floor, then he sees a lump on the ground outside one of the apartments. Roy runs over and carefully flips Johnny onto his back, he glances into the room and sees the flames have completely taken it over as pieces of the roof begin to fall. Roy needs to get them out of there.

Chancing worsening any of Johnny’s possible injuries, Roy lifts him over his shoulder and quickly makes his way outside. Roy lies Johnny down on a triage blanket next to the only other victim, a man with smoke inhalation, and quickly pulls his jacket off.

Roy grabs the bio phone and brings it up to his ear, “Rampart this is squad 51...”

Johnny moans as he feels awareness come back to him, and with that awareness- a killer headache. He feels confused as to why there’s a mask strapped to his face and tries to shove the annoyance off with a clumsy hand, a hand that is grabbed gently and pushed back down. Johnny can distantly hear Roy talking. Johnny sees a blur lean over him, oh wait, that’s Roy.

“-lost consciousness for approximately five minutes, he is now awake though disoriented, his pupils are dilated-“

Johnny tries to roll his head to the side to escape the noise but finds he can’t move it, what’s going on? What on earth happened?

Johnny can feel himself lifted onto a gurney and into an ambulance for what seems like a minute long ride, because before Johnny realizes, it’s over and he is being pulled out of the back and into the emergency room.

Johnnys eyes drift shut as he loses his tentative grasp on consciousness.

—-

Roy is sitting in the doctors lounge, nursing his cup of coffee. He has to admit that this is one of his longest lasting cups of coffee in awhile. The door opens and Dr. Brackett walks in and grabs a cup and fills it with coffee, then sits at the table across from Roy.

“Johnny‘ll be alright, it’s just a concussion and a couple minor cuts. We’ll keep him overnight for observation and if he is better in the morning he should be able to be released. He’ll be back to riding shotgun with you in no time, Roy. Don’t worry,” Brackett smiles reassuringly. “You probably want to check on him though so why don’t you do that now so you can go get some sleep too, he’ll probably be out all night. He’s in room 209.” Brackett nods his head to the door at Roy with a knowing look on his face.

Roy colors in embarrassment before nodding and moving to rinse his cup out, “Thanks doc.” Roy heads to the door after patting Brackett’s shoulder twice in thanks.

Brackett nods and chugs the rest of his coffee as Roy leaves, he has a long night ahead of him. Dr. Brackett gets up and rinses his cup out before heading back out to the ER after hearing his name paged over the intercom.

Roy makes his way up to Johnny’s room to check on him quickly before he goes back down the ER to meet with his temporary partner. Roy’s just lucky his partner was understanding and let him wait till they had heard about Johnny before asking to go back to the station.

Roy walks out to the squad and sees the other man hopping into the squad and gets into the drivers seat. Roy backs out and makes his way to the station for a long awaited rest.

—-

Roy walks through the hallway of the second floor of Rampart, headed towards his partners room. When he gets to the doorway he knocks before walking inside, and sees Johnny’s IV being taken out. Roy tosses the clothes to Johnny who smiles gratefully.

“Morning Junior,” Roy says looking at Johnny who is squirming around as the nurse admonishes him for messing up her bandaging job.

“Good morning Pally! Anymore runs after I was taken out of commission last night?” Johnny asks smiling.

“Just one, heart attack. But the guy made it to the hospital alright and they were able to stabilize him,” Roy says and nods to the nurse with a smile as she leaves.

“Well that’s just great, it’s a good morning Roy! Brackett’s not keeping me awhile for no reason and your night went pretty great too,” Johnny gets up and starts changing into his clothes. “Man I can’t wait to get some breakfast, I’m starving.”

Roy shakes his head in amusement before putting his hand on his friends shoulder while they walk out of the room, “Well JoAnne’s got some pancakes going for us to eat when we get home.” Roy stops when he sees Dixie approach with a wheelchair.

“John Gage you better sit your butt in this chair right now, you know it’s hospital policy to take a wheel chair out.” Dixie scowls pointing down to the chair.

Johnny pouts and sits in the chair while Roy chuckles, “Sorry Junior, I tried to get you around it.”

Johnny rolls his eyes as Dixie turns the chair towards the elevator and the group makes their way out.

Johnny is more than ready to get over to Roy’s and eat something, he’s starving.

[unfallen-angel]

Winds and Storms PT. 7

MASTERLIST // PART 6 // PART 8

WARNING: language and some steamy lip locking. Some angst and some fluff.

WC: 4k

There is one part at the end that I had this song playing in my head the entire time. I’ll post the link again at the spot in the story. Hope you guys like it! Tag list is open!

