#write badass emails

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 

[ifyoucandaniel]

favorite fics of 2024/basically just batfam fic rec list

It's that time of year guys, here is my favorite fics of 2024 in no specific order (aka my master batman fic rec list bc that's all i read this year with some spider-man thrown in there lmao). most of these have been in my previous rec lists, but this is just like one big frankenstein’s monster of a fic rec with all of them in one place <3

starting off strong, anything @bluelotuswrites's hands have touched is pure gold. Red is the Color of Sinners placed post UTRH where after being hit by bruce's batarang and now mute, jason decides to leave gotham and go to hell’s kitchen for a fresh start, but he keeps running into daredevil both in and out of costume. this is possibly the best jason of all time i rotate him in my mind like a microwave all day

The Hellblazer's Apprentice is an all blades jason fic where instead of continuing his lost days world tour, he meets john constentine and decides to learn magic to piss of bruce. blue added some lore to jason’s character in this that to this day makes my brain vibrate with excitement and the dynamic between john and jason is just ?? so good. both of these fics haunt me, they follow me wherever i go, i love them. read everything she's written, trust me

going with the theme of my favorite authors i read this year, @cdelphiki wrote my favorite read of the year and possibly all time Life Happens a fic that hit me like a sucker punch where tim and damian are both sent to a different dimension where everyone they know are comic book characters. with no other choice, they have to start a new life in this world while they wait for rescue. words just dont do it justice, please please read this fic. it’s the most beautiful story on growing and life

their other fic Jason and the Three Terrors crosses my mind at least once a day if not three times. jason is still with the league when talia charges him with getting damian, his cousin mara, and his secret sister athanasia to bruce safely from ra's. the rest of the fic is jason going from "i cant wait to get rid of these kids" to "these are my kids, i need to provide for them and keep them safe and i would die for them" 100/10 jason's character development is some of my favorite in any fic.

The Time Before is another of my favorites where jason is sent back in time to when he was 9 and goes to bruce for help and realizes maybe his memories of bruce maybe aren't all accurate. just read everything cdelphiki has ever written, trust me <3

Split by @wolfsbanesparks i have never been hooked on a character i previously did not know much about faster than when i read this fic. Billy and shazam are forcefully separated into separate bodies by black adam and then they have to try to keep billy's identity secret somehow while working with the justice league to fix them. the end of this fic had me sending paragraphs and 5 minute voice notes to my friends, trying to explain why i was so absolutely distraught and obsessed.

also by wolfsbanesparks, From the Shadows is basically everything you could ever want from a billy batson joins the batfam fic. it's got plot, it's got identity shenanigans, it's got badass magical billy, what more could you possibly need! seriously idk what is up with everything wolfbanesparks writes, but the endings are always so fucking good, 100/10.

Something in the Static by @bonerot19 is one of my favorite jason series ever, i go back to it constantly and think about it all the time. this is a series where jason's mom doesn't die and his dad isn't in prison, instead he's 17 working nights at a convenience store when everything changes and suddenly batman won't leave him alone. this is my favorite jason & steph best friends fic ever and the way this fic is paced scratches an itch in my brain, the flow of the story is just perfect

Buy Back the Secrets by @vinelark is the only ship fic on here and it deserves a place of honor. every time i get an email that it's updated an angel gets it's wings and my friends all get texts in all caps. Timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but tim keeps calling for superboy when he's in trouble which leads to kon meeting him as a civilian. the identity shenanigans are just so top tier, its a 5 + 1 fic so every chapter is just just a new world of fun tropes. the chapter with tim's fake uncle and jason is actually probably my favorite chapter of a fic ever its so dear to me. as far as i'm concerned, this fic is the only timkon ever <3

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O is the shortest fic on this list and is the most important jason & dick post UTRH fics i've ever read. this fic both scratched an itch and created an itch because i need 100 more chapters and for it to never end. set post UTRH when dick starts to rethink his opinion on a note jason left him and realizes it was jason reaching out and decides to find him and fix things. this goes up there with RITCOS in the post UTRH fics where jason decides to just fuck off and do his own thing, i love them

Adopting a New Plan by A_Silly_Gander is yet another fic where jason winds up with an adoption problem when he first comes back to gotham. however, my favorite part of this whole fic is how the author writes jason making mistakes and being flawed and how those mistakes affect him. absolutely 10/10 character development and jason rejoining the batfam + damian and jaosn meeting in the LOA tag is just a mixture of all my favorite things, i love this fic so much

