#where they're 15-18 & are more gay then i can write them

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Race 13)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (3.5k words, angst at first, just a little overthinking, then fluff, Fernandos a big sap, sloppy kissing, they're desperate, choking, daddy kink kinda, dry humping, unprotected sex, overstim) [@v3lnys @biancathecool] {Now that they can be cute this is so easy to write}

last part - masterlist - next part

It'd only been a few days since Lance and Fernando had seen eachother so it made no sense for them to be as excited as they were but that didn't change anything.

Lance had persuaded his father yet again to book the same hotel as the Spaniard, not wanting to spend a moment away from him now that they were together.

They were together, right?

Lance hadn't gotten a straight answer, ahen he asked Fernando what they were he felt stupid, he really felt like a teenager as he looked up to the man and uttered the words.

Fernando said he was whatever Lance wanted him to be but he wasn't sure, did Fernando want to be with him? Was it just casual sex? Is this casual to him? Does he do this with everyone? He felt like his head was spinning as he shoved his face into the pillow of his hotel bed.

Lance was getting bored waiting to see the Spaniard again, knowing he'd been booked a later flight so he wouldn't arrive for ages (he texted Lance 10 minutes ago saying he was 15 minutes away)

His stomach was in knots as he thought about seeing Fernando again, worried things would be awkward, worried Fernando was going to say he made a wrong choice, he felt childish for worrying about things like this. He knew Fernando was more mature than the people he'd had little crushes on, nicer than all of them too, but he couldn't stop worrying that he was going to change.

He was torn away from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door, jumping out of his bed and peeking through the peeper before opening the door to the Spaniard. He was about to pull him in when Fernando came forward, pulling the Canadian into his arms

"Missed you so much, mi vida" He whispered, squeezing Lance as the boy giggled

"I missed you too, Nando" He responded, closing the door behind them. Lance's hand found its way to the mans head, running his fingers through his overgrown hair

"How are you? Was the flight fine?" Fernando spoke, pulling away to look at him as they spoke

"I'm good, Nando, we were just texting a few hours ago" Lance smiled, still playing with the mans hair "The flight was good, wished you were there"

"Really? Am here now" Fernando hummed, hands settling on the boys hips "Why did you want me there?"

"Not for anything dirty!" Lance said, hitting Fernandos chest and pulling away with a scoff "Dirty, dirty, dirty!"

"You don't wanna go again, Lancito?" The man frowned, trailing after the boy with a whine, it was funny to see how Fernando acted away from the cameras

"I'm jet lagged" Lance lied, turning away from Fernando to hide the smile on his face

"I could help" Fernando whispered, kissing the boys jaw between his words, earing giggles from the ticklish rookie

"Later" He answered, turning to face the Spaniard who looked fairly pleased with the answer

"I can live with that" He smiled, placing his hands on Lance's cheeks as he brought him closer for a kiss, the Canadian happy to give him what he wanted this time. "You look lovely" He felt the Spaniard whisper against his lips, breaking out into giggles, flustered at the sweetness.

They got to the paddock together, walking and talking before they parted ways to get ready for quali, both of their teammates quick to notice what was going on

"So," Nico started, looking at Lance from his side of the garage "Anything exciting happen last week?"

"Uhm" Lance thought, lifting himself up onto the counter behind him "Not that I can think of"

Nico scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to Lance, mr "i'm not gay"

Fernando was pissed, he'd just gotten pole then his team informed him he was given a 2 second time penalty for some bullshit ass reason. Those two fucking seconds bringing him from p1 to p15.

His irritation subsided when he heard a cheery Canadian coming his way, calling his name in a sing-song tone

"Nandooo"

"Hola, Lancito" He hummed a response, turning around to face Lance as he pulled out the chair next to him

"So, on pole again, feel good to be back?"

"Not anymore" He responded, seeing the confused look on Lance's face "Me and Michael got a time penalty for each part so I'm p15"

"What?" He scoffed, Lance confused at the decision "What'd you do wrong?" He asked, the man just shrugging, Lance felt bad especially considering how he'd just walked in talking about Fernando being p1

"Is alright, am winning the championship still" Fernando added, feeling bad at the sight of the sad boy, glad when his face lit up, knowing Fernando was right.

The race started and Lance was off to a good start, passing De La Rosa once again and getting closer to Button ahead of him, it seemed to be going well until turn 6 when his rear wheels locked up, sending him spinning into the barriers in a matter of seconds, all he could do was groan.

"Are you okay, Lance?" Brad asked, Lance feeling like he'd heard that constantly all season

"Yep, I'm fine, sorry." He responded, getting out of the car just in time to see his boyfriend drive past

He was in his drivers room, laying on his stomach since him and Nico both retired at this point of the race.

He was about to fall asleep when he heard a knock on his drivers room door, sitting up to see who it was "Huh?"

"Lancito, can I come in?" His eyes lit up, Fernando being greeted by a very enthusiastic looking Lance

"Is the race over? That was quick."

"Did not finish, they put my wheel on wrong." Fernando laughed as he stepped in, Lance closing the door to meet the man on the couch

"Isn't this your first retirement in a while?"

"23 races, yeah." He hummed as he sat down, leaning his head on the wall behind him, race suit unzipped half way down to his waist

"I'm sorry, Nando, are you okay?" Lance frowned, leaning his head on the Spaniards shoulder

"Mhm, I do not mind" He nodded, turning to look at Lance as his arm snaked around his waist, pulling the Canadian against him, planting gentle kisses on the side of Lance's face

"You sure? If you were upset I was gonna offer my help.." He whispered, head settling in the crook of the older mans neck to conceal the giggles from the feeling of the mans facial hair brushing against his cheek, leaving soft kisses near the tattoo on his neck.

"Did I say I don't mind? I mean..." He dragged out his words, resituating himself as he pulled Lance onto his lap "I'm so upset, Lancito," Fernando frowned, making eyecontact with the Canadian "It's so sad, I really wanted to do well"

"Oh, my poor Nando," Lance cooed, lips curving up as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the mans forehead, hands settled on his shoulders

"Can you make me feel better, Lancito?" He questioned, looking up at the boy on his lap, pleading eyes admiring the sight of him from above

"Since you're so hurt I guess it's the least I could do" He spoke quietly, well aware of how thin the walls around them were. After he got quiet Fernando was quick to connect their lips, done with waiting for him, it was already enough torture to keep his hands off of Lance all day that now that he could he wasn't planning on holding back.

He started slow again, gentle, not wanting to make the boy overwhlemed but as soon as he could he brushed his tongue on the boys lip, grinning slightly as his lips parted, taking it as a chance to slip his tongue in, refusing to wait before exploring his mouth.

Lance whined quietly, hands gripping tighter onto Fernandos shoulders as he took breaths between each kiss, not wanting to stop the man but he hadn't exactly gotten the hang of kissing yet.

As the kisses got sloppier the two got more desperate, Lance whining quietly as he rocked himself back and forth on the stronger mans lap, adoring the different feeling of this kiss, he liked how it felt to have Fernando somewhat manhandle him.

He was no longer being careful, no longer treating Lance as if he was glass that could shatter at any moment, he was rougher. His hands were gripping him tighter, guiding his hips as he finally pulled back, Lance whining at the loss of the Spaniards lips on his.

"Shh, be patient mi vida" Fernando whispered, turning to lean back further, liking Lance on top.

"Nando, please" He begged, seeing how quick Lance was to get desperate caused Fernandos dick to twitch, Lance grinding down as a response.

The Spaniard groaned, the feeling of Lance pressing down on him made him feel like he was on cloud nine, he knew if he kept moving how he was the boy could easily make him finish untouched. Fernando was truly in awe at how much of a natural Lance was, how quick he was to catch onto things and get good.

"Fernando" Lance muttered, leaning down to rest his head between Fernandos neck and shoulder again

"Si, Lancito?" Fernando spoke "What do you want, mi sol?"

"You, Nando" He breathed, the shorter mans eyes closing at the feeling of Lances lips brushing against his lips "Please, need you so bad" He spoke quietly, part of him scared of being caught but the other eager to know what would happej if he was.

"Okay, baby" Fernando nodded, propping himself up on his elbows as he moved the boy to sit up, wanting to look at him "Move like you were before, Lancito, can you do that for me?" He asked, the Canadian nodding eagerly as he did what the man asked, supporting himself with his two hands on his boyfriends chest as he rocked his hips, eyebrows furrowing at the friction, he'd never considered himself to be horny before but as soon as he found out how it felt to have Fernando in him it was all he wanted.

As Fernando started to guide the boy Lance couldn't stop the noises he made as a response, embarrassed at how loud he'd become at barely anything.

Fernando bit his lip, one hand leaving the boys side to wrap around his neck, pulling him down by it as if he was picking a kitten up by his scruff as he connected their lips again, Lance breathlessly whimpering into Fernandos lips as he began to move faster, deeper, body needing more.

"Fuck, Lancito" Fernando breathed, hand tightening around Lance's neck, pleasently surprised at just how receptive he was to it. "Sound so pretty, mi vida, who's making you feel this good, Lancito?"

He whined, eyes lidded as he struggled to continue, legs beginning to ache as he rocked back and forth "You, papi" Lance couldn't help himself as the name slipped out, Fernando absolutely adoring it.

The man loved knowing he was the only person to ever make Lance feel this way, the only one to ever have Lance on him like this

"Nando, please, please, need you in me" His grinding slowed down, practically stopping as he panted, the grip on his neck loosening, Fernando not wanting to stop the boy from catching his breath. It was endearing, how quick he got out of breath considering he was a literal athlete.

Fernando leaned to kiss the boys jaw, leaving wet kisses and bite marks on his skin as he pulled his race suit down more, wasting no time before pulling the waistband of his underwear down as well, just enough for the cold air of the room to hit his cock

"Lancito, need you to get up if you need me so bad" Fernando couldn't help but laugh at how quick Lance was to listen, being off the mans lap in seconds. "Take it off for me, baby, need your suit off"

The Canadian listened again, finding his way back onto him after he finished

"So good for me, Lancito, always so good for me, baby" He praised, fingers brushing over the tattoo on the boys torso, the two drivers' cocks pressed together as he waited for Lance to get situatied "Tell me when you're ready, mi sol, we need to be quick." He leaned back again, half lidded eyes watching as the pale boy moved on top of him

"I'm ready, please, need you."

"Put it in, Lancito." He instructed, hands moving down from his bare hips to Lance's thighs "Do you think you can do that for me, princesa?"

The boy nodded, quick to lift himself up and line the Spaniards cock up to his hole "Do I.." He began to ask, unsure if he was doing anything right on his own.

"Just sit, baby, you're doing great" Fernando reassured him, hands moving up and down his thighs as he felt his tip be pushed inside, the two of them breathing shakily at the now familiar feeling.

Lance shut his eyes tight as he felt himself sinking down, hands gripping onto Fernandos shoulders as he took him in fully, the Spaniard unable to tear his eyes away from the sight, seeing how Lance's eyebrows furrowed at the feeling and lips parted slightly as he panted drove Fernando crazy.

"Fuck, Lancito." He groaned, hand wandering to Lance's neck again as he leaned forward to finally kiss him, not noticing how he'd absentmindedly began moving the boy on his lap "Taking me so well. You're so billiant, mi vida"

The boy whimpered, not satisfied with the slow pace Fernando had set so he took matters into his own hands, bouncing himself on the Spaniards cock.

"God" Fernando groaned quietly, grabbing onto Lance harder as he let the boy set his own pace.

The taller boy leaned forward, bringing Fernandos hand back up to his neck, missing the pressure.

"What do you want, Lancito?" He asked, hovering his hand over the rookiee throat "Use your words, princesa."

"Choke me, please papi." He whined, his movements getting sloppier as his legs began to give out, struggling to keep a steady pace.

Fernando obliged, not going to deny Lance of something he asked so nicely for. He tightened his grip on his throat as he sat up slightly, leaving the two drivers chest to chest, their position familiar.

"Doing so good, Lancito, such a good boy for me" He cooed, praising Lance as he connected their lips again, adoring just how desperate he'd become after not having Fernando for a week.

The kisses were wet, neither of them in a position where they could be gentle, gentle was the last thing Lance wanted now that he knew how it felt to be choked and bit by the Spaniard.

Fernandos eyes lingered to his hand adorning the boys neck as he pulled away from the kiss, settling on the now red and purple marks he'd left on the boys jaw and neck, leaning forward to kiss them softly, even as they got rougher the last thing he wanted was for the boy to be hurt by him.

"Nando" He whined, laying his head in the crook of the mans neck

"Yes, mi sol?"

"I can't-" He started, practically just sitting with the mans cock in him "Need your help, Nando"

Fernando couldn't help but smile, kissing the boys cheek as he lifted him up, laying him on his back on the sofa.

"Look so pretty under me, Lancito" He purred, connecting their lips in order to contain his moans as Fernando began to move, pleased with the string of sounds that left Lances mouth as he did.

He set a steady pace, one hand tight on Lances neck as the other settled on the rookies waist, adoring the sight of the boy under him being reduced to whimpers and whines.

He parted their lips to get a better view, needing to see just how much Lance relished in the pleasure Fernando was bringing him.

Fernando loved knowing he was the first to make him feel this way, the first to hear his perfect moans as he thrusted in and out. The Spaniard adored knowing he was the best Lance would ever had.

The Canadian felt the eyes on him, whining as he brought his arms up to cover his face to hide the pink tint covering his cheeks.

"Nando" He moaned, unable to stop himself from being loud as Fernando fucked into him

"Shh, you need to be quiet, mi sol" Fernando whispered, hand gripping the boys throat harder to pull his head up "Can you be a good boy for me? You don't want to be caught, do you?" He raised his eyebrows slightly, knowing the boy was still learning what exactly he wanted.

The Canadians breath hitched at the idea, cock twitching on his stomach as he heard the man above him scoff

"Would you like that, hm?" He cooed, moving Lance's hands away from his face "You want someone walking in and seeing just how much of a mess you are under me? How pathetic you look begging for my cock?"

He tried to respond, his words getting caught in the back of his throat, the thought of being caught causing Lance to react more than either of them thought it would.

Fernando continued thrusting into the boy, feeling himself slowly getting closer as the Canadian mewled. His sounds were so sweet, music to the Spaniards ears. He leaned down to nip at the skin on his neck, not bothering to care about the full garage on the other side of the door as Lance panted his name.

His hand left the pink drivers waist, wrapping his fingers around the base of the boys cock, knowing they needed to hurry up.

He began stroking his member at the same pace as his thrusts, enjoying the feeling of his hips bucking into the Spaniards hand, head arching back as he felt his orgasm creeping closer

"Fuck, fuck Nando, I- I- God, I'm gonna..." He struggled to form a sentence, gripping onto the material he was laid back on

"Cum, Lancito, Cum para papi." He instructed, biting harder onto the skin surrounding his collarbone, his goal to leave marks on the boys skin, claiming him.

As soon as Fernando told him to cum for him he did, his load coating both of their chests, Lance prepared for Fernando to slow down until he didn't, hand continuing to stroke the boy at the same pace

"Nando" He moaned, body shaking at the overwhelming amount of pleasure, the two cumming together seconds later, filling the room with gasps and pants at they both caught their breaths

"Fuck, Lancito, Took me so well, Such a good boy for me, mi vida" Fernando spoke, praise spilling out of his lips as he slowly rode out his high, feeling how full Lance was.

Lance moved his arms around Fernandos shoulders, pulling their chests together as Lance blushed, something so romantic about just laying in eachother presence after doing something so..... so.

Fernando found a hand towel and wet it, figuring the two had laid still for long enough. He sat Lance up, whiping off the boys torso before cleaning his own

"Nando?"

"Si, mi sol?"

"I love you"

Fernando smiled, setting the towel aside now that the two of them had been cleaned off. He leaned forward, softly planting kisses across the boys face, adoring hearing the giggles that came out of him as a response

"Stop, stop, stop" He breathed, wide smile on his face as he tried to push the Spaniard away "You could at least say it back"

"Te quiero mucho, Lancito" He spoke, patting the boys hair to lay smoothly on his head as he spoke "Now, If we stay here any longer people are gonna start worrying"

"I guess you're right" The Canadian whined, getting into the jeans and team shirt he'd came in while Fernando put his race suit back on, the two walking out of the drivers room as if nothing had happened.