Deep breath in. Hold it. Release. Repeat.

Over and over. It seems to be a never ending cycle.

You sit upright in a white plush chair in one of the many labs in the mansion. Bruce and Tony are in the next room over, but you can see them through the wall of glass separating you. Their heads are close together and bent over the mass of computer screens. With a sigh, you shift uncomfortably, trying not to dislodge the IV that was sticking in your arm. Bruce runs his fingers through his hair and glances up at you with a forced smile. Your stomach drops and you close your eyes, trying to block everything out as you sit in silence.

It had been two weeks since the attack on the mansion. Two weeks since you had your first meltdown, but it wasn't the only one. You had been plagued with nightmares every night since then. Broken fragments of memories that you couldn't quite place but felt familiar all the same. Unnamed fears that crippled your entire body and threatened loss of consciousness. All of these things were also accompanied by anger and heartache.

The anger came from so many things. Not understanding yourself anymore, not being able to control yourself, not trusting yourself around the team anymore, not being able to read Bucky, being treated as a lab rat, the list goes on and on. But the heartache, that mainly comes from knowing that you have feelings for Bucky that are not reciprocated. Knowing that he only wants to use you for a release and nothing more, and what's worse, you're considering letting him.

"Alright. I think we're done for the day." Tony steps into the room with a bag of blueberries. "You doing okay?" You nod, but keep your eyes closed, fighting off the nausea that is building in your stomach, as he removes the IV. "Everything looks good. We've isolated a few more genomes from your DNA. It would probably be better if you go to -"

"No. I'm not going to Wakanda for the panthers to dissect my brain and probe around in there," you say tightly and squeeze your eyes even tighter.

"It worked so well for James. If you would just consider it," Bruce says quietly. You hadn't heard him come in. "You don't have to stay there forever."

"No." You say again and hop off the chair. "I'm fine right where I am."

"Oh sure. Your nightmares are getting worse. You hardly sleep. You walk around like a member of the Walking Dead, and you are training so brutally I've had to replace most of the equipment."

"How do you know it was me? It could have been Steve or Bucky on a bad day," you say weakly. "I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry I'm such a fucked up mess." You storm out of the room without another word. Your stomach churns angrily as you climb the stairs two at a time, heading toward the south side of the roof. Your favorite spot because it overlooks the river.

You lean your back against the wall and slide to the ground, pressing your forehead against your knees. Silent tears slide down your cheeks as your mind races. The dull ache blooms in your chest as your fingers curl around your ankles and take a shaky breath. The sound of footsteps causes you to jump and hastily wipe your face with your sleeve.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't think anyone else would be up here," Bucky's voice was quiet. You look up in time to see him run his fingers through his hair and start to turn away, but he stops. "Are you okay? Are you crying?" Bucky kneels in front of you, but you can't meet his eyes.

"I'm fine," you whisper and try to shift away from him. "I'm fine." This seems to be your new catch phrase.

"More tests?" He asks softly, tilting his head to the side. "Did they find anything new? Anything helpful?"

Shaking your head, you peek up at him from under your lashes and your heart squeezes painfully. "No. Everything is the same. No new news. No changes."

"Then why are you so upset?" He pressed. His fingers flexed in front of him, but he made no move to reach out.

"I'm just tired. I've been having nightmares. I'm frustrated and I cry when I'm frustrated," you explain and close your eyes again. You inhale deeply through your nose and let it out through your mouth. "They want to send me to Wakanda," you whisper softly and fight back tears again.

Bucky's face falls and he leans back just a little, as if he's trying to put some space between the two of you. "Oh. It's a beautiful place," he offered, but he didn't sound sincere. You nod once and wipe your cheeks again. "When do you leave?" He's stoic, but you swear you hear a hint of emotion in his voice.

"I'm not going," you say firmly and clench your fists. "I don't want to go to a strange place and have the probe around in my brain." Your lips press together suddenly and you look at him apologetically. "Sorry."

"For what? I volunteered. I knew that I needed help, and they were the best. They nearly fixed me. I still have a lot of issues to sort through on my own, but I don't feel controlled or afraid of who I am anymore." Bucky stops and looks at you for a long while before reaching out with his flesh hand and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Maybe you should go. If anyone can help you, they can."

"Look, Bucky, I get that they helped you and it was great, but I don't even know what's wrong with me. I want to figure it out for myself before I let everyone and their brother fuck around in my brain." You almost lean into his hand, but stop yourself. Longing for his touch is something that you try not to do because it is too painful. pulling yourself together, you start to stand.