A Collision of Masks by MOVAZ is my favorite dick grayson fic ever, its set in a young justice AU where batman never joined the JL and YJ never met dick, so when the YJ team is sent to investigate a new vigilante, nightwing, identity shenanigans ensue. this is seriously such a fun fic, i loved all the crossover between dick's many identities and the YJ team

Cards on the Table by @wesslan is just!!! so fun oh my god. the chapter titles are to this day my favorite things ever they enhance the experience. it’s about tim being a scam fortune teller who knows a lot more than he should about the upper class due to his nighttime stalking. he winds up meeting the batfam and giving some scarily accurate advice which leads to him being tied up in their business and lots of lying <3 it’s such a fun fic and i just love the vibes 100/10

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by @a-large-orange-cat is by far my favorite fucked up tim fic! while tim’s out taking pictures of batman and robin as a kid he gets kidnapped by black mask and raised to take over his crime empire. cue 50k of manipulation and angst, the ending is so satisfying and the sequel with jason always makes me :’) very good, this tim lives in my mind in a little house he and jason built

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone because would it be a fic rec without the loml? i love this fic so much oh my god, it sent me back on my spiderman obsessed bullshit which in turn led me back down my marvel bs. post infinity war peter is dusted and wakes up in the DC universe with the ghosts of the dusted avengers following him. i love this fic so much, nothing compares to this peter in my mind. the dynamic between him and the batfam + the identity angst is just so well done

keeping up with the peter theme, The Teenage Vigilante's Guide to Saving New York (And Making Friends Along the Way) by candlesneedflame is such a good team red/mentor matt fic oh my god. where peter goes against tony’s wishes and starts hanging out with daredevil and his friends and maybe starts getting mentored by new york’s vigilantes. 10/10 i love peter interacting with the other vigilantes and also matt mentoring him

anyways, that’s all folks! 2024 was the year for the DC and marvel fics clearly and hopefully 2025 will be the year of me binding all of these finally and having them sitting pretty on my shelf <3

[luveline]

BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣

—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k

You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 

You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 

Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 

Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 

So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 

“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 

“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 

He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 

Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look unhappy.” 

It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 

“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 

Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 

Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 

Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 

“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 

“No.”

“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 

You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 

“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 

“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.

“You like him, he likes you.” 

That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.

“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.

“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 

“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 

You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 

“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 

You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 

“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 

Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 

He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 

“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 

“Sure.” 

“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 

You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 

“Who says I need that?” 

“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 

You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 

Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 

“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.

It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 

“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 

If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 

He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 

“I don’t.” 

“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 

You touch his waist. “Not me.” 

[kxsagi]

hiiii, can u do the bluelock guys and fem reader who has to leave 4 the marines? i would like to highlight aiku and ness in this scenario. If u ever do u end up doing it, thanks.

“𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬”

a/n: yesss i gotchu girl, thank you for your patience!

ft. ness alexis, aiku oliver, kaiser michael, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, and barou shoei

ness alexis

sobbing. immediately. 

“are you… are you going to get blown up? 🥺” 

he cries in your arms the night before you leave. he refuses to let go. 

wraps your favorite scarf around your neck and tucks a photo of the two of you into your bag. 

sends you a good morning and good night message every single day without fail, and gets pouty if you miss a reply. 

tells everyone in blue lock you’re in the marines and treats you like an international spy. 

keeps saying, “i’m dating a warrior queen. i’m basically a prince.” 

sends you letters scented with his cologne. adds sparkly stickers and a lipstick print of your old lip balm “for luck.” 

aiku oliver

acts like he’s supportive… but cries in the car after dropping you off. 

“go live your dream, babe,” he says while gripping your suitcase like it wronged him. 

texts you things like “what if you get recruited into a secret underwater government branch and fall for an octopus man?” 

he is now weirdly obsessed with military documentaries and googles “how to be a respectful marine husband.” 

starts hitting the gym twice as hard because “if my girl’s gonna come back with biceps, i gotta be ready.” 

owns three keychains with your face on them. one is on his car keys. one is on his toothbrush. one is mysteriously in his wallet behind his ID. 

kaiser michael

pretends he’s unfazed: “it’s whatever. do what you want.” 

but the second you turn away, he’s pacing. muttering. spiraling. 