As if everyone in the garage hadn't heard them and were now acticaly trying to not look at the bruises on the Canadians neck or make eyecontact as the drivers left together

"I think you were a little loud, mi sol" Fernando teased, Lance hitting him on his shoulder before hiding his face in his hands

"God, Nando, that's so embarrassing!"

"You sure seemed to like the idea before" Fernando hummed, wrapping his arm around Lance as he headed to the Renault garage, needing to change before the two could go back to their hotel.

[oscconfessions]

You know what? I'm just gonna say it. About 90% of II neg/crit is a crock full of shit. The 10% who actually criticize the show in a contrastive and nuanced way? Amazing. To die for. We love them around these parts. But this rant isn't about them. It's about the 90%. They anger me. It seems like they don't actually want to critique the show and just want to hate on it and the creators. I'll start off with some of the crit against certain characters like Bot and Cabby. OFC, it's 100% fine to dislike any character you want (/gen), but man I feel like some people just didn't understand the point of these characters. For example, I've seen a critique against Bot and Paintbrush that they're NB stereotypes for being "overly sensitive" when they literally aren't??? Paintbrush just has a strong temper (trust me, just because someone has a strong temper, it doesn't mean they're easily offended) and as for Bot, I have no idea where that critique even came from. Isn't it a bit hypocritical to say a character is a stereotype and then proceed to boil down their personality to a few simple traits. With Cabby, how she's been seen is a whole mess, but that transitions into drama with the creators. There was the whole ableism issue with II3 EP 14. Which, in hindsight, what happened in the actual wasn't that bad. Was the writing clumsy when it came to the Cabby stuff? Yes. Did it warrant a massive drama. Absolutely not. Especially with EP 15. The ableism thing doesn't even matter when watching it. Because it was addressed that Cabby shouldn't feel bad for using her aid. Another thing is that people don't actually treat the team, especially The Key Three as, well, humans. I've seen them be called "corporate cishet guys", which isn't even true in the slightest. First of all, they're not a corporation. They are literally a smallish indie team. And the "cishet" comment isn't even true in the slightest?? While I can't say if Adam and Brain are cishet or not, Justin is very openly gay man (I've heard that they're questioning his gender, but take that with a grain of salt). While it is good to critique and point out how they've failed with representation like with disabled people, people forget that a the worst of it happened when they were teens. In the 2000s. Representation isn't the way it is now. The crew and what they made are products of their time. And a quick note about EP 18 coming out during the Palestine Strike: what would delaying the episode even do? An episode coming out during a strike doesn't mean you suddenly can't talk about it. You can still talk about it even if the EP came out during the strike. And what about literally every single YT vid that came out during the Strike and didn't talk about it? Should those have been delayed as well? OFC not. Because a YouTube video doesn't effect the Strike. OFC, people should talk about it. But an II EP coming out while it happened affected nothing. Now, don't get me wrong, II isn't perfect and has plenty about it to critique. Because it was made by people. It's *going* to have stuff to critique. That doesn't mean stop giving it constructive criticism. But more people need to actually treat it like people made it. I'm SO sorry this turned out to be such a LONG and messy rant. I got angry (and I'm still a bit upset) and it sort of spiraled.

.

[artaxlivs]

20 questions for writers

I was tagged by @corrodedbisexual who is a kickass Steddie writer and you should check them out if you haven't already!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

45 although I have several dropping in June for Bangs (eek!)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

419,731 - which is just bonkers.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things, Marvel (Clint Barton centric) and Teen Wolf (I tripped and fell into that one but its just so good...fucking werewolves)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Destroy the Silence (Drummer Steve) - Steddie

An Accidental Flogging - Steddie

The Second Worst Trip to Mordor Ever Taken - Steddie

Even Flowers Have Their Dangers - Steddie

Screw Todd, Steve's Her (His) Daddy Now - Steddie

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always. Once every three weeks or so, I go through and leave full, complete responses to every single one (It's where I've met some of my favorite peeps!)

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

Angsty at the end?? Nah, I like my angst safely in the middle and I give it a nice landing in smut and laughter, thank you.

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

I mean, all of them? Endings are kind of my specialty - gotta stick the landing, you know? But in my Teen Wolf fic Somewhere Under the Rainbow it ends with a literal happy ending (not that kind you perv)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet but I don't write anything that would inspire hate (Hopefully?)

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

Yes, yes I do. I really like consent and kink discussions and unlearning all the unhealthy shit society and our parents have dumped on all of us. And service Doms...because ❤️‍🔥

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have a problem with 80s movies and crossing them into fics. Gremlins, Dirty Dancing, etc. But like, just a little. My name is ARTAXLIVS, give me a break!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I mean AI is out there fucking us all without our consent, right?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have one currently being translated (Destroy the Silence)

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

I have not.

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

Winterhawk probably - Clint Barton is just perfectly imperfect and Bucky Barnes is a growling bastard with a thing for idiots.

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

Fuck my life - don't come for me but There's Something Wrong with Steve has been sitting at 2/4 chapters for like 9 months and I actually have the last two chapters written but there's just something not clicking so I haven't posted them. I will. I WILL.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Endings - as stated, characterization, story flow, cadence, dialogue, smut scenes, minimalist world building but not a lack of - I get a lot of comments from people who also have aphantasia (we can't picture things in our heads) and I think it's because I don't describe every stupid ass tree (Tolkien, I'm talking to you)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Crippling self doubt

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

Enh, you do you boo. When I write sign language or D/deaf culture for Clint, I touched base with someone fluent in ASL but I have access to that so...

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Marvel - Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton (Winterhawk, my loves)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Pic a favorite? Blergh. I really love when people comment on Even Flowers Have Their Dangers because it's the biggest world building thing I've ever done (there's a DND-like battle scene!) But also, What if Clint Fell has a special place in my heart because I love bashful first time gay Steve and slutty Clint figuring it out during WW2.

***

Pretty sure i just did one of these 20 questions things a few months ago so I'm gonna no pressure tag the people I'm currently collabing on bangs with so I can learn more about them: @angeleyz4ever @rufferto9 and I don't think @eviscer-8 writes fanfic but they're a bookbinder so maybe they could tweak the questions which would be interesting!

[mangopit]

20 Writer Questions

ty @littlefirefox for the tag!! nice seeing the other folks you tagged too, fandom runs deep fr haha <3

1. Total number of AO3 works?

34! i haven't uploaded in so long ouurgh

2. Total AO3 word count?

103,336 :o

3. Fandoms I’ve written in?

oh boy, tons. and im too shy to talk abt a lot of them on my main blog lol, but throughout my life i've written for a lot of youtubers, bbc sherlock, rotbtd, atla, tlok, american idol, some disney shows, an anime, live streamers, musicians...

4. Top 5 Fics by Kudos

dhjdjhs again im too shy to list em directly, they're all rpf >:'D # of kudos: 519, 377, 341, 314, 305

5. Do I️ respond to Comments?

yes, i try to reply to all of them! tho i need to look at my inbox and check that i haven't missed any recent ones :')

6. What has the angstiest ending?

hmmMm on ao3 i have a drabble that ends in perceived unrequited love but i think my actual angstiest published story ends with 2 former best friends finally choosing to part ways. offline, i have stories that end in major character death 😬

7. What has the happiest ending?

oh! a delightful question! i think the one where the soulmates figure their shit out and finally confess their feelings for each other feels like the most triumphant ending that i can remember writing :)

8. Have I️ received hate?

not for my writing. i've received unwarranted constructive criticism before tho.

9. Do I️ write smut? And what kind?

yes sometimes but i've never posted it online 👁👁 and idk "what kind" means... gay i guess???? loll

10. Do I️ write crossovers?

yes! i don't think i've posted anything online but rise of the brave tangled dragons is one of my longest loves.

11. Have I️ ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of 😳

12. Have I️ ever had a fic translated?

no but i would be honored if anyone offered! :')

13. Have I️ ever co-written a fic?

i've initiated "finish the fic"s before, but i've never co-written a fic in the traditional sense.

14. What is my all-time favorite ship?

OH hmmm idk if i have one. maybe sh****** just bc of how long and intense my obsession was for it lol

15. A WIP I️’ll never finish?

i have a bbc sherlock fic that was well-received but i just can't imagine finishing it bc my writing has changed so much, i never had a direction for the story, and i don't really like how i wrote the characters.

16. Writing Strengths?

i'm good at eavesdropping on imaginary conversations between people who exist solely in my head so i think im good at whipping out dialogue, lol. i also pride myself on writing realistic, complex emotions and digging into the deeper, more hidden thoughts of characters.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

i think i get so excited about writing my favorite bits i have planned that i rush the pacing of my stories or i force plotpoints that don't make too much sense and can probably be cut. i've been trying to combat that by indulging in the first draft—letting myself write all the exciting, wild ideas i have first before revising and fine-tuning the story to my standards!

18. Do I️ like foreign language dialogue?

yes? no opinion? i don't think i understand this question.

19. First Fandom I️ wrote for?

i think it was american idol >:)

20. Favorite fic Ive written?

wahhh like lynn i find it super hard to choose bc my writing is such a reflection of my interests and general mindset at the time! plus i still love my most busted writing bc i have such a warm appreciation for who i was and how i've improved. buuuuut for whatever reason i'm very proud of this one friends to lovers fic on my ao3 that's set during the wintertime~ i think i was able to get the pacing just right, emotionally and plotwise, and everything just makes sense, and the ending is so satisfying. it's a very solid fic for when i wrote it, and i am very happy to write a simply solid fic :)

thanks again lynn for the tag!! tagging: @farklelucas @26velociraptors if you want + any other ficwriters who would like to do this! (lol gretchen i can't even remember if you post on ao3 ermm)

[philliamwrites]

SWYAATL 14: The Happy Years

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x fem! Reader

Warnings: they're all horknee

Summary: “May Queen!” the girl shrieks, and throws a bright flower crown with frightening precision on your head. She then points at you. “We’ve found our May Queen!” Oh. Oh no. “Oh no no no no no,” you say out loud the moment someone swoops you up your feet. Nausea rolls through you—you hate hate being picked up, hate how it makes you feel like the small kid from five years ago during Shiganshina’s attack—before you start hyperventilating, you glimpse Jean in the crowd, doubled over and supporting himself against Marco, laughing at you so hard he almost topples over. Bastard.

Notes: [01] || 13 | 15

Words: 9.5k

A/N: Sorry updates are so scarce! Everything is changing for me with the apprenticeship but it’s a good change and I’m very, very happy where I am right now!! Might go into hiatus for a while because writing just isn’t doing it for me at the moment though. I’ll definitely bring Cadet Corps Arc to an end though, it’s only one or two more chapters after this one!

Don’t flock me, but this might slip a little into Reader/Jean (with Eren/Reader endgame, I promise). Also I’ve decided from this chapter on they’re all finally 18, you’re welcome. They’re all gay, they’re all horny, whoopa.

14: The Happy Years

January, February, March. The winter is a torrent of snow. Falling slow and fat. Falling quick and bright. The sun, if it rises at all, is a weak white flame until spring marches into the battle with all her blossoms and light, banishing the cold for another year.

This time, you were put into farm duty, something you’ve been looking forward to ever since the ground, formerly brownish or covered with snow, is now painted in greener tones. It beats having to prune trees or vines since you’ve always enjoyed working with soil and what the earth grants. There is also the benefit of seeing Dolly again, the only compound ox used to draft the ridge and furrows where you’ll plant this year’s harvest. Apparently, cadets long before your corps named him, realising too late that he was a male—as though the pointy horns are easy to miss—but the name has stuck ever since.

You’re leading the old boy over the field now, towards the other handful of cadets assigned to the duty. Reiner and Marco are tinkering with the bullock cart, checking if, after the long winter, anything has broken and needs to be fixed. Annie, standing a little apart from them, gazes out at the field. She looks as though she could think of a hundred different places she’d rather be. You can get a little behind her indifference. Many consider this task as a waste of time, for every compound receives the majority of vegetables, fruits, fish and dairy from outside farms and fisheries. The annual harvest you yield around autumn is only meant for reserves and emergencies should the usual deliveries not make it on time—which hasn’t happened in the almost three years you’ve been in the military.

You don’t mind the work at all—it is a nice diversity from the tasks you usually get, and you enjoy working outside in nature, where the air is fresh and the last hint of winter still lingers in the air.

“We’re ready,” Marco says now, rising from where he was perching in front of the cart. Already, his pants are dirty where he has knelt in the soil. “All good to go.”

“You two lead the old boy, Annie and I will be right behind you.” Reiner shakes his small basket with cauliflower seeds as you put the cart before Dolly and give his nose a good rub. He flicks his ears and trots after you across the field, occasionally bumping his snoot against your arm as if saying Look, I’m doing it! What about a little treat?,and of course you scratch him under his chin until his eyes fall close for a second in sheer contentment.

“He’s very enamoured with you,” Marco says, watching you two from the side. Even though it’s still cool outside, he’s rolled up his sleeves, showing his strong arms streaked with hard cords of muscle. Recently, his harness seems to be a size too small, cutting into his body parts that were extra thick with muscle such as his arms, thighs and upper chest. Not that you’re complaining about the sight. “Are you hiding treats or something in your uniform?”

“It’s my natural charm,” you say, grinning. “I don’t have to use cheap tricks like that.”

Marco laughs at that, and you notice how he doesn’t disagree. You continue down the field in companionable silence, only making comments whenever one of you spots a falcon gliding over the fields in search of mice. It feels like the build-up to something, but what exactly, you don’t know until finally, Marco says, “Only two more months left now. Those three years passed so quickly, I can hardly believe we’re almost done with our training.”

“Why are you in such low spirits then?” you ask. “What happened to all that enthusiasm of being able to serve the king once you join the MP?”

Marco’s silence makes you look over at him. There’s something wistful about the way he looks out at the fields—his mind seems to be as far away as the rising and sinking curves of the mountains in the far south.

“It’s weird, I know,” he finally says, scratching his chin where you see a dark stubble. “I also thought this was something I’m sure of. Graduate with a good score, join the MP and work my way up into the King’s Guard. But lately…” He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I had this weird dream, you know? There was a parade and the King was there as well but something wasn’t right. There were orphans crying and people seemed distressed. In my dream, I heard rumours about the true nature of the Operation to Reclaim Wall Maria a few years ago, and when I woke up, I realised this must have been because I talked to Armin and Eren recently. Armin told me that there was a parade back then as well, after his grandfather died, to distract from the disputes on food; to have the people be lenient towards the King’s sentence. And weirdly enough, I started to wonder … do I really want to protect the King, or is there maybe something else I should be protecting.”

Marco looks at you now, and there’s something bare in his eyes that makes you turn your head away. All you manage to answer is, “Jean will be very sad if you change your mind last second, you know? You’ve become one of his closest friends and …”

“And what?” Marco inquirers—part hopeful, part reserved.

And I know there’s more, but you’re afraid of it. One afternoon on a rare hour’s break in the barracks, you went over to the boys’ to get Marco for laundry duty, who had slipped inside just a moment ago. Standing in the entryway, you found him and Jean alone. Jean was sitting with his back turned to the entry and Marco used that moment to leap upon him in a fit of enthusiasm, screeching and squawking like a child at play. Jean wrestled Marco off him and they rolled around on the floor, grabbing and jostling, laughing at nothing. When Marco had Jean in a clinch, pinned to the floor, his knees on either side of Jean’s torso, he looked down at him and smiled, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

Even from that distance, you were sure that he had looked at Jean’s lips for a moment, turning his head a little and staring at him, his body arching forward just a touch. Jean raised his knee slightly and risked a smile. They looked at each other—“Ah, Jean,” Marco said mournfully, his voice soft—and then their heads both swivelled around at the sound of creaking wood beneath your feet as you shifted your weight to make a silent retreat, positive that you had walked into a private scene not meant for anyone to see.