Bucky reaches out suddenly and grabs your wrist gently. "Wait. I didn't mean to push you. Stay. We can talk a little bit." He smiles, but it doesn't touch his eyes. "To get your mind off of everything."

"Thanks, but I don't think that's a good idea." And it isn't a good idea. Every time you look at him, you want to lean forward those few inches and kiss him again and again, but you know that you're heart can't take it at this fragile time in your life.

"Why not?" Bucky scoffs, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. "We're friends, right? We can sit and talk about things like civilized people, can't we?"

"We could," you agree cautiously. "But I still don't think I can." Biting your lip, you turn to walk away, but Bucky doesn't let go of your arm. "Bucky, come on." You pull your arm, but his grip tightens. "I can't."

"Why not?" He demands. "Do you have somewhere else you need to be? Got a hot date or something?"

"No. I don't." With a sigh of defeat, you sink back to the ground beside him. There were several valid reasons that you could think of, but none of them you could tell him. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"What's your favorite song?" He asks suddenly, randomly. He smirks at your expression.

"So we're going to play 20 questions then?" He nods once. "Alright then."

You answer all of his questions and he answers all of yours. The two of you sit and talk for hours, laughing at bad jokes and stories from the past. You let yourself relax a little and open up to Bucky and he does the same. It felt good to just sit and talk to someone, the conversation aimless. No purpose or double meaning. Just two people getting to know each other.

"Do you feel better?" Bucky asks after you stop laughing from his story of Coney Island and Steve getting sick on the rides.

Nodding slowly, you notice just how relaxed you feel. The knots in your stomach or gone and the ache in your chest is dull, barely noticable. "I do actually. I think this is the longest conversation I've had in awhile. I feel almost human again."

"I know what you mean," he chuckles and you forget to breathe. The sound of his laugh only makes you ache for him even more. He shifts his weight from where he is sitting beside you, pulling one of his knees to his chest and leaving his other leg extended. His leg and arm bump against your side a few times, bringing chill bumps to your skin despite the warm weather. "Hey listen..." He stops talking and fidgets with a spot on his dark jeans.

"What?" warily, you cut your eyes at him and bite your lip.

"I, uh, I think you should really consider going to Wakanda for a while," Bucky says slowly, not looking at you.

It felt as though you've  been kicked in the gut. The dull ache in your chest erupts into white hot pain. Your eyes start to burn again as tears start to form. Of course he thought you should go to Wakanda. You were broken and needed some serious fixing. No one wanted to deal with your issues here. Wiping your face before he can see your tears, you sniff once. "Right. That's great, James, thanks for your input," you snap and turn away from him.

"No! That's not what... I didn't mean to..." He was searching for the right words, but couldn't seem to find any. "I think it would be good for you to get away from this place for a while. Everything has been quite and we haven't had a mission in weeks. Tony would be happy to let you borrow a jet for a while. Maybe not without supervision."

"Did he tell you to say that? Is that why you're here and why you wanted to talk to me? Did Tony put you up to this?" Unbelievable. You didn't bother trying to hide your anger.

"Geez, y/n, no! I just wanted to talk to you because I haven't seen you in a while."

"You see me everyday," you retort bitterly.

"Yes, but you haven't been you. I just wanted to see you and talk to the old you." He lets out a long sigh and stands. "I'm not trying to push you. I just think you'll enjoy it. I know I wouldn't mind going back to Wakanda for a while," Bucky admits after a long pause.

"Then come with me," you say suddenly and turn to face him. "I'll go... But I want you to come with me." It was a long shot, but maybe if you didn't go alone it wouldn't be as bad. If you had someone to talk to, someone you knew well, maybe you wouldn't feel so isolated.

"Y/n," he whispers and closes his eyes. "Wouldn't you feel more comfortable with Wanda or Nat going? I'm not sure I'm the guy for that." Bucky pauses again, shifting uncomfortably. "Listen, Y/n, I don't know what you're thinking... But I'm not the guy for you."

The ache in your chest surged again. It was an overwhelming throbbing now, something that you could no longer ignore. Nodding your head, you stand up so suddenly that you almost knock Bucky over. "Okay. I get it. Message received." Your voice broke as tears begin to flow down you face. "Sorry," you whisper and bolt for the door. "Thanks for talking to me, Bucky," you call over your shoulder. Without a second glance, you disappear.

If you had looked back, you would have seen the pain and regret painted on Bucky's face. You would have seen how his fists were clenched at his sides and how his eyes glistened just a little. And how his breathing was shallow, like he couldn't take a deep breath because it hurt too much. You would have seen that his words were a lie, but you never turned around.