“why would you go there? are there no hobbies on land?” 

mails you custom dog tags that say “property of michael fucking kaiser.” 

makes jokes like, “if you cheat on me with a navy seal, i will become a pirate.” 

becomes overdramatic with everything. texts you “hope your missiles are doing better than i am.” 

asks you for a photo every day. he has an album titled “my girl, my general.” 

mikage reo

90% proud, 10% devastated. 

he wants to fund you. “can i buy you a submarine? a private aircraft carrier?” 

throws a dramatic “send-off party” with a banner that says “SEXY MILITARY BADDIE DEPLOYMENT CELEBRATION.” 

teaches himself morse code because “it’s romantic, babe. this is wartime love.” 

jokes about becoming your sugar daddy while you’re out being a badass. 

puts your enlistment photo in a gold frame on his desk and flexes it on zoom calls. 

buys himself a plush shark and names it after you. sleeps with it every night. 

nagi seishiro

“you’re joining the what now?” 

initially confused, then lazy sad. like... "ugh now i have to miss you a lot?” 

becomes weirdly clingy and burritos you in a blanket to stop you from going. 

keeps voice memos of your laugh and replays them while gaming. 

changes his gamer tag to “marinewifesei” (you didn’t even marry him???) 

mopes during deployment like a cat left alone for three days. 

“come back soon. the bed’s cold. and i miss your shampoo.” 

isagi yoichi

the proudest boyfriend. 

“you’re incredible. you’re strong. you’re brave. i believe in you.” (also nearly cries in the bathroom.) 

spends hours writing the perfect goodbye letter that he hands you awkwardly like it’s a confession. 

sends you updates on every single match. “this goal’s for you.” 

trains even harder while you’re away so you’ll be proud of him, too. 

tracks your deployment schedule and counts down the days like a kid waiting for christmas. 

has a marine keychain he kisses before every game. 

itoshi rin

quiet. stiff. brooding. 

doesn’t say “don’t go” because he respects you. but his grip on your hand tightens when you board that bus. 

writes long emails he never sends. 

visits your family more than you asked him to. brings them groceries and checks in regularly. 

watches the news obsessively and googles your base weather forecast daily. 

lowkey wears your hair tie on his wrist like it’s armor. 

when you come back, he hugs you so tight, it’s like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve. “don’t leave again,” he mutters into your shoulder. 

shidou ryusei

“oh hell yeah, my girlfriend’s gonna be a certified badass killing machine??” 

starts referring to you as “the missile mistress.” 

wants to fight you. not romantically. he wants a sparring match. 

immediately creates a playlist titled “music for when my gf’s out destroying nations.” 

misses you terribly but won’t admit it unless someone catches him watching your tik toks with a pout. 

writes you unhinged letters like “day 36 without your thighs around my head. morale is low.” 

plans to greet you at the airport with a “WELCOME BACK WAR CRIMINAL 💖” sign. 

itoshi sae

does not outwardly react. at all. 

“hm. you sure?” 

deep down, his brain is doing backflips. he doesn’t like the idea of you being so far, in danger, unreachable. 

he respects your choice, but becomes more protective. 

your last night before deployment, he holds you tighter than ever. doesn’t sleep. watches you breathe. 

he emails you little things – photos of his coffee, dumb things rin said, a new project he’s working on. 

doesn’t say “i miss you.” just: “come home safe.” 

barou shoei

furious. not at you, just at the world for taking you. 

“why the hell do you have to go fight in a warzone? don’t they have dudes for that?” 

buys gym equipment so he can get stronger “just in case you need backup.” 

meal preps and freezes food for your return like a very angry housewife. 

carves your initials into his gym bag like he’s in a shonen anime arc. 

sends you intense letters like “if you don’t come back alive i’ll resurrect you and kill you again myself.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #7

Genesis: SEPHIROTH, STOP MEOWING AT ME.

Kunsel: Any loser twink can be a fem-boy, but it takes a real badass to be a fem-man.

Sephiroth: Did I "yee-haw" with joy, or did it convey depression?

Zack, holding up Cloud: BEHOLD.

Sephiroth, stealing a fry from Angeal's plate: A most generous offering. You will be spared. Angeal: FROM? Sephiroth: You will be spared.

Genesis, wearing sunglasses and holding a cappuccino: So there I was, gelato on my breasts—

Cloud: Aww, that's such a cute Halloween decoration. *pointing at Genesis sobbing in the corner*

Angeal: Who put a hotdog in the candy bowl?? Zack, in the background: Halloweenie.