Marco jumped up, turning away from Jean. He looked at you, startled, unable to catch Jean’s eye. After a moment of silence, Jean, to lighten the mood, had simply asked if you had lost something, and when the moment was over, everything had returned as if nothing had happened between them.

“And nothing,” you say now. Whatever is between Jean and Marco, it is none of your business. You don’t think Jean would appreciate you poking your nose into his business—especially one that seemed a foreign territory to even himself. Ever since the incident with the wolf last winter, he’s become curt—sometimes even downright nasty whenever Eren is around or you so much as mention him. The only reason you can think of is that with graduation drawing closer, they’re both reminded how opposing their future wishes are, and suddenly nothing of what has happened before—standing together against Victor; fighting the robbers and saving Christa—seems to matter.

“Yeah, I still need to talk to him about that,” Marco says, cutting off your thoughts. “If he’ll join the Scouts.”

“The Scouts?” You almost trip over a mound of dirt, saving yourself only by flinging your arms around Dolly’s strong neck. He snorts appreciatively. “Why the Scouts?”

“You know … the way Jean is, I feel that if he joined the Survey Corps … he could save a lot of lives.”

You give that some thought, and initially, nothing about it seems wrong. Jean is an exceptional soldier, both capable in ODM and analysing the situation in battle to find the best outcome. Funny enough, Jean’s talent seems specifically the reason why Eren keeps blowing the fuse whenever they talk about their future goals—Eren can’t seem to understand why anyone would waste their talent like that. You’ve stopped bringing that up with him. It seems easier to get along with him if you two don’t try to bust each other’s heads about which Corps to join after graduation.

With the field ploughed, the seed sown, you take a little break. The sun stands high on the zenith, and the work has left you sweating. Dolly, freed from the cart, lies on the ground. His tail flicks at flies in lazy swipes, and whenever someone bends down to pet him, he closes his eyes in cosy satisfaction.

“Did I hear that right, you’re thinking about joining the Scouts, Marco?” says Reiner now. He’s perched beside Dolly, and gives his back soft claps. You have a hard time not staring at his thick thighs. “How come?”

Marco, leaning sideways against the fence enclosing the fields, shrugs with one shoulder. “Feels like I might be able to do more if I join them.”

“The Scouts will be happy with a guy like you,” Reiner continues. “You’re a great soldier, Marco.”

Marco ducks his head as if he can hide the red tinting his cheeks. “What about you guys?” he quickly asks. “You’re both at the top as well.” Reiner throws Annie a quick glance which she promptly ignores.

“It’s gonna be the MP for me.” Reiner isn’t shy about his decision, giving Marco a crooked grin. “I’m pretty sure that’s where I can do my best as a soldier.”

A snort comes from Annie’s direction, so quiet that you think you’ve imagined it were it not for Reiner turning his head in her direction. She’s looking down at Dolly’s head resting on top of Reiner’s thigh, and something in her eyes is short enough to send a shudder up your spine.

“Best as a soldier?” she scoffs. “You think anyone joining the MP has such a pretentious, noble goal in mind?”

Even though Annie and Reiner didn’t seem to get along well, or have any common history you’re aware of, sometimes she is capable of saying things that make him go silent for a moment—like right now. Maybe that was just Annie’s expertise—saying things people didn’t want to face.

“What about you?” Reiner turns to you, choosing to run from Annie’s glacier-cutting gaze. “Changed your mind yet? Your performance has dropped, but you can still make a comeback in the final exams next month.”

You look up from where you’re crouching on the ground, digging your hands through the soil. The smell calms you, and nothing is quite a testimony to a hard day at work than the dirt and grime under your nails. “Nope, still don’t care about the MP,” you chirp.

“Really? Has Eren finally convinced you to join the Scouts, then?”

“Eren?” You throw a quick glance at him. “No, why would he have anything to do with that?”

“After everything you’ve been through, I thought you two are like this,” Reiner says, crossing index and middle finger. You throw a handful of dirt at him and pretend it doesn’t please you that the others think you and Eren are that close.

It shouldn’t be a surprise.

Not after you’ve survived the wolves; not while you two gradually gravitate towards each other like moths to a flame. Certainly not when every time you practice together in hand-to-hand-combat, it is like rough, desperate fucking where no one wants to relinquish the upper hand—and dominance—to the other. There is no finesse to your fighting, unlike Annie or Mikasa, you two just rely on brutal force and a desperation to win that is downright frightening at times.

Last time, you had almost won. Almost, if you hadn’t been so blind with joy and stroking your own ego having handed Eren his ass. Then, everything happened so quickly. He hooked his feet behind your ankles and tugged, swiping your legs from under you. Not even a second on your ass, his feet locked behind the back of your knees, he turned to the right, forcing you to turn with him, and suddenly you were the one on all fours, bending over. You had tried to scramble back up, but Eren snatched one arm from under you and his other hand found the back of your neck, pushing your face into the dirt, the other pinning your arm behind your back. His hips pressed hard against your ass. Stunned, you had remained still, and you could have sworn Eren had muttered something along the lines of “Right where I want you,” but you couldn’t be sure because a moment later, Jean was already there, kicking Eren off you. You didn’t pay any attention to their squabble—you didn’t pay attention to anything happening that day because your mind kept conjuring very unnecessary images of Eren using his strength to manhandle you in a bunch of different other positions.

“I made my decision a long time ago,” you say now before your mind can venture to those fantasies again, “and I’m not going to change it. Just like Eren won’t change his mind if I tried talking him out of joining the Scouts. Besides—” You clamp your mouth shut. Three pairs of eyes stare at you, waiting for you to continue, but you can’t just tell them about the deal you’ve made with Ymir.

She approached you two months ago, on a grey, rainy day—though maybe ‘approach’ was too tame a word for how she had slithered after you like a snake sneaking after prey for days on end. It was a simple, small mission; heading out to a long-abandoned manor close to Wall Rose and checking the damage after a vicious storm had swept through it. The rain had subsided enough to venture out, and during a short break under the coverage of a tree’s canopy, you had veered off the group to refill your water bottle with fresh rain water.

The landscape was not gentle and rolling, but harsh and foreboding. Green hills dotted with grey gorse swept up into crags of dark rock. Long lines of mortarless stone walls, meant for keeping in sheep, crisscrossed the green; here and there was dotted the occasional lonely cottage. The sky seemed an endless expanse of white, brushed with the strokes of long, dark grey clouds.

You had noticed Ymir shadowing you all week prior to that conversation. Standing in dark corners, watching you with her unnerving, small eyes like little pinpricks of a dagger’s sharp tip aiming for your throat. You’d known it was only a question of when she’d corner you, and when on that day, she had risen behind you, you were already expecting her, meeting her eyes only slightly obscured by the hood drawn over her face from her cape.

“What do you want?”

Ymir had stared at you, unblinkingly. And then she’d thrown her head back, barking out a laugh that cracked like thunder. “Right to the point, then. I like how you turned out after that whole fiasco with the dogs in the woods.”

“You mean when I almost died? Yeah. Great times.”

“Oh, come on.” Ymir rolled her eyes and joined you kneeling at the ground, wiping forth her own water flask. “You survived. You grew a pair of balls most of the guys here don’t have. It wasn’t all bad.”

You gave a gruff sound of acknowledging her words—the compliment. Ymir never handed out compliments unless one was small, blonde and named Christa, and the fact in itself only proved your theory that she was after something.

Staring at you some more, Ymir’s grin didn’t cool, but it sharpened. A muscle in her jaw clenched, as though she was chewing on her words before she spoke. Finally, she said, “I need you to do something.”

“You need me,” you repeated, just to check that you didn’t mishear, “to do something for you?”

Ymir nodded, a single curt movement as one would chop up wood. Or someone’s head. You felt as if ice water had been dumped down the back of your neck, shoving you to full alertness. “And what exactly would that be?” you asked.

Ymir stood still as a statue, unblinking. You felt as though something very serious was happening right now, and allowed her to take time to find the words. Then, she finally looked up, and said, “You don’t care about the ranking. Let Christa have your spot.”

“Hmm.” You watched the rain droplets collect at the mouth of your flask where they didn’t disappear in the narrow black hole. The wind picked up, whipping your coats left and right. So many thoughts whirled inside your head until they finally settled. “You want Christa in the MP, even though you won’t be able to follow her? Why?”

“None of your business,” Ymir snapped, not even trying to bite back a sharp retort. “Just say Yes or No. I’ll figure out something else.”

“Is it because you love her?” you continued, ignoring her. “Or are you arranging everything so that she’ll help you from inside the Inner Wall later?”

Ymir didn’t respond for a while. When you didn’t think she’d answer at all, she gritted out, “I want a safe life for Christa. Don’t pretend you’ve never had anyone like that.”

You pressed your lips together. The water in your bag had started spilling. You watched the water flow over and soak into the already wet earth.

“Okay,” you said.

There was only a brief pause. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s like you said, I don’t care about the ranking.”

Very quietly, you heard Ymir exhale a long breath. She rose to her feet, looking like she wanted to seal the deal somehow. With a handshake or a clap to your shoulder. Maybe even pat your cheek like she had done when she’d talked to you for the first time all those years back. Ultimately, she preferred her hand intact and wouldn’t gamble with you biting it off, and stood to go back to the other cadets.

“Ymir,” you said before she left. Ymir stopped. Slowly, she turned. “What’s in for me?”

She positively flashed her teeth at you like a cornered wolf as though you have not already learned how to dance with wolves. You were not afraid of them anymore. Screwing the water flask shut, you closed the distance between you two. “You didn’t think I’d just do you a favour with nothing in return, right?”

“I was hoping you’d be that naive, yes.”

You gave her a smile. It was not a pleasant smile. “No, you’d hoped I’d let you use me. But I’m not letting my chance at having you owe me pass.”

Ymir clicked her tongue. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and looked mildly annoyed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know yet,” you answered truthfully. Ymir’s mild look of annoyance grew into a very physical, very palpable thing she looked like she might use and whack you with.

“You had me thinking you’re badass and smart for a second. Who’s to say you hold up your end of the deal but I’ll disappear forever?”

“I’m not worried about that,” you said, climbing after her back up the hill. “I will find you and make you hold up your end of the bargain, Ymir.”

Ymir didn’t stop to look at you. “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s a promise.”

***

Two years away from Trost, you have almost forgotten how badly crowded the narrow streets are. Carriages roll side by side with costermongers’ carts piled high with fruit and vegetables; women shawled and carrying shallow baskets full of flowers dive madly in and out of traffic as they try to interest the occupants of various carriages in their wares; and cabs come to a full stop in the midst of traffic so that the cab drivers can scream at one another from their seats. The noise adds to the din—ice cream paddlers shouting “Hokey-pokey, coin a lump,” newspaper boys hawking the day’s latest headline, and someone somewhere playing a barrel organ.

It is a vast contrast to today’s morning exercise where you’ve practised evacuating the civilians during a Titan breach, the streets empty save for the giant wooden Titan dummies and a few citizens acting out an emergency. The instructors dubbed it a simple exercise, but everyone knew it was part of the ongoing final examination that had started a week ago and is slowly creeping towards its end.

You’re surprised how easy it is to perform badly. Ymir’s deal gives you a nice way out of carrying the responsibility to make a choice after graduation. Already, other cadets have been mumbling “what a waste it is” that you would “only” join the Garrison when so many would use your rank and buzz off inthat hside the Inner Walls. Now that you’re leaving the spot to Christa, it’s like a weight has slipped from your shoulders.

Shadis notices, of course. The first two weeks had been the beginning of your military training all over again—screaming at you until his spit ran down your face in rivers, penalty drills for slacking off, threats to send you back home where you could pick up and sell shit from the gutters for all that he cared.

You’re still here a week later, though now you wish you weren’t because slowly, you’re running out of patience to deal with Jean’s bitching.

“And why would she just barge in like she owns the place?” he repeats for what must be the third time today. “I told her I’d drop by eventually.”

“Like you dropped by the last time we were stationed near the farms and didn’t visit her?” You haul another basket stacked to the brim with flower garlands onto the cart, pushing it to the very back against the other caskets you’ve already stored. As a little girl, you never noticed how many flowers were involved in the May Day. You were way too busy stuffing your mouth with sweets and pastries, and playing at the game stalls while the adults staggered past you with heavy beer and ale filled jugs, hollering and screeching songs.

The excitement for the holiday is like a charged up buzz jumping from person to person. A day and night full of revelries and pleasantries, games and drinks and good food. A break for cadets before their graduation—and a little pick me up for the Scouts as they’re heading out for another expedition outside the Walls the week after.

You’re mostly looking forward to the food and enjoying a great time with your friends before everyone goes their own way. Who knows when you’ll see each other next time. If you see each other next time.

You shake your head, banishing these thoughts to where they don’t wear down your excitement.

“What do you mean, No?” Jean asks incredulously, which is a problem because he stops and you walk right into him, and the second basket you’re carrying bounces off his back and right into your stomach as you walk into him.

“Ooof.” You glare up at him. “Do you mind? I want to finish this work before lunch break.”

He stares at you, and realises too late, “You didn’t listen to anything I just said, did you?”

You don’t bother trying to look contrite. Jean looks like he might throw his hands up, but the basked in his hands makes that impossible unless he’d prefer a broken foot. Instead, he settles for pulling a face at you.

“I can’t believe I’m pouring my heart out to you like that and you don’t care.” He drops the casket unceremoniously into the cart so that half its contents spill, and turns around to you, thick arms crossed over his broad chest. His white shirt sticks to his skin from the hard work, outlining the strong chords of muscles running along his arms, his abdomen. He always used to be taller than you, but now after years of hard, rigorous training, he’s also broader, and he has no problem letting you know that during hand-to-hand-combat practice or whenever he wants to make a point and hands your ass to you.

“It’s hard to be on your side when all you do is bitch about having a mother who’s looking after you,” you snap. The effect is immediate. Jean takes a step back as if he has been punched and doesn’t know where the blow has come from. When he stares at you, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. Something inside his face shuts close.

“You don’t understand—” he begins, but immediately seals his mouth shut.

You cock your head to the side, challenging him. “Why? Because I don’t have a mom? No parents who can fuzz around and worry about me?”

Jean goes very quiet. “That’s not what I meant.”

You stare each other down like two strangers trying to determine if the person standing before you is a threat. It is as though even after these three years and everything you have been through, Jean feels more distant lately.

Before you can open your mouth, a female voice shouts from across the plaza, “You two, stop slacking off and move your asses! We’ve still got too much work to do!”

“Let’s go back,” you say, subdued.

Jean sighs and makes an after-fucking-you gesture. You move to the next row of baskets in silence. Working with your body is easier than working with your brain on how to undo the damage. But one look at Jean tells you his face is still a closed door. You have no patience for delicate lock-picking, and instead decide to kick the door in.

“I’m sorry,” you say at the same time he blurts, “I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”

You look at each other. Smile. Order has been restored.

“Ida just means well. After graduation, she won’t be seeing you anytime soon,” you say. The next basket is full of white daisies, tulips and roses. You stare at the soft-petalled mount, feeling the strange urge to shove your face right into them and inhale. Maybe you’ll get high on the sweet smelling pollen.

“I know, I know.” Jean waves his hand. “I’ll visit her. After that stupid cook off next week.”

“Why did you want to participate in the first place?”

“You think I’d let Sasha and her big mouth go around and tell everyone she’s a better cook than me?”

“Oh, woe is men and their fragile pride.”

Jean shoves you with his elbow, only hard enough to make you lose your balance.

You finish your work, the next assignment already waiting for you on the other side of the District. Your supervising officer orders you to join with the others who are already busy setting up the sets of tables and benches, and the minstrels’ stage.

You walk the same streets as three years ago on the day you signed up for the military. The District hasn’t changed at all, but you two have. You don’t miss how Jean tilts his face upwards, examining the roofs and crenellations of the buildings. Looking for anchor points for his gear. You’ve also categorised the best advance points by height. The whole world looks different since the ODM gear has become a part of you.