***

"Okay, Stark, I'll go." You are standing in the doorway of his lab, fidgeting with a small tear on the pocket of your jeans.

Tony looks up, shocked but pleased, and sets his tools down. "I don't think you'll regret this. You can stay as long as you'd like or leave as soon as you want. I'll confirm everything. Suri will be excited that she'll have something meaningful to do now." He leaves the room, muttering to himself.

You try to convince yourself that you had made the right decision, but you still didn't feel great about it. Taking a deep breath, you head to your room to hide from reality for a while.

***

You shift in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of your dress again, trying to get the fabric to lay right. Your hair fell in soft waves down your shoulders, and your makeup was minimal but affected.

"You look fine! Come on the party started half an hour ago!" Wanda says with a heavy sigh. "Tony is throwing this party for you, you know, you should at least show up!"

"Oh Tony would through a party for any reason! My leaving is just the most recent event that warrants some big gathering in his opinion," you mutter and tuck your hair behind your ears. Casting one more look over your shoulder, you follow Wanda out of the room and toward the sound of people laughing and music playing. "Oh my gosh," you whisper as you walk through the door. There were hundreds of people milling around, talking and dancing and laughing. "I'm going to need a drink." Wanda nods as you push through the throngs of people trying to get to the bar.

"Wow! You look fantastic! You sure clean up good!" Sam whistled and laughs when you approach where he is sitting at the bar. "Leave it to Tony to turn a goodbye party into a several hundred people event!" He sweeps his arms out, gesturing around the room.

"Thanks. And yeah. I know. I actually was expecting this, but it still doesn't make me feel any better." You sit beside Sam and order a drink. The bartender pours it and hands it to you immediately. "Thanks," you mutter and turn to survey the room. The music was pulsating, but it wasn't really loud. It was more like constant background noise. People were dancing in the center of the room, shouting and laughing loudly. Some people even appeared to be drunk already.

"Hey, Sam. Y/n," Steve greets you with a smile and a hug. "Packed and ready to go?" You nod and he smiles even wider, like he's got a secret that he's dying to tell. "Good. Have you guys seen Bucky? He was supposed to train with me before the party, but I haven't seen him all day."

"No I haven't seen him since we talked two days ago," you admit sheepishly and scan the room, looking for the super soldier. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere. I didn't figure he would come tonight because of all the people."

"Oh, I don't think he'd miss this," Sam mutters under his breath. Steve elbows Sam in the ribs and chuckles. You look at both of them curiously but say nothing. "Well, this has been a fun talk, but I'm going to go dance now. Care to join me?" Sam asks looking over at you.

"Oh no. I don't dance. And I don't do well with large crowds. I'm going to stay right here and people watch." You take a sip of your drink and Sam shrugs, disappearing into the sea of people.

Steve shakes his head. "I'm going to go find Tony." He too disappears into the crowd, leaving you alone at the bar. Tilting back the glass, you down the rest of your drink and signal the bartender for another one.

You smile and hold polite conversations with several people that pass by or stop to order drinks, but you never venture very far. You prefer to just sit and watch. After your fourth drink, you start to feel warm and fuzzy. You relax and speak a little more freely as people approach you, but still keep your guard up with unfamiliar people.

"You look amazing, doll," Bucky's voice purrs in your ear. He speaks loud enough for you to hear over the music. "Having fun tonight?"

Nodding, you smile up at him and watch his face break into a large grin. "I'm having a blast. I'm watching people dance and make fools of themselves."

"Well that does sound like a good time. Mind if I join you?" He chuckles and sits beside you.

"I actually was just about to go. I have to pee," you whisper and blush as you get to your feet. You wobble a few times before regaining your balance.

"Are you okay? You gonna make it?" He's laughing at you. You smile back at him and enjoy the warm feeling that settled in your stomach as soon as Bucky sat down. "Need some help?"

"No, no, Bucky. You can't go in with me! It's the LADIES room. You're not a lady." You giggle and grab his biceps to hold yourself up. Your fingers flex around his muscles and you sigh quietly, letting yourself imagine being wrapped in his arms.

"You okay? Hello?" Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and helps you walk to the restroom. "There you go. I'll be right here, okay?" You nod and giggle again as you walk into the bathroom. Once you're finished, you stumble back out and into Bucky's arms. "Whoa. Let's get you to bed. I think you party is over."

You nod slowly and press your lips together. They are numb. "I can do it!" you protest and struggle weakly against him. His arms tighten around you as he pulls you down the hallway. He stops at your room, opens the door, and gently pulls you inside. "Thank you. You can go now," you whisper, your heart still stinging from your last conversation with Bucky. Your lower lip quivers as you sink onto the bed, your body sagging visibly as you realize this is your last night at the mansion. Bucky just nods, looking torn, and turns to leave. "Bucky," you whisper softly and he turns.