Sephiroth: I could've sworn "motherfucker" was a compliment.

Angeal: IF YOU EAT THAT WEEK-OLD SUSHI PLATTER, YOUR INTESTINES WILL BECOME RADIOACTIVE.

Sephiroth: Zack, can I enjoy this steak dinner without you explaining A/B/O to me?

Lazard: I think we ALL need to beat our fathers with shovels, Sephiroth, you're not special.

Zack: NO! THAT'S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BANANA!

Genesis: He manspreads to assert dominance, I manspread to create a barrier between myself and heteronormativity. We are not the same.

Sephiroth: I just sent Angeal an email describing my feelings for him. If he doesn't reply, I'll show up at his apartment and superglue myself to the door.

Zack: Give me a pen, paper, and three Adderall, and I'll write something better than Loveless in one hour.

Kunsel: Everyone is subjected to failure, but at least I'm not Roche, who thought the plural of ninja was ninji.

Sephiroth: I have exactly three crayons on my person right now, and they're all stolen from Zack.

Angeal, chewing with his mouth full: Don't make psycho-sexual comments in front of my cheeseburger.

Zack, narrating what he's seeing: 🎶 Look at Angeal 🎶 beating Sephiroth with a frozen chicken because he forgot to take it out the freezer. 🎶

Sephiroth: Please refrain from analyzing my deep-seated fear of abandonment linked to my mother's absence and its impact on my emotional regulation, it's seven in the morning and I still haven't had coffee.

Cloud: I'm about two mental breakdowns away from resorting to gang affiliation.

Genesis: COUNTER SPELL! *flicks his wrist* TRAUMA!

Roche: I often have nightmares about Sephiroth attacking me with a spork.

Sephiroth, in the presence of a spider: I feel anti-at peace.

Zack: Dear diary, today I committed tax evasion, and felt great. Tomorrow I'll try embezzlement and eventually vandalism!

Sephiroth: Can you read this death threat note and check if my handwriting is recognizable?

Zack and Genesis: *Loudly arguing over who gets to be the ring bearer at Sephiroth and Angeal's wedding*

Angeal, laying on the floor: Good luck trying to find my will to live, gang.

Genesis: I'm flashing you a tit to maintain our friendship.

Sephiroth: If I had a gil for every time someone compared me to a cat, I'd have enough to purchase that expensive human cat bed that has been on my wishlist for ages.

Roche: Is my discount wig a joke to you, Zackary?

Cloud, placing an "I miss you" letter from his mother in Sephiroth's line of view: Yeah, that's right. Fuck you.

Lazard: Someone pinned a death threat on my office door written in glitter gel pen.

Genesis, flirting: I own an air-fryer.

Angeal: T-shirt that says "I survived Zack's power point presentation on aliens that included a photo of Sephiroth on the fourth slide"

Roche: Cloud Strife's evil twin…Grass Peace.

Sephiroth: *Showing Zack pictures of baby cows while Zack sobs into his burger*

Genesis: PUT. MASAMUNE. DOWN. No one is stealing your crayons.

Sephiroth: Genesis, I feel inspired to compliment your ass.

Lazard: Take a good, hard look at Sephiroth wearing flip-flops and tell me I shouldn't be stressed.

Sephiroth: A most efficient weapon to add to my arsenal *wielding an entire streetlamp*

Zack, talking to Angeal: My insecure trooper and faceless info guy, versus your 6'7 cat and walking red flag.

Kunsel: Is the cure to male loneliness *incomprehensible screeching* ?

[rottingrat-jpg]

Enlighter x LinLing idea

LinLing to make ads for smaller heroes too, not just nice and moon like we see now, when he was starting he would almost exclusively do the lower rated heroes promos

These promos were some of his best work(looking at the fact that he had a zero dollar budget and a dream) he was full of passion just like he is now but back then his ideas were not looked at as strictly as the heroes just wanted an add

He gets an email from Enlighters hero agency about possibly working together to promote their upcoming hero, he of course agrees as he want that sweet sweet bonus at the end of the month

LinLing writes a script not really looking at who the hero is... because he wrote everything at 3 am and didn't read think anything through(he was hit with a creative flow can you blame him?) he had an idea and he wrote it

his idea is very much painting Enlighter as a cool guy who can throw an awesome punch to impress a girl or two, its almost completely the opposite of what Enlighter actually is

He sends the script over and goes to sleep

>>>><<<<

Enlighter received the script at 3 am, he didn't understand why his manager decided to send it over to him at such an ungodly time, whatever he will read it in the morning

He goes to sleep but ends up very much sleep deprived due to the interruption in his sleep

When he looks at the script he looks more shocked than words could explain, because what is this??? he's written like he's- like he's some grand hero- like he can actually go something other than ruining another person's image

The more he reads the more he asks himself about how the awkward photo that was sent with the email invoked the emotions to write... that.