As you cross the plaza, Jean throws an apple at you, a leftover from Ida’s surprise visit last week. You catch it with ease, your reflexes sharpened to an arrow’s tip precision over the years. Turning it over in your hand, you barely dodge a cart transporting a row of stacked benches onto the plaza. Good service those reflexes do you. But Jean has pulled you into his side for good measure as well, staring daggers after the cart.

“Bloody Hell, it’s like suddenly they don’t know how to manoeuvre those things,” he says.

You glance at his hand still closed tightly around your upper arm.

“They’re just excited,” you say. “And a little nervous. They still haven’t found a May Queen.”

“I wonder why they don’t just pick a random chick, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“The people of Trost think differently about it.”

Jean mumbles something to himself and lets you go. “That’s why you don’t change tradition. If they’d just pick a pretty lass, we wouldn’t be under this pressure.”

“Anyone specific in mind?”

Jean looks down at you, snuffling. “Mikasa for example.”

“Wow. Okay.”

“What? Do you want to be May Queen?”

You raise your chin. “I mean, I don’t, but why do you sound like I wouldn’t be able to pull it off?”

“I mean…” Jean kneads the back of his neck. “I don’t remember the last time you wore a dress.”

“It’s not like I forgot how to move in petticoats and girdles,” you say. “I just prefer not to.”

“Come on, how hard can it be?”

“Hmph,” you say. “I’d like to see how you’d manage sitting and standing up straight in stays and petticoats for a whole night.”

“So would I,” says Marco, appearing out of nowhere with a table thrown over his shoulder as though it weighs nothing. Jean and you share a moment of silent appreciation for Marco’s arm muscles.

Jean shakes his head. Either about your comment or to clear his head from whatever images Marco’s sight conjures in his mind. “Whatever. I only really care about the food, and after that, it’s straight up inside the Inner Wall and away from this sewer of a District.”

You question that ‘straight,’ but you question even more if Marco has managed to talk with Jean about a change of heart. When you give him a sideways glance, Marco catches your eye and subtly shakes his head. Not yet, it seems.

“You know, if there’s ever a chance I’ll meet your Military Police regiment, I’ll do my best to embarrass you and tell them all those funny stories about little Jeanie how he got trapped naked in a rose bush,” you say, and drop the apple Jean has given you in a beggar-woman’s lap as you enter the wide, open marketplace.

“You wouldn’t—” Jean begins, but is interrupted by cheers erupting like a thunder storm around you. People scream, their hands thrown high in the air. You’re the definition of confusion. Marco almost drops the table and crushes a little girl darting between the adults crowding you three like ants climbing over themselves to reach food.

“May Queen!” the girl shrieks, and throws a bright flower crown with frightening precision on your head. She then points at you. “We’ve found our May Queen!”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Oh no no no no no,” you say out loud the moment someone swoops you up your feet. Nausea rolls through you—you hate hate being picked up, hate how it makes you feel like the small kid from five years ago during Shiganshina’s attack—before you start hyperventilating, you glimpse Jean in the crowd, doubled over and supporting himself against Marco, laughing at you so hard he almost topples over.

Bastard.

“No sense of modesty, not one of them,” you spit, holding your breath as Mina, Hannah and Christa try to get you into that prison of a dress made specifically for this year’s May Day celebrations. The seamstress who worked on the dress, Hilda, smiles patiently.

“Well, the people … and I mean the women, have been complaining for years that only choosing the most beautiful girl seems a little unfair. I liked that no one new this year’s criteria. I’ve heard a woman in Stohess adopted a litter of kittens, and another performed a handstand for hours and hours in Jinae. Acts of kindness make for a far better queen than her appearance, don’t you think so too, girls?”

They grunt their replies, too focused on tying the bodice on your back.

“Since we’re at it,” you wheeze, feeling as though your lungs are being crushed and all your organs squeezed into a pipeline, “how about we change the dress code as well?”

“Now, let’s not get too hasty,” Hilda says, smiling. “Or I will be out of a job.”

“But I will be out of a life.”

“Beauty is harsh,” Hilda provides unhelpfully, “but you will be the most powerful woman tonight.” And with that, she jitters away like a little excited bird to grab more silk ribbons. It’s probably the first and last time you will ever wear something so expensive.

“Last chance,” you say, turning to your friends after Mina finishes tying the last knot at the back of your corset. “Any volunteers? Christa? You would make such a better May Queen than me.”

Christa beams. “Nonsense! You look so stunning, [Name]! And I think this is exactly what you need after dropping out of the ranking.”

Gods bless her heart. You don’t know what to say should she find out you do this for her sake.

“All eyes will be on you tonight.” Mina takes your hand and twirls you around as if you are a princess and she is asking for a dance. The frilly, heavy dress brushes against your thighs and leaves a sliver of skin visible, showing exactly where—and how tight—the white tights you’re wearing end. “I can’t wait for all the festivities and drinks and music!”

“I heard the Scouts will be there as well,” Hannah chimes in. She lets her hand roam over the different fabrics Hilda has laid out before deciding which colour would suit your eyes best. “They’re off to another expedition next week, right?”

“Just a small one. I can’t imagine most of the execs joining tonight though. There’s still the final test at the end of this week, and then the official choosing of our branches.”

“It’s so weird,” Mina whispers, her grey eyes big. “We’ll graduate tomorrow.”

She’s met with silence. Between most of the cadets there is the unanimous agreement that nobody talks about the graduation; about the friends you’ll part from. You look over at Mina, oh and there it is again, the expression on her face you have recently come to see—and loathe—more often: as though her saint has forsaken her and now she is facing a brewing storm all alone.

Mina catches your eyes and gives you a sad, little smile. You have already been instructed that if you join the Garrison, you will be stationed at your home districts. You will stay here in Trost, but Mina will return to Karanes District. Even the promise that you will visit each other is only bitter-sweet knowing the first two or three years will be strictly to settle in your new unit.

“Oh, stop making those faces,” Christa says. “Tonight is a night of fun! I won’t allow you to go out frowning like that.” She grins and takes your hand, and in that brief second something flashes in her eyes that is so unlike Christa that you hesitate when she starts pulling you towards the shop’s front door. It makes her stop dead in her tracks—and there it is again, the timid look etched onto her face like a painting you’re more familiar with after all those years.

Mina must have realised Christa’s plan. She takes your other hand and kicks open the door. “Come on, we’re done taking measures. Let’s go and see the plaza.”

“I don’t think Hilda is done with the dress—” you begin, but your protest falls on deaf ears. Mina’s eyes sparkle with mischief. You have always been unable to tell her No when the Saint of Adventures holds her captive.

She pulls you outside the small tailor shop and into a narrow street where vibrant garlands of flowers hang from the roofs like exotic snakes. Already, the streets are filled with mouth-watering smells of food, the sound of laughter and joy.

Mina plucks a colourful flower wreath from a vendor’s stand. The man’s face behind the counter, just a moment ago a brewing storm, immediately clears of any wrinkles and lights up when he sees you. He bows like a knight courting a princess, greeting you with a loud, jolly “Maienkoenigin!” and with that, you are in the centre of attention.

You’re pretty sure the revelries would have started with a small speech from Trost’s mayor during Commander Pixis’ presence, but now that the people see you are out on the streets, they’ve taken it into their own hands to toast to you.

From all corners you see flower petals thrown in your direction. “Maria Maienkoenigin, wir kommen dich zu gruessen. Oh holde Freudenspenderin, sieh uns zu deinen Fuessen!” they sing the holiday’s song in honour of the May Queen and Wall Maria where the May Festival five years ago should have taken place.

Boys and girls dance around your knees, grabbing for your skirts to get your attention and accept their little flower bouquets as the crowd moves to the plaza with you in the middle. Tall poles stand at the entrances, decorated with more flowers and paper garlands snaking around them to the very top. The May pole, this year a birch tree, has already been erected in the centre where a wide square has been outlined to mark the dance floor and where later boys and girls weave the colourful ribbons around the pole.

Surrounding it are multiple, long rows of tables and on the side, right next to a wooden square where the band plays, officials have prepared a celebratory banquet fit for a queen. Your mouth waters just thinking about all the delicacies waiting to be devoured.

Were it up to you, you’d immediately charge for the food. But Mina has other plans. She pulls you towards a table—you didn’t even notice your training corps has gathered and selected one closest to the banquet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mina announces. “Our May Queen!”

A round of polite applause sounds until they get a better look at you.

Connie starts howling like a wild animal.

Somewhere Ymir is screaming her case that Christa should wear that dress instead.

Jean, sitting at the very front, just stares at you—and that of all lashes uncertainty across your chest like a spiky whip. You don’t think you have ever felt self-conscious in front of him, but now you are painfully aware of the low cut of your dress, the corset hugging your body tight and pushing your tits up into full, round mounds. It feels as though one move too much and your tights will rip in two. You are very aware of how you look as you slide onto the bench next to Jean. He doesn’t scoot over to make you place, leaving your thigh pressing right against his, but turns his head away and takes a big swig from his cup as though his mouth is parched.

Compared to Eren, Jean has manners, at least. Ever since you have joined, he hasn’t stopped staring blatantly at your tits.

“Hey,” Jean snaps. Eren doesn’t blink. “Hey, Jeager!” He snaps his fingers right in front of Eren’s eyes. “Eyes up, you freak.”

Eren startles, and blinks as if he’s just woken up from a dream. He looks from you to Jean, and very intelligently says, “Huh?”

“You look very pretty,” Marco mumbles into his cup from Jean’s other side because he is the only gentleman in this rowdy round of pigs.

“I could do with a little less cleavage,” you admit. “And a little more breathing.”

“Well, it’s tradition.” Jean fumbles with his wooden spoon as if it is particularly hot to the touch. When he drops it and it falls in the non-existing space between your touching legs, he glares at it very hard as if by doing that, he might will it back into his hands. You pick it up, hold it out to him. Jean stares at you as if he sees you for the very first time.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with a tradition that puts women into skimpy dresses?” you ask. Jean needs a full minute before he finally takes the spoon from you. It is deliberately careful as though you are handing him a sharp tool rigged with thorns that might jump at him any second.

He makes a point looking right into your eyes. “I just think you made a lot of guys very happy today.”

“Meaning how?”

He shrugs. “We guys just talk about stuff.”

You look sideways at him. “Anything interesting?”

Jean gives you a quick once-over and says, “Oh, you have no idea.”

You can tell he wants you to ask what, so you don’t.

Once the excitement settles and the feast begins, you slowly begin to feel more comfortable. You don’t think you’ll get used to the stares and gawking, and you can’t wait to wear your comfortable uniform again where the greatest offence is someone staring at your ass. But for only one day it is nice to be revelled for your womanhood, for your beauty, and the power a woman holds for bringing forth life from her womb.

The food is more delicious than anything you had during your trainee days. You don’t remember the last time you had meat. Roasted pig, a fatty chicken broth with fresh vegetables. Familiar recipes from your childhood are served at the banquet: raviolis, tardpolane, blancmange and clarer. The mead and beer flows in rivers, served by beautiful girls who all wear a distinct flower in their hair. Children come and share their treats with you, piling hills of sweet rolls, candies and honeyed biscuits onto your table. You’re glad Sasha is already working on it.

District Mayor Singman holds his speech about work and prosperity, about the great solidarity that made this feast possible in the first place and the great harvest waiting as a reward later in the year. Commander Pixis is next, but you barely listen to his praises about the recruits showing great promise and how he can’t wait to welcome them. You’re too busy peeking over at Eren who is peeking back at you from time to time. His pupils are blown black whenever his eyes trail over the crimson ribbon holding your front together—one pull on that ribbon alone and your whole dress would come undone.

 So you don’t pay much attention when Jean and Sasha and their teams go to the front and hold their competition. Only when the familiar scent of Ida’s omelette wafts to your table, you look up and see Jean standing up on the podium, looking a little lost as he presents his culinary creation to Commander Pixis. The fact that he used his favourite meal, one of Ida’s many dishes she has perfected over the years just so her little Jeanie would go nuts with joy, unfurls something in your chest, making you feel a warmth that you know has nothing to do with the mead in your belly.

Jean wins, and thus the festival’s games begin.

Everyone who wins a small wooden chip can switch it for a free drink, a treat or a small token of affection from yours truly, the May Queen—all in accordance with your consent, of course, and you’re glad Garrison and MP soldiers on duty make sure no one oversteps your boundaries. You doubt anyone is out for quarrel and blood today, anyway. Revelries like this one are such a rarity that nobody wants to fight.

Most have been very sweet so far. Old grannies and grandpas give you their gifted tokens to hold and pat your hand, telling you their stories—about past May Days and the games and feasts and joyous times before Wall Maria’s fall.

Sometimes you stop listening because you spot a handsome young man or pretty young woman throwing starry-eyed, flirtatious gazes your way from a distance, their chips held close and dear to their chests, unsure if they can come closer. You’ve only had a few sips from the mead served at every table, but you feel so warm, so comfortable. You always smile back at them.

Others would come to chink glasses or invite you to a quick dance under the intoxicating sound of a jolly fiddle and the beautiful voices of a bard duo.

Not even an hour in, the first familiar face emerges from the crowd of strangers. Reiner grins down at you when you roll your eyes in a teasing way.

“Popular, aren’t we?” he says, flipping the chip between his fingers. His shirt is torn at the collar, dust and dirt patches adorn his cheeks and the lower part of his shirt that’s half-tugged into his breeches. Behind him, Bertholdt trails him like a shadow, looking anxious as always when he’s swallowed by a foreign crowd. It isn’t the first time you notice that he’s attractive in this non-conventional way. He doesn’t stick out even though he is so damn tall; he isn’t overly handsome but you really adore his nose and his pale green eyes. Bertholdt catches your eyes and gives you a small, sheepish smile. He looks as though he’d rather face a dozen Titans than asking someone for a quick dance.

“Why am I not surprised?” You smile, slightly leaning forward as you prop yourself up on a fence you’ve been leaning against. Reiner’s eyes immediately drop to your neckline. He mirrors your smile, and you feel all warm and tingly in your belly, the honeyed taste of mead still sweet and heavy on your tongue. “But you look like someone roughed you up real good.”

“Grappling.” He gives a lazy shrug, but you can see that he’s secretly pleased to have won. “You should see the other guy.”

“Tell me then, what affection do you seek?” you recite the quote—not for the first or last time for this night.

His only answer is a suggestive grin, and then he leans over and brushes his lips over your cheek. It sends a bolt of electricity from your face down to your legs where your knees turn to cotton. Satisfied with your reaction, he saunters away, leaving you feeling warmer than after any dance so far. It takes a minute or two until your heart stops thrumming when the next suitors already wait in line.

“Just like I predicted,” Christa beams up at you. She’s circled by Ymir and Mina, and judging from the rose-red blush on their cheeks, you aren’t the only one who’s a few drinks in. They’re wearing flower crowns as well: blood-crimson and virgin-white petals sit proudly on their heads. Except Ymir. You can hardly imagine her a queen anyway. A knight seems more likely. Christa’s virtue has always been Ymir’s biggest priority during trainee days.

Mina sways a little. It takes a moment for you to realise she’s trying to pull something out of her pocket, and when she finally manages it without losing balance, she proudly presents you a wooden chip. “I have a chip,” she declares, just to make sure you don’t miss it. She holds it under your nose as if you might still doubt her. “It was Christa though who won it,” she adds very sadly.

“Yeah, but I’m the only one who can give Christa anything,” Ymir quickly butts in, throwing her arms possessively around Christa’s small frame.

You’re about to blurt that allowing Christa entrance into the MP is already more than anything one could get around here, when Mina slaps her hands on your cheeks and smashes her mouth on yours. Her lips are very, very soft, and she tastes like sweet apple cider.

As quickly, she pulls back, a happy smile spreading on her face.

You grin back. Before joining the military, you’ve kissed one or two boys in Trost, their names already long lost and withered in a garden where you’ve pledged to take care of new flowers that have grown over the last three years. The bouvardia’s little pink heads shake in excitement today.