**Insert song now**

"What's wrong?" He asks when he notices your lip trembling. He stands there for a moment, visibly warring with himself. "Doll," he sighs and moves in front of you. He pulls you up and wraps his arms tightly around you. "You're going to be the death of me, doll," he whispers against your hair. You feel a soft pressure on the top of your head and realize that it's his lips peppering kisses against your hair.

"Don't die," you say weakly and lean into him, breathing deeply. Memorizing his scent and the way he feels against you. Storing them in your mind so that you would never forget, no matter how long you're away.

Bucky leans back, but doesn't let you go. A broad grin stretches across his face. "But if you're the death of me, Darlin', I wanna die." He kisses you, softly at first. Just light pecks against your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him against you. Bucky deepens the kiss with a quiet moan, his fingers tightening around your waist, holding you firmly against his body.

A shudder snakes up your spine as you knot your fingers in his hair and trace your tongue along his bottom lip, nipping lightly. His tongue slides into your mouth and dances with yours as you groan loudly, tugging his hair sharply. You feel a warm pooling between your legs as you grind yourself against him. He pulls away slowly, looking down at you. His pupils are dark and his breathing is shallow. "Y/n," he whispers your name like a prayer. Bucky pulls you against him once more, enveloping you in a tight hug and rests his chin on the top of your head.

"What's wrong?" You whisper breathlessly and press your ear against his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart.

"You've had too much to drink. I don't want to do this like this. I don't want to do something that you'll regret once your sober," he says quietly, not letting you go.

"I'm not going to regret it," you assure him and press your lips to his clothed chest. You smile to yourself at Bucky being the perfect gentlemen. You wondered if this is how the old Bucky was. Always considerate and always the gentlemen.

"No," he says again and steps away from you. "I've already messed a lot of things up, but I'm not going to mess this up. I'm not saying I don't want to!" he reassures you when he sees your face fall. "I just want to do it right," he whispers. "Not with you tipsy and not on the night before we leave. Here." He hands you the pajamas that had been sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Okay, okay. You're such a gentlemen," you say with a small smile and duck into the bathroom to change, but you leave the door slightly open. "Hey, Bucky?" you say after a few moments. He grunts in response. "Even if nothing happens tonight...Can you stay here. I sleep a little better when I'm not alone," you admit timidly. You pull on your sleep shirt and shorts and walk back into the bedroom.

"Sure thing." Bucky starts to remove his clothes. It was at that point that you actually notice what he was wearing. Black dress pants, white dress shirt, black bow tie, and black suit jacket. His brown hair was dishevelled from your kiss earlier and his scruffy chin seems a bit more groomed. He looked so good. Bucky looks over at you and his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "I can't sleep in these. I'll roast." You nod an okay and he removes his shirt and pants.

Now it's your turn to blush as you turn away from him and giggle at the absurdity of this situation. Bucky was here, in your room, in nothing but his boxers. He climbs onto your bed and lays on top of the blankets. You turn on your fan and slip into bed beside him. "I sleep with the fan on high, so it might get a little cold in here," you warn him and turn off the lamp.

"I think I'll be okay," he responds with a yawn.

With a small smile, you roll onto your side and curl up against Bucky. He slides his metal arm under your head so you can rest your head on his chest. You sigh deeply and nuzzle your nose against him, already feeling your eyelids drooping. You feel him tense and shift his body away from you slightly. You feel him breathing and listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. Something he said earlier teases your consciousness. "Bucky?"

"Hmm?" he shifts slightly so he can see you in the dark.

"Earlier, when we were, um, kissing." Your cheeks heat up. "You said we."

"We?" he asks sleepily.

"Yeah. You said 'not the night before we leave,'" you whisper quietly and tilt your face up to look at him.

"Oh." he smiles softly. "I did say that didn't I." He doesn't say anything else for a long while.

"What did you mean?" You wait for him to admit that he had just misspoken, but he remains silent. "Are you asleep?" You whisper and reach for his face. Your fingers ghost along his chin.

"I'm awake," he whispers back. "I said we because I'm going with you. I talked to Tony and packed my bags today. Unless..." he leans his face into your palm. "Unless you changed your mind and don't want me to go anymore."

You can hear the smile in his voice. "No. I'm happy you're going with me," you whisper with a yawn. You fall asleep with a smile on your face.