Mina takes your hand and weaves you surprisingly soberly through the dancing and laughing crowd, dodging expertly whoever tries to reach for you because they want to invite you for another pint or dance. She leads you to a table a little off the main plaza where couples and children dance in never-ending circles to the music, and only when you sit down, a little confused from the new surroundings, you notice the familiar faces of your squad.

Connie and Sasha, arm in arm, sway to the music, singing gibberish lyrics that could be the right ones, could be their whole new take on it. Daz and Samuel try to outdrink each other, not caring about how unkindly their bodies will repay them come tomorrow. You notice Annie, Reiner and Bertholdt are not present and wonder what they might be up to. In your half-drunken state there’s only one answer you arrive at, one that makes you giggle into your mug and almost choke on the mead.

“What are you laughing at?” Jean asks. He has Marco and Armin in tow—one distinctly blushing, the other too aware, too attentive for your liking. Clearly, Armin hasn’t touched any booze yet, and clearly, that is about to change.

The moment he sits down, on cue, a bartender from the closest counter swipes in and distributes new mugs spilling over with beer.

“Here’s your drink, stranger,” he says. “Bottoms up.”

Armin obediently starts getting up.

The bartender gently presses him back down. “The drink, lad.”

“What’s it like, being the popular one for one day?” Jean asks as he leans over the table, wearing that stupid smug smile you’d love to punch off his face. Maybe with your mouth even. The thought whips you sober; kicks up dust that’s settled in a corner for such a long time that you forgot all about the feeling it’s hiding and what it’s like to mourn her.

Answer. You still have to answer, even though you’re afraid you might choke on that dust.

“That’s a whole day more than you’ll ever get, Kirschstein,” you say, quickly locking your lips to your tankard because your mouth feels too dry.

Jean flips you off. Beside you, Marco is fiddling with something in his lap, and when you take a closer look, you see he’s pushing a wooden chip into his palm with his thumb. He catches your gaze and flushes furiously.

“Jean,” he begins, startling Jean opposite from him. Quieter, Marco continues, “Jean won it.”

You level Jean with a long, silent gaze.

“What?” Jean mumbles.

“You saying you wouldn’t wanna kiss [Name]?” Connie shouts from the other end of the table.

Suddenly, it’s deafeningly silent.

“It’d be like kissing my own cousin,” he shouts back, his voice loud enough it almost breaks. From nervousness? From disgust?

The table laughs.

You laugh.

Suddenly, the mead sloshes heavy in your stomach like acid. Maybe you’ve just drunk too much.

The jest unlocks something that’s been holding Marco back. He quickly snatches your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles before dropping it again and lifting himself from the seat. He flees into the crowd of dancers, ears crimson red, Sasha’s cries to bring her more of the sticky honey roast falling on deaf ears.

When you look over at Jean, he’s staring at you, then at Marco, as if he’s just realised something, and his pupils grow large, black. Fathomless.

You need to know what’s going on in his head, but before you can voice your question—bold by wine and pleasure, you’re ready to cross the line—a storm in the form of Eren appears right beside you, trailed by Mikasa who—do your eyes deceive you?—looks as though she’s trying not to smile. She catches Armin’s eyes, and they both share a silent glance.

Eren announces his arrival by slamming a wooden chip right in front of you as though you have insulted him and now it’s his right to demand reparations to his status.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he demands.

You blink up at him, and it takes time before your eyes meet his as your attention gets lost on the way to his face: on his biceps, on his sharp collarbones winking at you from under his white shirt.

“What’s so hard to understand about it?” Jean snorts into his tankard. “It’s just for fun, Jaeger. Maybe you should look it up in a dictionary.”

Eren does look a little as though he’s never heard of that. You also can’t imagine him participating in a game for fun. He’d make a game of can knockdown into a question of life and death.

“You can give it to me, if you don’t want it,” Connie pipes up.

“You scared of girls, Jeager?” Jean continues, talking over whatever Connie has in mind with you. “This might be your only chance ever getting kissed by one before you head out beyond the Walls and die a horrible, pathetic death.”

“It’s stupid,” Eren says to you, as if you are the inventor of the May Queen’s tradition. “It cost me two coins to play the damn game and this is what I get?”

“No one is forcing you—” Connie tries again, sneaking his hand across the table to swipe the chip.

“Ohh, look at you, Eren, trying to pretend like you’d hate it,” you speak up now, slamming your hand over the chip and almost squishing Connie’s fingers under your palm. He jerks back, cradling his hand close to his chest. “You want to kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid.”

Once more, laughter rises from your table. You look into the faces of your friends and relish in being the reason for their joy.

Eren doesn’t think it’s funny. Eren Jaeger is fucking determined to prove you wrong. He slaps his hands around your cheeks, holding your head in place. Every sound dies at your table.

You’re about to tell him it’s just a joke, no need to get his knickers in a twist, but he’s dead set on his mission: Giving you a concussion because he smashes his mouth against your forehead and almost knocks you both out cold.

Jean, who’s still been laughing until this point, goes dead silent, looking sickly grey.

“Hey—” he begins, but gets knocked over by an over-excited and slightly drunk Connie, splashing beer all over himself.

Eren reels back, hand pressed against his mouth, his bottom lip bleeding where his teeth have grazed it. Your head throbs and you’re pretty sure your cheeks show red lines where he’s pressed his fingers into your skin with a bruising grip.

“Oh my God, don’t you know how to kiss someone?” Connie hollers, banging his fist on the table hard enough it shakes and you hear a distinct crack. Jean starts to climb over the table, ready to administer rough justice, but his foot gets stuck at the edge and he topples off the table right to the feet of a few girls who misinterpret it and haul him up to drag him away to the dance floor. Your whole table is attacked by merry dancers, and you’re yanked away from your friends when the minstrels begin their performance and the music picks up again. The sounds swell to a roar—as do the guest’s voices when they chime in with the jolly song.

The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba The Fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba ba

A great classic to start off the night. Ring-a-ring-of-roses it goes as the guests dance in a wide circle, arm in arm, shouting in tandem. You don’t know the faces to your left and right, but their smiles are infectious. You laugh so hard your belly and cheeks hurt. The circle breaks, pairs find together like bees to flowers. Now that everyone is on their feet and in a dancing mood, the minstrels start a new song. On and on in circles it goes—left and right, from partner to partner until faces blur and become unrecognisable.

Your head feels light, as though filled with cotton. You want to stay in this moment forever—dancing, singing, laughing.

A strong hand gently settles on your underarm. You look up at strong, broad shoulders and arms the size of logs. The man has slicked his blonde hair back neatly, and when he walks through the crowd, it parts naturally as though he is a force of nature to be reckoned with—and then he turns, and you look up in the sharp, blue eyes of Survey Corps Commander Erwin Smith.

A/N: Fingers crossed I'll upload the final chapter of the first act at the end of October.

***

Taglist: @arisu003, @brooki, @prttyangelbaby, @honeylmnade, @berriesandcrem

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

There are definitely more important things to say about the latest Taskmaster episodes than this (such as: one of the best couple episodes of the season so far, very funny, I enjoyed everyone, even Steve), but the main thing I want to say in a post is that I would have absolutely nailed that final task if I'd been on there. When they first read the rules I thought this is good, plays to John Robins' strengths, it's just like one of those games where he was always messing up Elis on the radio. My bragging rights are safe. Though honestly, they're pretty safe anyway at this point. He's now got a comfortable enough lead so I'm finding the episodes slightly less tense, which is rather nice.

However, once they started reading the questions, I realized the person for whom this task was actually designed is me. Did I mention that when I was a teenager I memorized the corresponding number to every letter of the alphabet? I test myself once a year or so to make sure I can still do it, and I always can. Give me any number between 1 and 26 and I can name the letter, give me any letter and I can tell you its numerical place in the alphabet. On a simple A=1, B=2, Z=26 system.

I tried playing along, played as John with the letter L so I could see if I could beat him at getting L-based answers despite his superior skills at this sort of thing, and every time, I got a correct answer before any of the Taskmaster contestants did, even though I didn't pause the video, and obviously they'd edited some time out of there so the video showed them getting it faster than they did in real life. On the first three I came up with the exact same answer that John Robins did. On the last two we had different words but starting with the same letter, because it was the correct letter, because John Robins is very good at games like this in general and I am very good at the specific, largely useless skill of knowing the corresponding letter to every number of the alphabet. When they got asked for something heavier than a cat that's ten letters behind yours, and I did a quick L=12-10=2=B in my head and said "bowling ball, wait, maybe some giant fucking cat could be bigger than some bowling balls, bear!", then seconds later John put up "car", and I yelled at him "no you idiot, say bear!" and then he changed it to "boulder" and won the round, and I was like, "Fucking right, look at my skill, coming in useful for the first time in my entire life, 18 years after I first learned it."

About 18 years, I think. I was about 15 when I memorized all that stuff for no reason, and I'm 33 now. Actually there was a reason, it was so I could write journal entries in code. Oh I've just remembered that, I still have all my old papers from high school in a bag hidden at the bottom of my desk, and they contain entire notebooks filled in in a code that says things like: "20-8-5-19-5 1-18-5 13-25 19-5-3-18-5-20-19". I think the first time I thought I might be gay and was too terrified to ever say it out loud or write it down in actual letters until about two years later, I did write in down in the impenetrable code. A code that I can still read and write pretty fluently, I think. I typed the numbered sentence in this paragraph almost as fast as I could have typed it in letters.

I had actually forgotten about the information in that last paragraph until it came back to me as I was writing this post; while watching that task I was just thinking this one of those many things I memorized as a teenager for no reason. Anyway. Aside from giving me a code to write about the high school crush I had on a girl in my geography class, I'm pretty sure knowing the numerical place of every letter in the alphabet has never benefited me in any way until I was able to feel pleased with myself for, as I said, absolutely nailing playing along to a Taskmaster task. I wish real life had things that tested you on stuff like this.

What was I talking about? I was supposed to be talking about Taskmaster. The bonus points task was very funny, I think they should do stuff like that more. They were all good this episode. So pleased to see Nick finally get an excuse to pull out the magic skills. And John got his Farthing collection in, with a fucking crowbar where it didn't fit at all, but at least his prize wasn't an internet meme this time, and I did get excited about getting to see the collection after hearing so much about it so many times.

9 8-1-22-5 20-15 1-4-13-9-20 20-8-1-20 1-20 20-8-9-19 16-15-9-14-20, 9'13 19-15 6-21-3-11-9-14-7 5-24-3-9-20-5-4 6-15-18 19-5-1-19-15-14 R 20-8-1-20 9'13 14-15 12-15-14-7-5-18 4-18-5-1-4-9-14-7 19-5-1-19-15-14 Q 2-5-9-14-7 15-22-5-18. 5-22-5-14 20-8-15-21-7-8 9'13 5-14-15-18-13-15-21-19-12-25 5-14-10-15-25-9-14-7 19-5-1-19-15-14 Q.

[eriexplosion]

3 4 13 15 18 for Ragnar/Floki/Athelstan 😊

AHHH THANK YOU MUCH another list for u

3. Scars or painful spots

Ragnar still has a HELL of a scar from Haraldson's raid on his farm, and this is one that loves will spend time petting when they're curled around him, especially Athelstan, because Ragnar got this partially protecting HIM.

Floki has many scars from a life of fighting (Biggest is from when Borg straight up hit him in the chest with an AXE) but his most specific pains are actually his joints. He's got that leather piece on his wrist in season one (possibly past that but I CANNOT REMEMBER) that I like to think it's a wrist brace, especially important as a ship builder since it'd be easy to hurt his wrists in his line of work.

Athelstan of course has his hands after his crucifixion. That's the kind of injury that may heal but it's ALWAYS going to hurt, and of course it's scarred over. He can still use them but they're always going to be fragile and easily hurt. If he writes or draws for long periods of time he needs to have gentle hand rubs.

4. Best places to kiss on their body

Ragnar would probably be a little shit here and say the best place to kiss him is his dick, something guaranteed to make Athelstan choke on his water and Floki to happily pipe up that HE ONLY NEEDED TO ASK.

Floki I think I've done previously for this question specifically but since he's very ticklish it's best to kiss him on spots where it'll tickle him and get a giggle. If you're not making Floki giggle when you kiss him what are you even here for?

...As you know, I am down for the 'Athelstan gets chubby after finally being well fed' headcanon so. Kiss that tummy. Kiss his belly and remind him that he's gorgeous please. (Also, cheek kisses will get him adorably red faced so these are also a favorite)

13. What gets them flustered

Ragnar can be thrown just by the presence of unexpected things, but it doesn't manifest as being flustered as much as... curious. He's very curious when something doesn't go the way that he expected. (This is part of why he took Athelstan home after all. He was nothing like Ragnar expected.)

Floki doesn't get flustered so much as INTENSELY EXCITABLE. The only things that really throw him off are when people do question his faith but then it's not like.... is it flustered if he's mostly just very very mad?

Athelstan gets flustered by ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. BLUSHY BOY. FLUSTERED AND GAY AND NEVER KNOWING HOW TO HANDLE IT. Once he gets a little more settled he gets less easily blushy fluster but early on, goddamn. It's everything.

15. What it takes to make them cry

Ragnar says he's an angry crier which is true but that's only a technicality because he gets angry every time he's sad. So like YES he is an angry crier but he's also only mad because he's SAD. Anyway for what it takes to get him here, Ragnar Cannot Handle loss. The thought that people and things he love can be taken away from him and he might not be able to change it or fix it? Absolutely not he CAN'T deal. There's not supposed to be anything he can't fix.

Floki probably cries the easiest out of the three because he actually does cry when he's frustrated and while he's normally in a perfectly fine mood, occasionally his brain DOES try to eat itself and he gets worked up and Cannot calm down and this is when he starts the frustrated tears.

Athelstan is actually the LEAST likely to cry I think, at least where people can see him. He is an EMOTIONAL REPRESSION boy, always ready to slam down his own feelings and try to ignore them. He'll only start crying when he's reached his absolute limit (so, when all his brothers are dead and he realizes he's stuck here for REAL and finally starts crying at the river.)

18. Things they’ll never admit

Ragnar won't admit fault, even when he KNOWS he's done something wrong. He'll be able to recognize privately that this is his fault and he'll try to make up for it in various ways but actually looking at someone and saying 'This is my fault and I'm sorry' is just. Challenge level impossible.

Floki...... does not have something lol. Literally he admits anything and everything because refusing to admit something means having something he's ashamed of people finding out and TRULY HONESTLY he does not know what shame feels like.

Athelstan meanwhile has ALL the shame, all of the shame one person can fit into their being, but he also feels guilty when he hides things so only the worst things (he thinks) are things he'll never admit. I have a headcanon that he had a crush on another monk when he was much much younger and this monk died of illness at some point and anyway, Athelstan still feels like somehow he killed him with the sin of having had a crush.

[andthebubbles]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

tagged by @zenia-7 (eeeee i got tagged in something tysm!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

22, but i hid some shit ones

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

231,660 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Bridgerton atm

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All F1, as it turns out:

Summer Break (224 kudos) 😬

Driver Evaluation (220 kudos) 😮 (simi)

Our Endless Numbered Days (163 kudos) 🥰 (sewis but secretly simi)

The Art of Talking (or Lack Thereof) (154 kudos) 🙂 (sebson)

Six Feet From Ice (140 kudos) 😬

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

Yes, unless it's rude

I reply because someone took the time to comment, so I'm gonna take the time to reply. Also, comments make me so happy. (I'm just not very good at holding onto that happiness haha)

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

It's a toss-up between The Ghost in These Halls and Our Endless Numbered Days. The first one is just... depressed Anthony never ever getting comfort (hurt no comfort eyyyyyy 😂😭), and the second one is... Seb revenge killing someone in front of his boyfriend soooOOOOO... not a good look Seb!!!

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

I have loads of happy endings!!! I swear!!!!!

...idk, any of my fluff and/or crack fics I suppose

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far but I feel like on some future Bridgerton fic I will.................. this fandom is insane

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

Yep. Currently anyway. Not usually. But I got Thirsty. Very Thirsty.

Uhh 'what kind'? Idk. Filthy gay mlm smut.

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

No but what if I gif-blended Benedict and Tim from Fellow Travellers

Also i feel like a crossover of the cracky sort might've been co-written during like, high school days... but yeah nah it was just for fun.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Er.......... maaaaybe on wattpad? I vaguely remembed something like that happening to f1 fics, but idk/I can't remember if mine was popular enough to be stolen

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think someone asked me for some fic (eta: Driver Evaluation) but I never saw the result

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

Yes, for the Beatles. We also co-wrote a crack poem in the comments on LJ and it's still one of my favourite things ever

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

......I don't think I can pick one. I still like simi. And I like Anthony & Benedict, and Anthony/Benedict too, but more in the way that I ignore that they're brothers. A bit like shipping JB/LT, except I'm too lazy to learn enough about them to write them. (Tbh idek if I like them because I know nothing about them skjfngkfjngk) But also they're not as enticing as Anthony and Benedict's personalities. So like, it's kinda like, I have the knowledge that they're not actually brothers, and then just loving their dynamic.

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

I ALWAYS HAVE HOPE THAT I WILL FINISH MY WIPS

Though, the a&b modern AU fic (benedict the artist, i.e. the one where Anthony loves his brother's art from day one and becomes his biggest supporter (and makes him do his GCSE Art assignments for him)) has kinda stalled because I am reluctant to kill Edmund. Shockingly. But anyway I'm mentioning this because I still haven't gotten an ending for it. But then again I've hardly thought about it because I've been soooo distracted with a/b fic

16. What are your writing strengths?

It's kinda weird; when I started writing I got praised for my dialogue; nowadays I get praised for my descriptions. Does my dialogue suck now?! skjfgnkfjgnk

But the real answer is: writing action, like, ~this happens, then this, then... etc

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Getting into a character's head/the other character's head/trying to figure out what they think of some ~thing happening/trying to figure out what they know without my own knowledge interfering 😭

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

Don't do it if it's not obvious what it means, or if you don't immediately explain it. By the time I see it in the a/n I'm not scrolling back up

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Spirited Away

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I have a few... but for the effort put into it, and the uniqueness, and the time spent thinking about it, and agonising over it... AND the initial smoothness of it, how easy it was to write nearly 80k words in like 3ish months... gotta be sebis fic aka Our Endless Numbered Days :3

Tagging (you don't have to do it): @4xmulti21champion @wolfsbanesbite @suspendingtime @smooth-boob @lucktofate + anyone else who wants to do it

[nonbinaryezrabridger]

thanks to @judgeverse for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

177 total! I'm still astonished at that amount tbh

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

480,869

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently: Sg1, sga, and sgu mainly. Star trek but not new trek. Star wars rebels. Mad max, mainly fury road. Pacific rim occasionally. The thing 1982. I've written a ton more fandoms than that but I'm not active in those routinely

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

My highest is an old x men fic at 167 kudos. Only one of my top five is a fandom I'm still in, and that's stargate atlantis at 166.

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

As much as possible. Sometimes I'm simply too drained by real life to answer every comment, but I try to answer all of them if I can. I feel it's important to let my readers know the comments really do impact me, they're really important to keep me motivated and I want other fans to know that. There's been times a single comment convinced me to finish a fic, or write a whole new concept.

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

definitely this she ra fic, posted while the show was coming out, where scorpia tries to reach out to catra, her attempt to help is rejected, and she lets herself be willingly consumed by the world ending magic. Most of my angst always has a happy ending, so this one is perhaps my only 100% angsty fic

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

Probably this the thing 1982 fic, where I take characters from a horror movie where they all die horribly, and instead have them live a happy gay domestic life with no alien monster.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

one fic from a fandom I shall not name got so much hate I deleted it for my own health. Otherwise, I got one angry comment on a she ra fic once

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

no, i've dabbled in it once or twice, but don't like it much. I doubt i'd ever write anything more explicit than suggestive content or sex based jokes

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

I wrote a fic with the get down characters in the mad max universe, but without any crossover of mad max characters. It's just the get down characters in the universe. that's definitely not my most popular fic, but I enjoyed writing it nonetheless

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope, but the idea scares me. fortunately I like weird things no one else does, so I think the chances of someone stealing my content is low

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

yes! it was a great experience, would totally do it again as long as I was close with the other person cowriting

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

My top relationships are both from the get down, my first being thizzee. However, my top ship for a fandom that isn't dead is teal'c/daniel/sam from stargate sg1

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

pretty much all my unfinished get down fanfics. I love them all and want to finish them, but it's painful to think about the show with the cancellation and how it canonically ended, and also I don't know if anyone would even read them, so very low priority at this point

16. What are your writing strengths?

internal monologue of characters

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

anything sexy or overly romantic. Kissing is really hard for me

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

I'm not comfortable with messing it up. I deleted a very popular fic of mine because I wasn't happy with the writing of the asl in it. I'm still working on editing it to be better and still hope to post it and finish it this time. However, I'd rather not write something at all than portray it in a harmful way. If it's something I can research and do well, I'll do that, but I feel some things are just not for me to write about and that's fine

19. First fandom you wrote for?

First posted was the lord of the rings movies. First ever written was probably teen titans. Funnily enough, neither of those are still posted and I've never written for those fandoms since. Of my actual posted work, my first fandom was dc's legends of tomorrow, which I no longer write for either, but I left the fics up

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I couldn't choose just one.

So, of my longest fics:

This sga fic, with team sheppard as a queerplatonic quartet raising torren together. They get pulled into an alternate universe and have to save the world (again)

Of my shortest fics:

This space sweepers fic about bub's trans identity. Ends happily with her successful transition

tagging @campgender, if you'd like to! Feel free to ignore if not

[curejiraiya]

I feel very bad and in an effort to try and get my brain to disassociate from this mortal realm I am going to tell you all about one of my OCs. if you read this thank you but if it bores you do not worry I do not mind.

okay so today I'm gonna ramble about a guy named Chris Sanders. Chris is 27? iirc I have it written down somewhere. 27 or 28. He's married to his husband Nick, they took Nick's last name (low-key I forgot what his maiden name was lmfao)

They got married on Valentine's Day 2020, but we're engaged like 2018 just some stuff:tm: happened and the wedding had to be held off. It was a funny thing like I had that wedding planned for Valentine's Day and in real life shit was getting co viddy and I made a conscious decision in story to have it be like the last "big" event the characters got to go to before they started staying inside for safety. that's not relevant, anyway.

Chris and Nick actually got together when they were like 14 and 16? Chris met Nick a year before and was very like fairytale love at first site about him. Really he was a 15 year old boy he wasn't thinking logistics other than "boy in my friend group cute."

There's a whole thing with Chris, Josh, and Jay as teens has a weird relationship where Chris was openly gay, Josh hated him for it (Josh is gay/bi? but it takes him 10 years real time to figure it out) Josh and Jay were best friends and Jay was gay but very very in the closet. and the only person who knew Jay was gay was Chris, who were secret friends because Josh hated Chris. Publicaly Chris pretended to hate josh to keep up appearances but in reality Jay had only said good things about Josh so he didn't really mind him. He was just kinda a hormonal teenager, and he liked fighting and Josh kept fighting him lmao.

God there's a lot more here lol like they're friends because the three of them plus a handful of other people, some who literally have died in story since, were in a "school club" together? I'm also keeping the details vague because I wrote them when I was 13 and it's cringe.

You can tell what age I was when I wrote something if you know the ages of any character, cuz me and Nick Sanders are the same age. Derrin is one year older than Nick. Chris is two. Josh, Jay, and Liam are both three, and Collin is five years older. Jay is also actually older than Collin but maybe I'll write about his tragic backstory another night.

But speaking of tragic backstories Chris was born to a single mother, he has a younger brother. neither of them knew their father but they don't care. his mother was decent for a single mother in poverty until he started showing signs of being gay as early as 10. she was super religious so she asked her church what to do and they only suggested various child abuse lmao needless to say Chris was removed by CPS at 13. that's why he knows the rest of the guys cuz they were all in the same "orphanage". his mom wasn't weird to his brother, but his brother has a moral compass and left the house at 18 because he couldn't stand what she did to his brother (he's only like 20 now very baby.)

holy shit remember what I said last night about how everyone is in a duo or a trio? Chris's brother is ALSO in a duo lol I literally do not have a character who exists as a single personality without a friend to be their foil. anyway Chris's brother and Chris are decently close, Chris's brother is trying to make it as a music manager and conveniently Chris is in a band lmao. His brother lives with a friend Josh made during a hospital stay. that's a whole story but essentially he was a cancer patient throughout all his teenage years and it was his first time being 100% free of visiting the hospital at least once a week since he was a child. the band was looking for a place for him to stay because he was scared of living alone and conveniently Chris had an 18 year old brother who needed a roommate. now they're bff's or something.

hey this was supposed to be about Chris but two characters who I don't even remember the names of have taken over

anyway uhhh god I could spout Chris facts for days not even joking. one of the characters who died is essentially a self insert for specifically 13 year old me. like she died before I really became an adult lol. but Chris was her best friend until her death, so for awhile Chris was the character I focused on the most. nowadays that's Josh but I mean Chris and Josh live in the same house so it's not like he doesn't come up often.

right this second Chris and Nick are staying with a musician friend in New York. they're actually fighting because

well

how do I explain this that doesn't go on for a long time

so remember earlier when I said they were part of a school club as teens. well the world actually has a magic system because all good worlds have magic systems. and specifically Josh, the dead girl, Chris, & Jay are some of the best at magic in the entire galaxy and like . cringe at myself but the gang like we're all orphans in some way but they lived in 1 of 4 us based orphanages specifically for magician children. I never use the term wizard they're strictly magicians. magicians also live outside the US it's just other countries don't have weird orphanages. or didn't at the start of the story at least. anyway fuck so idk skipping 10+ years of lore. Chris has a lot of inherit magic skill, but he doesn't practice he stopped right after highschool to focus on their band and music. in highschool every one in the club like saw a private magic tutor but Chris didn't really continue. not that he doesn't do magic all the time like he does, he just doesn't study to learn how to do his magic more efficiently or learn more magic. fuck. anyway Jay DOES still study and stayed with his tutor like 10 years later. and you can tell because Jay has become one of the strongest magicians in the world. of course Josh is the strongest magician ever because of plot conveniences that could be talked about if I was talking about him. but Chris is mega jealous of Jay and angry at himself for not continuing his studies. So one day a random magic being (we have those here) contacts Chris from like a very far away dimension (even this is lore filled and complicated.) he promises to help Chris surpass Jay but he has to wear his super special necklace. the necklace is like logging information on Josh so this being can attack him later but I mean Chris doesn't know that this is like a RIGHT NOW plot. a lot led up to this lmfao. so Nick and Chris are fighting because Chris is suddenly WAY better at magic (Because of the necklace) and because of a lot of unrelated stuff Nick is thinking about moving to California. and he tells Chris and Chris unknowingly mind controls Nick into being happy with where he is now. Because like his magic has gotten so strong that if he wants something he can just mind control people into giving it to him (and unknowingly has been for a few months) but Nick's only magic power is that he can tell when magic is being used (and he only has that power because of another crazy plot where he died lmfao) so he notices pretty quickly that hes being mind controlled and hes pissed. so Chris confesses about the necklace but tells Nick to keep it a secret. Nick tells him he's being stupid and that he needs to get rid of the necklace. Chris doesn't think it's the necklace he thinks he just can't control his new power yet. and after one big fight they're now like both just avoiding talking about it again and being really distant from each other. it's sad rlly I don't like seeing the besties fight 😔 I kinda know how the plot is going to play out but I'll give them time.

idk did you actually learn anything about Chris from this? he's 5'4 he has black hair and it's currently really long so he keeps it in a bun most of the time. he's a death metal singer. hes super masculine and no one questions his height because he comes off as so masculine otherwise lmao. he's really into like 80s and older metal and idolizes rob hellford. he wears pleather a lot cuz he has a leather allergy but thinks leather jacks kick ass. he's definitely like kinda a stereotypical metal head / punk? very like a day to remembers "fast forward to 2012"-core. that's his theme song I just decided.

what else are u supposed to say about a character. since I mentioned magic I can say that his like magic skill set is about defence so he can make giant shields and force fields. he's super important if they ever have to like fight someone which doesnt happen often but does happen.

oh he plays guitar but also like every instrument. I always imagined their band to have a two singer setup where him and Nick switch off or sing together. but I mean most of the band has been doing this 10+ years and can play whatever role so they just do whatever is fun for that night.

uhhhhh idk if I got any more facts on the top of my head. Chris uhhhh played trumpet in highschool band. He speaks fluent Japanese, Spanish, German, and French. Derrin is the only member of the band with a degree but Chris has an honorary degree from some university he donates money too. Chris is like very punk politically active he actually goes to protests and is always talking about causes important to him. he's a good guy but his flaws mostly lie in his jealousy, and he definitely has a little big of an ego lol. he cares too much about looks too imo like he doesn't THINK he does but he does.

but idk big baby man who's hard on outside but heart of gold on inside. do I know how to write any other kind of character?!

omg I didn't even talk about how Chris is disabled. or how he has a vaping problem. that's the problem with having these characters for so long, how the fuck can I reasonably sum them up?

idk but it did work. 😴 good night if u read this far idk why u did but ty there's no payoff. sorry I did not proofread this.

[just-a-honey-badger]

I posted 351 times in 2022

That's 351 more posts than 2021!

91 posts created (26%)

260 posts reblogged (74%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@frey-the-they

@an-ungraceful-swan

@fromthemouthofkings

@shipsgaysfordays

@too-many-fandoms-to-explore

I tagged 187 of my posts in 2022

Only 47% of my posts had no tags

#marauders era - 15 posts

#ask bel - 13 posts

#important - 11 posts

#asks - 10 posts

#marauders - 10 posts

#sirius black - 9 posts

#wolfstar - 9 posts

#remus lupin - 8 posts

#ask game - 8 posts

#the marauders - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 114 characters

#that song i was talking about is everybody talks by neon trees and its fucking amazing but noooooo i have ptsd now

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

AGHHGHGHGH I CANT

i changed this just now and the edited version is at the bottom

SO I WAS JUST SCROLLING THROUGH #wolfstar headcanons AS ONE DOES AND I GOT A CRAP TON OF PROMPT IDEAS

SO I'M GONNA WRITE MY ULTIMATE COMFORT FIC (IF THAT'S A THING) AND IT'S GONNA BE SO GOOOOOOD

AND SO

LONG, FLUFFY MARAUDERS FIC (WOLFSTAR, JEGULUS, DORLENE, ETC) WITH EVERYONEEEE (JAMES, SIRIUS, REMY, PETE (BUT PETE’S ALRIGHT AND DOESN’T KILL ANYONE), REG, LILY, MARY, MARLENE, DORCAS, PANDORA, BARTY, EVAN, ALICE, FRANK, PANDORA, (MAYBE XENO IDK IF HE WENT TO SCHOOL AT THE SAME TIME AS THEM))

THAT FADES INTO JEGULUS RAISING HARRY (LILY AS SURROGATE MOM)

THAT BECOMES DRACO HERMIONE RON AND HARRY ALL BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS

AND THEN DRARRY BC WHY TF NOT

BUT MOSTLY REALLY MARAUDERS

AND FLUFF

AND FRIENDS

AND GAY

AND ENDLESS CAMPING TRIPS

AND WONDERFUL

BUT NO SMUT OR ANGST

SO IF YOU'RE INTO THAT KINDA THING

WHEN I'M DONE IT (IN LIKE THREE MONTHS BC I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED IT AND I'M WORKING ON TWO OTHER STORIES RN)

I WILL SHARE THE LINK

edited version:

LONG, FLUFFY MARAUDERS FIC (WOLFSTAR, JEGULUS, DORLENE, ETC) WITH EVERYONEEEE (JAMES, SIRIUS, REMY, REG, LILY, MARY, MARLENE, DORCAS, PANDORA, BARTY, EVAN, ALICE AND FRANK)