TAGLIST: @ivartheblessed @hadesgirl1015 @yafriendlyfangirl

[thewritingstar]

All the emojis cause I'm bored and u been incognito and I miss reading your fics 🙃🙃🙃

Im sorry ive been incognito. I just finished up my hardest semester of my school ( my gpa went from 3.8 to 3.7 smh) Had my ass handed to me by some hard classes. Also some shit went down with stuff being stolen from me (don't worry its all fine) also there is a spider in my bathroom rn and I am scared . Anyways I have a bunch of fics planned but ive been focused on my commissions firsts.

But y'all don't care about that so lets answer some questions!

🌗 fluff or angst?

-this is a really difficult one because I have never written angst before.

No but seriously, its angst. I feel like I am terrible at fluffy stuff.

🧑 favorite character to write?

-Juvia from FairyTail. She is one of the easiest characters to write because I love her so much and her character is fun to play with. I also really like writing Soul from Soul Eater even though I only have two fics (published, I got like five in the drafts lol)

I also really love writing Blossom and Butch from Powerpuff Girls

💕 favorite ship to write?

-I have favorite ships of fandoms but for now my top is def Gruvia, Blossutch, SoMa and Blossick.

📚 favorite fandom for write for?

-Probably FairyTail or Powerpuff Girls. Although I want to expand my list.

🍑 do you/would you write smut?

-Im not good at it but I can/ have

🥰 fave fic you’ve written?

- I really loved my 200th fic Beautiful Revelations Its very special to me because it shows how far ive come as a writer.

🏆fic youre most proud of?

-I honestly really loved my commission piece, The Freedom Of Being Yours Its a Blossick fic and its one of my longest fics too (about 7.8k)

I also really loved Incinerate but it didn't do as well as my other fics lol . Its a very angsty Blossutch.

-And I really liked Hopelessly Devoted To You my first SoMa Fic <3

💎 fave trope to write?

-I don't think I write tropes very often? but, friends to Lovers. I sense that my fics tend to be a lot of first confessions but all of them start off as friends first and then go on to explore emotions.

-But also any trope that breaks your heart so I can fix it cause im evil

🌍fave type of au to write?

-I don't have a bunch of au's but I do enjoy spy and royalty aus. I prefer to read them than write them myself lol.

🍄how do you get yourself in the mood to write?

-Sometimes its easy as im just in the mood or I force myself to get stuff done. Sometimes I'll read someone else's fic and then im like "time to write" and other times I just start typing and ten mins later, I post it.

Also any time someone drops an idea or request into my ask box it really gets me thinking.

💡what inspires your fic ideas?

-Music, quotes, artwork..honestly inspiration comes from everywhere (I know what a cliche)

🕶canonverse or au?

-I tend to write a lot more canonverse. I like already having the environment and setting handed to me so then I get to run wild and tweak it. But I do love a good au once in awhile.

📒any fics planned?

-I have a boomer x buttercup fic in the works, some SoMa, a few Blossutch (really tragic one too), A LadyNoir and a couple others :)

🎤fave line in a fic you wrote?

Imma put down a few lol

"It almost hurt to think about it not being true. Maybe this was a lie? A facade he made up to make her dance in his hands like a ballerina glued to a music box. A box that played a melody so incredibly wonderful, she never wanted to stop turning." - Melody of Loving You

"She sat at his grave, tracing his name slowly and she prayed that she never forgot the sound of his voice or the smell of his clothes. The feeling of his hands and the texture of his lips had faded like a whisper and before she realized what was happening, it was gone." - To Learn To Love Again

“Even in the darkest corners of my house, I found indulgence and light with you.” Blossom said. -The Freedom of Being Yours

🎁 have a quote from a WIP?

This is from my boomer x buttercup fic:

There’s a whisper that leaves her lips. Only his ears pick it up as he kisses her softly. She stares up at him, those eyes a shade of the ocean that she commits to memory. In every way that she isn’t, he’s perfect.

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Sorry for being dead and not posting but I hope you enjoyed these! Remember you can always drop into my ask box/ dos. Fic requests are always open too!

[meme-and-askbox]

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

1. What is you middle name?     Rae, and I don't hate it as much as I did when I was younger.  In fact, if I ever get published, my pen name is going to be Rae (redacted).