THAT FADES INTO JEGULUS RAISING HARRY (LILY AS SURROGATE MOM) AND PANDALILY RAISING LUNA AND FRALICE RAISING NEVILLE AND EVERYONE LIVES TOGETHER

AND THEN DRACO HERMIONE HARRY LUNA AND NEVILLE ALL GROW UP AS CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND MEET GINNY AND RON

AND THEN THE REST OF THE UNEDITED VERSION STAYS THE SAME

12 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

#4

✨the queue✨: a guide

the queue is great! it's helpful if you want to post regularly or if you have lots of posts you want to reblog but don't want to do all at once.

you can queue posts by either a) clicking the reblog button > clicking the arrow next to it once it opens the page where you can add comments > selecting 'add to queue'; or

b) going into settings > clicking on the part that says 'labs' (where tumblr has new features they're working on) > turning on 'fast queue' (this adds a new icon next to the 'reply' and 'reblog' icons where you basically reblog a post but 'add to queue' is the default).

and why would i want to post regularly, you ask? well, the more you post (and the more diverse posts you have), the more likely it is for your posts to reach more people. accurate tags help with this, too. it also helps if you need to post at a consistent schedule for whatever reason, but can't always log on at the same time every day.

if you want to queue your posts at more random times, go into labs and turn on 'queue 2.0'. this enables a more detailed way to schedule your queued posts. i had to play around with it before i found something i liked, and i suggest you do too.

that's it

14 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

#3

*screech*

what if, and hear me out, the black family was not french, but japanese? and yes, the original idea started from a wolfstar fic tag on ao3. i forgot which one, sorry.

back to the main point. give me sirius and regulus not speaking french, but japanese. i get that french is a language of love, and all that, but i don't care. give me remus and james falling in lOVe when they hear the black brothers speaking japanese to each other.

please. someone. i'll never get around to doing it myself; do you know how many wips i have in my drafts? (answer: a lot)

16 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

#2

writing a new marauders fic where all the marauders in the afterlife react to harry's daily life (not his war stuff but like his cringe everyday stuff)

22 notes - Posted November 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

okay, but what if peter didn't exist and regulus was in his place and james and remus took sirius and regulus's last name and the marauders were all the blacks and they went to see walburga and were like 'hey mom!' and walburga fucking flips

173 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[transgirlcharlie]

(edit: pretend this says charmac i cant fucking read it took me like 20 tries to see this said 'charlie headcanons' ajsjskskakaleg jared 19 who??? i will do just charlie ones later.)

the ones that i currently have notes on are:

mac would (try to) protect charlie from bullies by fighting them. but we know mac doesn’t know to use whatever strength he has, so he would end up being beat up. but no one hurts charlie’s best friend so charlie himself would go crazy at them for hurting mac and bite at and fight them and he definitely wins that fight

when mac’s dad went to jail, to cheer him up, they initially went to go throw rocks at cats. but mac realised that probably hurt the cats (and he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt) so they ended up just playing with them instead. they both chose their favourite and brought it back to mac’s place. charlie named his cat ronnie after his favourite person & mac named his charles after his favourite person. they weren’t allowed to keep the cats inside tho : (

edit: oh and when they brought the cats inside they bought cat food and stuff for them & that's when charlie first started eating cat food!

when mac was at charlie’s house, he realised the only food they had in was cheese and soup. so, 10 year old them went shopping together alone, due to mac insisting. using money mac stole from his house to pay for food for charlie’s house

whenever u*cle j*ck was over, mac would always allow charlie to sleep over at his. it wasn’t even a question. mac wouldn’t let charlie in his own house when he knew his uncle was there too

[chronicfandombrain]

Byler vs Destiel (Why I have hope for canon Byler after getting baited by Destiel)

Why compare Byler and Destiel at all? 

So, the first thing you’re probably wondering about is why the heck I’m writing this meta in the first place. Stranger Things and Supernatural are wildly different shows, aren’t they? Well, yes, yes they are. However, there are some key similarities that I’ve noticed surrounding Destiel and Byler now that ST season 4 has come out and Byler has gotten big. I thought it would be interesting to explain my reasoning in continuing to hope for canon Byler despite having been thoroughly let down by Spn in regards to Destiel.

2. First things first: a quick rundown of Destiel. 

If you’ve watched spn you can skip this part. I’m assuming most Bylers have not watched Spn because Stranger Things is a widely popular and acclaimed show while Spn is… well, let’s say more of a cult classic with a niche audience. Supernatural is a Monster of the Week show created by Eric Kripke, which originally began airing all the way back in 2005 (I was 2 yrs old.. gotdamn) and ran for 15 seasons total, ending in 2020. Destiel is the wildly popular ship of repressed bisexual monster hunter Dean Winchester and gay angel Castiel. If you were on Tumblr anytime around November 5th of 2020 you probably remember Spn fans freaking the hell out and filling everyone’s dash with memes, and you have probably received some sort of important news about world events in this delightful format.

This was a result of the airing of Season 15 Episode 18, aptly titled Despair, in which Cas confessed his love for Dean and then immediately fricken died, never again to be seen on screen. Many fans (myself included) were hopeful that Cas would come back in the finale and Dean would reciprocate the confession. That… did not happen. Instead Dean got impaled on a giant nail and died, without his love for Cas ever being confirmed. Without even his bisexuality ever being confirmed (despite bi Dean having been hinted at before Cas even joined the show). Fans were understandably upset about this.

3. Okay, so, what are these aforementioned similarities between Destiel and Byler?

There are some obvious ones, like Spn and ST both being monster shows, but mostly I’ve noticed some Dean & Mike parallels, Will & Cas parallels, and parallels in the ways the ship is perceived by fans. To be clear, I don't think these parallels are intentional on the part of the Duffers, but I think they're worth examining anyway. I’m going to start with Dean and Mike, because that’s where I feel some of the similarities are the strongest. In the interest of comparison, I’m going to look at this through the lens of bi Mike, although obviously gay Mike is a valid interpretation with a good amount of evidence as well (see the byler google slides). Some strong arguments for Destiel and Byler on the sides of Dean and Mike are their reactions when their best friends are in danger, missing, or dead/presumed dead.

(Dean looking for Cas after he goes missing in purgatory)

Okay, I can't find any gifs for this one which is criminal tbh, but just pretend you're looking at a bunch of gifs of season 1 Mike telling everyone over and over that they need to look for Will/find Will.

(Dean falling to his knees after Cas dies in front of him)

(Mike when they pull the fake Will out of the quarry)

(Dean tells Cas he needs him while Cas is being controlled by heaven and forced to attack Dean, this breaks Cas out of his brainwashing)

(Mike tells Will asking him to be his best friend is the best thing he's ever done, interrupting Will's possession enough that he can get a message out)

(Dean reuniting with Cas after he goes missing in purgatory)

(Mike reuniting with Will after he goes missing in S1)

Seeing some similarities? The deeply repressed bi character who only expresses how important their friend is to them when something terrible is happening or has happened? Also, frustratingly, when said friend is possessed or missing and can't hear them. (Yes, both Cas and Will have been possessed and then brought to their senses by a coded love confession from the other half of their respective ships…)

Beyond that, much of the speculation around Mike and Dean by fans comes from body language, specifically micro-expressions and lip-glances. 

(This one's a destiel classic)

(the tension is so bad in this one that it's lowkey uncomfortable to look at)

(the infamous triple take)

Mike and Dean are also the characters who are more widely perceived as straight by the general audience, with hints to their bisexuality (or possibly homosexuality in Mike’s case) being subtle enough that you only really catch them if you’re looking for it.

(ah, bi lighting.)

(the one way sign pointing to the closet in Mike's room)

(Dean panics in bisexual)

(okay Mike no one said you weren't....)

Let’s move on to Cas and Will. These are characters who are canonically gay (or bi maybe for Cas?? Idk they’re pretty unclear about it in the show! Most people say gay so I’m going with that for this post) and canonically in love with their best friends. These are the characters who are more obvious to the GA, and are often painted in a light of unrequited love. Their love is also shown in a more narrative way, mostly through intentional writing choices rather than through body language and things that could be chalked up to acting choices. Cas’s love for Dean comes through very clearly in his character arcs, as he betrays heaven for him (multiple times) and allies with their enemies in an attempt to protect him (multiple times) and sacrifices himself for him (multiple times). 

(The angel Metatron taunting Cas)

(Cas leaves Dean in purgatory to protect him)

(Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty (superhell) to save Dean. Yes the Empty looks like black goo and not a tunnel of fire.)

Will’s character arc in season 4 is pretty much entirely about his feelings for Mike, and specifically him, you could say, sacrificing his feelings for Mike in order to make Mike happy by keeping him and El together.

(pain)

The natural conclusion that you would come to for the narrative arcs of both of these characters, suffering in supposed unrequited love, is a resolution in which their love is returned. However, this didn’t happen in Supernatural. So why do I think it will happen in Stranger Things? 

Looking at all of these similarities felt disheartening to me at first. I only got into the Byler after the end of season 4, and I was almost immediately struck by how familiar the situation felt to me. It was incredibly reminiscent of being a Supernatural fan during the airing of Season 15: reading meta after meta filled with evidence for a Destiel endgame, everyone hyped up and so convinced it would go canon, people jokingly calling themselves delusional for expecting the natural resolution of a story-line that had been dangled in front of them for eleven long seasons. But I have a lot of faith in Byler, even after being let down by the Spn finale, and here’s why.

4. Main character Will Byers vs fan favorite Castiel

Are you ready for even more supernatural lore? Again, you can just skim this if you’ve watched spn. The character of Castiel is introduced in Supernatural Season 4 Episode 1: Lazarus Rising. Funny thing about Cas—he was only supposed to be on the show for like three episodes! Cas’s story-line was actually supposed to go to another angel character, Anna. Due to some actor drama or something Cas replaced Anna and got her story-line. And fans LOVED Cas, so much so that when they tried to permanently kill him off in Season 7, ratings dropped so low that they decided to bring him back. The interesting thing about Cas and Destiel is that it was pretty much all accidental, at least at first. It was much less about genuine writing choices, and much more about insane actor chemistry and casual ship-baiting by the writers. Destiel was a ship that started off without much canon basis, but over the next eleven seasons became more and more textually supported until the writers had pretty much no choice except to address it. This was due to a lot of things: changing show-runners, changing writers, and the actors themselves becoming more open to the possibility of the ship. If you want a full explanation of how Supernatural accidentally trapped themselves into telling an epic gay love story, I would highly recommend this video:

However, despite the wild popularity of Cas and Destiel, Cas never gained the true main character status of Dean and Sam (Dean’s brother). While Dean and Sam both appear in almost every episode of Spn, Cas disappears for episodes at a time and often only appears for the particularly plotty sections. While I think the changing writers and show-runners allowed for Cas to become more valued in later seasons, his character often gets sidelined in favor of the brothers. 

So, let’s now contrast this with Will Byers. Will is definitely one of the main characters of Stranger Things—his disappearance is the inciting incident of the series, and his possession is one of the biggest plot points of season two. While he has been less central to seasons three and four, there is always time devoted in the show to his character, and for the past two seasons his arc has mainly dealt with him struggling as a closeted gay teenager in the 80’s, and him feeling sidelined by Mike with his relationship with El. Unlike Castiel, Will was always meant to be a main character, possibly the main character when you consider that the Duffers originally planned to kill El in the season 1 finale. Will being gay was also planned from the beginning, with hints going all the way back to the first episode. Stranger Things is also known for including a lot of foreshadowing, references, and parallels for watchful viewers to pick up on and analyze. Nothing about Will’s character is accidental, and that gives me hope that he will have a satisfying conclusion to his character arc. Which leads me to my second point—

5. Stranger Things is a really good show. Supernatural… is a mixed bag

To be honest, Supernatural is a mess of a show. It changed show-runners like every four seasons, the writers got switched out a lot and the quality of the writing varies drastically between episodes, plot points were recycled, narrative and character arcs were abandoned, everyone dies and comes back to life multiple times, half of it is shitty filler, and like twice a season there’s an episode so incredibly good it keeps you coming back for more. In short: Supernatural is made for TV. Now, I don’t want to get into my personal vendetta against long-running network television shows, but basically I think that having to crank out a new episode of a show every week for years reduces the quality of that show drastically. Things work best when they have a clear beginning and ending, and they know how they’re going to progress from point A to point B. Not to get off topic, but this is why I absolutely love the Mike Flanagan Netflix shows (Hill House, Bly Manor, Midnight Mass), and why I’m actually glad that Hannibal was forced to wrap up in three seasons. The longer a show is, the more chances it has to fuck up the characters and the plot progression. Stranger Things is right in that sweet spot—I think that it will tell exactly the story it wants to tell, no more and no less. Stranger Things is generally a much higher quality show than Supernatural, and I trust it much more to properly handle its characters and relationships. Supernatural, in my opinion at least, made a massive mistake in killing all the main characters in the finale when all of them had pretty much spent 15 seasons suffering and struggling to survive. The only satisfying conclusion to those characters would have been to see them finally allowed to be happy and peaceful and together, regardless of Destiel. I seriously doubt that the Duffers would ever make this mistake, especially as they have already stated that they’re not Game of Thrones and don’t intend to go grimdark and kill all their main characters. I think that Stranger Things intends to give the characters (and audience) what they want—I think at the end of the day the ST kids will all end up happy and safe. And the way they have set this up, there really isn’t a lot of opportunity for happiness for Will without Byler.

My S5 endgame predictions are pretty much: Byler happens, Max wakes up and Lumax get to go on their theater date, El breaks up with Mike and gets to spend more time with Max (the happiest we’ve seen her is with Max), and Dustin has a big brother little brother moment with Steve that will make me cry (I know people think Steve will die in S5 but honestly I think after Eddie there’s no way they would kill Dustin’s big brother figure TWICE, that would be too cruel to his character). I think Stranger Things wants these characters to end up happy, and I trust them to fulfill the narratives that they’ve been building since season one. Will and El as characters have suffered so much, and I don’t think that they will end up in the same crappy patterns they’ve been repeating for seasons now when those patterns obviously need to be broken in order for them to be happy. 

In conclusion: despite the similarities I see between Destiel and Byler, I’m pretty confident that Byler is endgame and will succeed where Destiel (and Spn as a whole) failed, because ST is a well-thought out, high quality show, and Spn was a dearly beloved mess. This is my first time writing meta, so I’m sorry if anything is confusing! I’m also admittedly not the best at media analysis (it did take me four seasons to pick up on Byler), so if any of my fellow Byler scholars would like to chime in and interpret these findings further, that would be very welcome! Thanks for reading! (:

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 1, Episode 2

Episode 2 picks up the morning day after the initiation party, the girls are having breakfast lunch at their dorm, the boys at theirs, and everyone wants the juicy details about what happened at the party...

Culture: Tell me more, tell me more, did you get very far? Although, it's pretty funny how the roles are reversed, Maddie is all "meh" about it, while Nils tells a different story. Then again, since when do you get together after a blowjob?

Culture: I actually have no idea why Simon is having breakfast at Skogsbacken, since regular schools only cover lunch for students, everyone eats breakfast at home, and then goes to school. Then again, it allows a scene where (Never mind, they're having lunch, thanks @kamand !) Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm casts some nervous glances at Simon after having been called out for disappearing at the party and almost forced to confess to making out with someone.

Culture: I know Felice is trying to put August down, but don't knock a proper Swedish pizza! As much as I like living in the US, they can't fucking make pizzas here, and the first thing I eat every time I go back to Sweden is always a real pizza. With pineapple and shrimp as God intended pizza to be made!

Culture: August is namedropping ski resorts in the Alps, which is where you go skiing in Europe if you have money, although Saint-Martin-de-Belleville is actually near Val Thorens in France, while Verbier is in Switzerland. It does have a three-star restaurant, though. Sweden and Norway have a couple of decent ski resorts, but the Scandinavian mountain chain is simply not as impressive as the Alps.

Subtext: Remember Wilhelm getting up and hurrying to math class in the beginning of the scene? It was so he could grab the other seat next to Simon, because he knows Simon is gonna sit next to Sara, since no-one else does.

Culture: Formally greeting your teacher before class is very uncommon in Sweden, but since Hillerska is all about discipline and tradition, of course they do it. Note that they're again using the formal Swedish title for male teachers, Magister, which in a regular school would be kind of a joke, since teachers and students are on a first-name basis with each other.

Subtext: Wilhelm is exposing how the world works if you have money. At Simon's old school, studying alone would result in good grades, but Hillerska is slightly corrupt and almost expects the students to essentially pay for getting a good grade.

Subtext: Simon is lying to his teacher, he absolutely hasn't talked to his parents about paying for private lessons.

Subtext: No, Sara absolutely does care about what other people think about her, and when she directly tells Felice that she would actually like some friends, that's when Felice gets it and starts making an effort to become real friends with her.

Culture: They're all bilingual at Simon's home, they're all speaking Spanish and Swedish, although Linda has a very noticeable accent to her Swedish. Based on demographics and statistics, the most likely scenario is that Linda immigrated to Sweden from Chile, met Micke, and started a family. In real life, Omar Rudberg was born in Venezuela and grew up in Sweden, while Carmen Gloria Pérez was born in New York, and grew up in Puerto Rico.

Subtext: Remember how I talked in the intro post about how distant social classes know nothing of each other? Ayub and Rosh are either working class or lower middle class like Simon, and since rowing is a typical upper class sport, they know nothing of it, they don't even think of it as a real sport. Unlike football, which is a proper working class sport, they know all about that!

Subtext: Scandinavia has Jantelagen, and everyone there thinks it's uniquely Scandinavian, but all countries have some form of Tall Poppy Syndrome. In this scene, Simon is starting to make a class journey, he started rowing, he started trying to fit in with the other upper-class kids, and getting into a relationship with someone as upper-class as Wilhelm would definitely move him all the way. But going on a journey means leaving things behind, which is why Rosh and Ayub are cutting him down and literally turning their backs on him. They like it in the small town of Bjärstad, why can't he be happy there too? Why is he betraying his roots?

Subtext: This comment from August nicely foreshadows a later episode when August does something traceable on a School computer...

Subtext: What August means is that he's not sure Wilhelm has the same desire to be accultured into the upper class, to play the part of a proper prince, in the same way that he and Erik have accepted their roles and are even enjoying them.

Culture: Although it's impossible to read the name of the medicine, the paper tag on the bottle indicates that it's some kind of prescription medicine. From the conversation with Vincent, we learn that it's some kind of ADHD medication, probably some kind of Dextroamphetamine since those improve athletic ability and cognitive functions in healthy people.

Culture: Birkenstock sandals are associated with hippies in Sweden as well as in many parts of the world, so August is actually saying that the school counselor isn't really part of the same upper-class society as the rest of the staff. And again, his use of the word sosse drives the point home.

Subtext: Consequently, the counselor sees right through August and refuses to immediately prescribe him the medication that he wants...

Subtext: ...even though August tries to both bribe him and threaten him into giving him the medication he wants.

Subtext: A big theme of this episode is class journeys, and in this scene and a previous exercise scene, August gushes about how good a thing that is, how proud he is of Simon for going on one, and spouts some crap about how everyone can make it if they really want to.

Subtext: Thankfully, Madison says what we're all thinking: August is full of shit, life isn't fair, and they're only at the school because they were born into privilege.

Blink and you miss it: After Wilhelm has nervously texted his crush for the first time, he starts to bite his fingernails, but quickly stops himself, because why would he be nervous? He's just texting another boy about rowing practice, there's nothing more to it!

Subtext: Simon's texting game is on point though, he knows exactly what he should write to get Wilhelm to go on a totally-not-a-date with him.

Subtext: In the same way that August couldn't convince the counselor about being sick, I don't think Wilhelm's atrocious acting here convinces August that he's sick either.

Culture: Public transport in the greater Stockholm area - or wherever we're supposed to be - is of course cash-less, and you pay by either charging a special card, or by signing up in their app and buying tickets through there. The point of this scene though is to drive home how Wilhelm has never ever had to take the bus before in his life, and therefore has no idea how it works.

Culture: The totally-not-a-date starts at a Circle K, which in Sweden is just another gas station, but it is actually a Canadian multi-national convenience store corporation. The price of gas is of course posted in kr/l, and 13.98kr/l corresponds to roughly $6/gal.

Subtext: Throughout the totally-not-a-date, Wilhelm is trying to reach for common ground with Simon, trying to show him how he's just a regular guy...

Subtext: ...but then real life intrudes, Wilhelm is recognized by some local girls, who call out to him and run away giggling, which shows how he's not a regular guy, he's going to get recognized wherever he goes.

Culture: Kokt eller grillat, boiled or grilled, are the two ways you can get your hot-dog at pretty much any hot-dog place in Sweden, and ketchup and mustard is always offered. The correct answer to this question is of course grilled, with ketchup and mustard, and this just shows that Wilhelm is a man of culture and good taste. Unfortunately, they were out grilled ones, so they all got boring soggy boiled hot-dogs instead. Is there a metaphor here? I don't know.

Subtext: Again, the show drives home the point that absolutely no-one has a problem with people being gay. Simon is clearly out to Ayub and the rest of his friends, and Ayub immediately picks up on the fact that this is totally a date.

Blink and you miss it: Ayub nudges Simon with his elbow to tell him that he should make a move on Wilhelm.

Culture: What we're looking at is just the local junior/high school football team, Bjärstad, playing a match against some other unnamed junior football team. Since the stakes are super low, the audience basically consists of whichever parents and friends of the players that could be bothered showing up.

Culture: Driving age is 18 in Sweden, and even then getting your own car at that age is extremely uncommon. However, you can easily get a license for a moped when you turn 15, so these are the vehicles of choice for teenagers to get around.

Subtext: August found out about Wilhelm's trip to town, but his main problem with it is that he wants Wilhelm to stop slumming it with lower class people, and to start hanging out with everyone at school instead, so that he can be properly accultured into the upper class. Again, sosse in this context means working class, not socialist.

Subtext: Although Simon felt really great about his first date with Wilhelm, the text message reminds him that Wilhelm isn't a regular person, and that even this innocent little trip generates interest and scrutiny, and can't be posted publicly.

Culture: As everyone should have noticed by now, Madison keeps speaking English, while everyone speaks to her in Swedish, so clearly she understands it. But here she gives her motivation for sticking to English, and that is that she doesn't feel she's good enough at speaking Swedish. Boarding schools like Hillerska attracts international students that have some kind of connection to the country, so a likely scenario is that Madison grew up in the US with a Swedish parent, and she's being sent here to experience Swedish culture and get immersed in the language to learn it better.

Cinematography: This shot of August drives really home all the pressure he is under, he's out of drugs, the headmistress just hinted that he's out of money, and he's literally being weighed down by books and work-out weights.

Subtext: Simon has kept his visits to Micke a secret from Sara, so here he has to intervene to make sure August doesn't accidentally reveal this to her. He also wants to protect his sister, so he's redirecting August's search for drugs onto himself.

Subtext: And on the flipside, Simon isn't really telling his dad that Sara still hates him and really doesn't want to see him, so he's vague when Micke asks about Sara and Linda.

Culture: Finally a bottle of medicine where we can read the label! Unfortunately for Simon, this is Tramadol, an opiate prescribed for pain relief, which is the complete opposite of the kind of drugs August wants.

Subtext: If you haven't figured out yet that this episode is about class journeys, August spells it out for us here. However, the reason he's "congratulating" Simon in front of everybody is because Simon just supplied him with more drugs, so this is his way of thanking him, since he can't really pay him.

Blink and you miss it: For a split second, Wilhelm grabs Simon's leg during the scary scene.

Subtext: The entire dialogue of the movie works as subtext for what's actually going on between Wilhelm and Simon at this point, and Wilhelm is getting a little freaked out by this sneaky display of affection.

Subtext: The movie also puts words on the implications of Wilhelm getting together with a boy, what about having kids in the future? Can you carry on your family name and traditions, or will they die with you?

Lost in translation: The plaque actually says "FEEL YOUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE HERITAGE". Even though the plaque means the heritage and legacy of the school itself, Wilhelm is thinking about his legacy, his heritage, and how getting together with Simon would threaten that.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm actually says "jag är inte en..." - "I'm not a..." before he stops himself. So it's not possible that he was trying to say "I'm not gay", because that doesn't work grammatically in Swedish either. He could be trying to say "I'm not a guy like that" or "I'm not a guy who likes guys", that would work.

Cinematography: The framing and silhouetting of this shot is just chef's kiss. The outline of their hair allows us to see who is who, and we can see from their poses that Simon is welcoming a kiss, while Wilhelm is still hesitating.

[warriorsbutnotreally]

February Types Of Love - Warrior Cats Challenge

for the month of February I want to do types of love and specifically draw some of my favorite Warrior Cats characters with it and I'm posting this to invite you all to do the same with the same prompts.

these specifically will be exploring different types of love, love tropes, etc. Some are meant to be platonic, some are meant to be for family, and some are just straight up romantic love.

I also just wanted an excuse to draw and if you're also looking for an excuse to draw [or write if you don't wanna draw/can't draw], here it is;

/

1. Self Love

an obvious one, to love one's self. can be for a character that already expresses self love or one you wish deserved to feel like, in the narrative, that they are worthy of loving themselves

2. Friendship

another easy one; your favorite friendship in the books, even if it's one where you have to really read between the lines

3. "Best Friends"

"and history will say they were best friends" even though all signs point to these cats being in love

bit of a play on how straight people try to rewrite gay history

4. Healing Together

can be romantic, platonic, etc. just two [or more] cats who went through hell and are leaning on each other for support as they recover [either physically, emotionally, or both]

5. Parent & Child

the love a parent has for their child is strong and this day is for celebrating your favorite parent with their child [or children]

6. Friends To Lovers

a sadly overlooked, but sweet trope, friends to lovers celebrates people who were already close becoming even closer, while still being the best of friends

7. Platonic

any non-romantic, non-familial love

8. Fake Love Turned True

or "we pretended to get married/date and we're now in love"

9. Soulmates

another classic trope where they're pieces of a missing whole brought together

10. Love Triangle / Three Way Love

and either/or situation; if you have a favorite love triangle, you can go with that one. if not, then you're free to choose a relationship that consists of specifically three characters

11. Siblings

when siblings have a strong bond, it's nearly impossible to break. this day is for celebrating those who are siblings by chance and best friends by choice

12. Familiar Love

can be platonic or familial, but it's a strong bond, kinship, and familiarity between people. non-romantic.

13. Polyamorous

love beyond the boundaries of monogamy

14. Childhood Best Friends

platonic or romantic, but a bond between those who grew up together for as long as either of them could remember

15. Shy Affection

a small touch, a simple look, a flustered smile - a love that makes you weak in the knees and can turn the brave meek

16. Rivals To Lovers

a competitiveness turns to a strange, yet powerful love

17. Selfless Love

a love for those around you that doesn't just stop at those close, but a care for the well-being of all.

18. The One That Got Away / One-Sided

another either-or; it could be a love that slipped away to someone else, or love that stays hidden as the other watches the center of their affection without letting them know how they feel

19. Forbidden Love

technically you can do a forbidden relationship for any of these, but this one is specifically for forbidden love

20. Star-Crossed

love that was meant to be - maybe even one that felt like destiny

21. Finding Love Again

after the pain of either being scorned, losing a loved one, or being burned by a flame too bright, this is for a character finding that they can find a second chance in love

22. Showering With Gifts

admittedly not my cup of tea, but some love languages can be spoken through sharing or giving to one's partner

23. "High School" Sweethearts

high school in quotes cause it's more of a mutual apprentice crush that turned into a relationship after the two got colder

24. Playful Love / "Puppy Love"

a soft and childish love filled with affection - a honeymoon phase that never ends because they fall in love each time they see each other

25. Soft Love

laying in silence, enjoying each other's company, little whispers but nothing too loud. cuddling together, letting the warmth of your partner[s] overtake you and just being happy they're there.

26. Adorned With Flowers

very specifically chosen for flower language. flowers that perfectly describe a relationship or, at least, the two characters in the relationship. flower crowns optional.

27. "Don't Go"

can be sad or bittersweet or even just someone needing to wake up to go on patrol, it's love in which when one party doesn't want to see the other one go

28. "I Adore You"

adoration of any kind - from a powerful love to a deep respect. no matter the type of feelings, it's devotion until the end.

///

if you follow along, feel free to tag me in the posts! I'd love to see what you do! All I ask is to respect my blacklist and not tag me in anything that's listed there.

also if you're doing it as well, you're free to choose between canon or OCs or even both

either way, I have some designs I need to get done before next month comes around so this blog may be a little quiet fdsakh

[speedbump-mannequin]

Putting this over here bc I know you guys aren't squicked...

Was tagged by @exquisiteagony and @dysphorie !! Ty!!!

20 writer questions

1: how many works do you have on ao3?

58 on my pseud 😎

2: what my total ao3 wordcount?

210,789. About half of them are phallic euphemisms.

3: how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Mostly Manson with a little Slipknugget and MIW, and a lot of crossovers.

4: what are my top five fics by kudos?

Choose, Pick, Sold, Protection, Chosen

5: do i respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes!!! Bc I appreciate every one. Also bc it bothers me to have an odd number of comments. 😂 But mostly bc they're amazing and I want to say thank you.

6: what’s the fic i’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Maybe Nexus? Or A Passing Glance. Or Earned. The ones where ppl die. 😂

7: what’s the fic i’ve written with the happiest ending?

Hmmmm I think the ending to Cancelled is really uplifting, bc you know they're winning. Or maybe Words, bc there's so much relief.

8: do i write crossovers? if so, what’s the craziest thing i’ve written?

Yes!!!! I love playing mix-and-match!!! Magic School Bus might be the weirdest one. Though I got more shame for the Jurassic Park one...

9: have i ever received hate on a fic?

Yeppers. Outside of my regular readers, who I love immensely, I mostly get a poor reception. 😂

10: do i write smut? if so, what kind?

I've never, in my entire life, written anything that isn't smut. I like both slash and mf. I prob write more slash, just bc I find the dynamics fun and gay sex is good.

11: have i ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

12: have i ever had a fic translated?

No. That would blow my mind.

13: have i ever co-write a fic?

Not really? I've worked with the amazing @90sdiablo, but idk if that's exactly co-writing. I don't do well on collabs, tbh. I put a lot of pressure on myself. I do like discussing ideas tho 😊

14: what’s my all time favourite ship?

Love Jimson (Jim Root/Marilyn Manson) and my OT3 is those 2 plus Peter Steele. Plus Jim is a werewolf and Peter is a vampire. 😌 Really, though, I don't get too attached to most ships. They're fun to play with. I don't take them too srsly.

15: what’s a wip i want to finish but don’t think i ever will?

I have this really old purgatory torture porn that I want to finish so much (he makes her eat her own toe and I re-read it occasionally just for that). Also a blood magic piece. But alas.

16: what’s my writing strengths?

My uncanny ability to turn literally anything into a horror movie or porno, esp if it involves 2+ unrelated things, and esp esp if one of those things is Manson. It's like lead to gold. Magic.

17: what’s my writing weakness?

Just getting started, doing the middle part, and ending it. Also, confidence.

18: what’s my thought on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I think it's hard to do well. It's a matter of using correct translations so you don't lose your multilingual readers, and still getting the meaning across for your monolingual readers. I think it works well in films, where you still have body language, tone, and context, but can be awkward when written. Respect to everyone who does it well.

19: what was the first fandom i wrote for?

Crossover between Labyrinth and an amateur de Sade homage I really liked as a kid. Of course, this was before I knew what fandom or fanfic was. I was just writing stuff. 🤷‍♀️

20: what’s my favourite fic i’ve written:

The one I posted most recently. I fall in love while I'm writing. Later, that fic becomes cringy and bad and I need another love.

I think my faves have been tagged? I might be wrong. My thinkmeat is soft. If you see this, I tag you!!!! 💚