2. How old are you?     43, physically.  Emotionally, 3 or 300, given any particular day 3. When is your birthday?     15 October. 4. What is your zodiac sign?     Libra, and boy, am I ever. 5. What is your favorite color?     Purple, black, fushchia, aqua. 6. What’s your lucky number?     Don't have one.  I don't have luck. 7. Do you have any pets?     I have two.  Fucko and Harpo.  Actually, they're cats, named Sam (Samhain Murray) and Maggie (after Maggie the Cat in Gargoyles) 8. Where are you from?     North Carolina.  Lil bit outside Charlotte. 9. How tall are you?     It says 5'7 on my license, but.  It's probably more like 5'5 10. What shoe size are you?      Ladies 11 wide, Men's 8-9 depending on the shoe. 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?      5.  Two pairs of Sketchers, a black pair I keep for funerals, a pair of suede ankle boots, and a pair of Harley Davidson biker boots. 12. What was your last dream about?      Roxy the pink police poodle.  She's a recurring dream, and I'm working on turning her and her handler into a novel. 13. What talents do you have?     I don't suck at writing.  I have pretty phenomenal reading retention; I can't tell you page numbers or anything, but I can recall that I read article X, and in it, they said A, B, and C.  I'm good with most non-reptile animals. 14. Are you psychic in any way?     Occasionally I have dreams that come true later, and I get odd flashes of deja vu, in that I'm certain I've done this before but I don't quite remember when. 15. Favorite song?     At the moment, it's "Glitter and Gold" by Barns Courtney 16. Favorite movie?     Sleeping Beauty. I can watch it a million times. 17. Who would be your ideal partner?     oh, oi.  I have no idea, because I don't want a partner.  I guess my ideal would be someone who had the same interests as me, and who didn't mind being either fucked off and left alone, or attended to every whim as the need occurs.  I'd honestly like to have someone to talk TV/Movies/Books with, have a cuddle every now and again, then fuck off to your own thing. 18. Do you want children?     Fuck no.  But even if I did, I couldn't have 'em anymore.  All the lady parts got surgically removed in my 20s. 19. Do you want a church wedding?     Do you WANT me to combust on the spot? 20. Are you religious?     More than I'd admit to, but less than my fam would like me to be. 21. Have you ever been to the hospital?     For myself?  Yes.  For someone else?  Yes. 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?     Do speeding tickets count?  Cause I had a couple. 23. Have you ever met any celebrities?     I have!  I used to hit the Star Trek convention circuit pretty heavy and I met most of the TOS cast, and the TNG cast too.  My favorite is John deLancie. 24. Baths or showers?     Showers, please. 25. What color socks are you wearing?     White with purple toes and heels. 26. Have you ever been famous?     Christ I hope not. 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?     I'd like to be a Stephen-King level celeb, but not much more. 28. What type of music do you like?     80s and 90s.  I tuned out of music around 2000. 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?     Uh, yes. 30. How many pillows do you sleep with?     5.  Three for my head, one between my knees, one tucked under my hip. 31. What position do you usually sleep in?     On my side, but lately it's been 50%-50% side/belly. 32. How big is your house?     3br, 2ba modular home.  So maybe 2000-ish sq ft? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast?     I don't.  I hate breakfast.  But because I take insulin, I usually scarf down some yogurt or Lance crackers. 34. Have you ever fired a gun?     Yes.  I enjoy guns even though I don't really own any.  My uncles both have/had huge collections, and I got my love from them.  But I know myself well enough to know that with my temper and my past suicidal tendencies, having a gun in the house would not end well. 35. Have you ever tried archery?     Nope 36. Favorite clean word?       Fudgin'. 37. Favorite swear word?     Fuck.  It's so versatile. 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?     48 hours. 39. Do you have any scars?     Quite a few. 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?     Not a real one.  I thought I had one for awhile in high school, but it turned out to be a joke some of the guys on my bus route played on me. 41. Are you a good liar?     Depends on the subject.  In the small things, yes.  "Does this make my ass look big?"  "No, of course not."  But on the big stuff?  No.  I don't lie well. 42. Are you a good judge of character?     Nope.  I'd like to think I am, but I have a string of disastrous ex-friendships and relationships in my wake to prove that I am, in fact, a shitty judge of character. 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?      Not convincingly. 44. Do you have a strong accent?     Some people say I do.  I don't hear it, but then, I'm surrounded by it. 45. What is your favorite accent?     British, Scots, Irish, Spanish, Greek, Italian.  In that order. 46. What is your personality type?      INFJ, if I remember right. 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?       My Harley boots. 48. Can you curl your tongue?      Nope. 49. Are you an innie or an outie?     Innie! 50. Left or right handed?     Right.  My dad was a leftie, though 51. Are you scared of spiders?      Nah, not really.  If I see one, I just burn the house down and go about my life.  Yes, I'm terrified of the little ELFs. 52. Favorite food?     Chicken and rice.  Cook the rice in chicken broth, simmer the chicken in with it, throw in a can of cream of chicken soup, stir, simmer until hot, and serve.  Best thing EVER. 53. Favorite foreign food?     Chinese.  Cashew Chicken, Orange Chicken, Sweet & Sour Pork 54. Are you a clean or messy person?     Messy.  Cluttery.  Two Steps Away From Hoarding.  Take your pick. 55. Most used phrased?     Some variation of "fuck."  Lately, "fuck me." 56. Most used word?      See above, re: fuck 57. How long does it take for you to get ready?     If I'm showering first, about twenty minutes.  If I'm just getting dressed, about ten. 58. Do you have much of an ego?     I'd like to say no, but yes, I do. 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?     Suck, baby. 60. Do you talk to yourself?     Sometimes I'm the only one who listens to me. 61. Do you sing to yourself?     Constantly, especially in the shower or when I'm cleaning. 62. Are you a good singer?     Fuck no. 63. Biggest Fear?     Snakes. 64. Are you a gossip?     Sometimes, especially with my besties. 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?     Backdraft.  "You go... we go!" 66. Do you like long or short hair?     Shooooooooort. 67. Can you name all 50 states of America?     At one time I could.  But thanks to Yakko Warner, I can name all the countries of the world. 68. Favorite school subject?     Creative writing and physics.  I failed physics at the time, but I can tell, now that I understand most of it (thank you, Mythbusters!) that I would have loved it. 69. Extrovert or Introvert?     An extroverted introvert.  I don't MIND being around people, but I really would be happier with my own company.  But, when I am with other people, I am gregarious to the point of obnoxious. 70. Have you ever been scuba diving?     Nope. 71. What makes you nervous?     Practically everything. 72. Are you scared of the dark?     Nope.  Not since I was like, seven. 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?     They don't call me Grammar Nazi for nothing... 74. Are you ticklish?      I refuse to answer on the grounds it might be used against me. 75. Have you ever started a rumor?      Nope, but I've certainly helped pass them along. 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?       Yep, I used to be manager of my office.  Hated it. 77. Have you ever drank underage?       Yep. 78. Have you ever done drugs?       Nope.  I don't like needles, and I don't have the cash. 79. Who was your first real crush?        Wayne E.  He looked so handsome in his ROTC uniform, and he was always nice and friendly with me and my BFF JC.  We both had huge crushes on him, but he was a few grades ahead of us, so I don't think we registered except as friends.  But that was okay. 80. How many piercings do you have?    Four.  Two in each ear. 81. Can you roll your Rs?     Thanks to Sra. Iglacia, yes.  Took her two whole semesters, but she got the whole flaming lot of us Southern kids rolling our Rs. 82. How fast can you type?    80ish WPM, last time I took a test. 83. How fast can you run?     I think a snail outpaced me. 84. What color is your hair?     A nice chocolately brown, with highlights trending a little auburn. 85. What color is your eyes?     Cornflower-type hazel. 86. What are you allergic to?     Mobic, IV contrast dye, Ciprofloxacin, medical-grate latex, ragweed and oak pollens, dumbasses. 87. Do you keep a journal?     Not in a few years, no.  I stopped when my dad died, idk why. 88. What do your parents do?     My dad's passed away, but before he died he was disabled, and before THAT, he was a computer systems programmer and analyst for Piedmont Natural Gas and Bank of America.  Mom's retired and disabled now with back problems, but she was an LPN before that. 89. Do you like your age?     No.  I hate being a responsible grown-up.  I want to be ten or eleven again, old enough to know things, but young enough not to be responsible for anything other than basic chores, and I still got allowance. 90. What makes you angry?     Practically everything, at some point.  My family puts it as I have a wild hair across my ass and it'll go off anytime. 91. Do you like your own name?     It's not a bad little name, but I always liked Daphne better. 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?    Fuck no.  Ugh. 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?     NEITHER.  I want cats.  or dogs.  or fish.  or a bird, I think I could love a bird.  or a turtle. 94. What are you strengths?    I'm loyal to a fault; if you're my friend, I am always in your corner and I will 100% throw hands with the first motherfucker who looks at you wrong. 95. What are your weaknesses?    Impulsive, careless, stubborn 96. How did you get your name?     My Dad's uncle (Kelly) and my mother's father (Ray became Rae).  Can you tell they were expecting a boy and got me? 97. Were your ancestors royalty?     Christ, no.  They were poor Irish. 98. Do you have any scars?     ...didn't we just answer this?  Yes. 99. Color of your bedspread?     Flowered. 100. Color of your room?    White walls, burgundy carpet.

from @evilwriter37  and @marcymakemagic