He finishes reading it and stares at the wall for 20 minutes

Did he really look this badass?

his face felt like it went up in flames from how much the blush burned his delicate face, he was almost giggling like a little kid reading about his favorite hero in a comic

>>>>><<<<<

In the end when LinLing realizes how the guy he wrote that cool badass script for was actually a lanky awkward guy that was like 5 years older than him and his only power was truth detection

he felt embarrassed enough that he blocked the entire company and didn't even acknowledge them to his boss

>>>>><<<<<

After Enlighter learns that LinLing had ghosted them he develops a grudge that follows him all the way until he fights the man that one time

however the grudge is almost immediately gone when he sees the handsome man walk towards him fuming(the punches were great too)

he cringed to himself but nobody needed to know that

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[3] Career Fair

Summary: James holds a parents' career fair, to which Liam's mom is invited.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!reader, mom!reader x son!OC (Liam), inspired by this post by @ravishinglavishingluvr. Hah, remember last time where I said I was updating semi-regularly? Ok well I actually mean it now, I promise lmao. Not edited but I'll do that tomorrow. Also kinda short, sorry

A/N (1/8/2024): okok I came back here to change the names of some kids bc I forgot that this is a marauders au so I can use the names of like real kids from harry potter smhhhhh please don't get mad at me this is my first time writing an au

Previous Part: Seeing Each Other Around Town Next Part: Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift Series Masterlist here

James ended up pushing the career fair back a couple weeks because there was a conflict in the schedule

(not because you emailed him back saying you wouldn’t be able to come the day he had originally planned it)

(and definitely not because he asked you to send him your shift schedule so he could make sure you could come, and you were working overtime for two weeks straight)

(James was pretty sure your work schedule violated some labor laws or something, but he was in no place to question you)

Liam is soooo excited for the couple days leading up to the career fair

Because his mom is cool af and he can’t wait to show everybody just how badass you are

(You had Liam pretty young, so you’re totally the parent who all the kids think is the coolest person alive and who all the kids’ older siblings have crushes on and who all the kids’ parents judge because of your age and assume you’re irresponsible, but we don’t have to talk about that)

James is also excited because he hasn’t had a real conversation with you in a couple weeks and he really just wants to talk to you

Poor Sirius and Remus have had to deal with him swooning and fawning and over you and also helping him frantically prepare for this career fair because “guys it HAS to be perfect”

But at long last, the day finally arrives

James scheduled the career fair in the afternoon so he could threaten children with canceling the event if they misbehave, so both he and his kids are bouncing off the walls in excitement all morning

He eats lunch in the library with Remus and Sirius, and they both spend the entire time hyping him up

(It’s mostly Sirius tho)

“You’ve got this, Prongs—be smooth—be nice—you’re a nice bloke, that’s not gonna be a problem for you—”

And eventually, it’s time

The parents that are participating in the fair arrive ten minutes before James has to get the kids from the cafeteria so he can explain to them what’s going to happen (because god knows the majority didn’t read the goddamn email he sent)

You’re a little late (profusely apologizing again, and it reminds James of the first time you met back at parent-teacher conferences) but you read the email the night before (and take another piece of James’ heart hostage while you’re at it) so it’s no worries

James’ summary instructions take a shorter amount of time than expected, so the ten or so parents all get to talking

And ofc James takes this opportunity to talk to you

You’d emailed back and forth about the fair but you hadn’t really talked in person since that night in the grocery store, and James was starting to feel like he’d die if he went another day without talking to you

So he’s plotting his route to you across the classroom when he notices you’ve secluded yourself a few steps away from the majority of the parents’ conversation

James is also horrified to discover you look slightly uncomfortable

Like you’re somewhere you don’t belong

And of course James can’t have that

So he sidles up next to you and asks how your day is going, if your boss gave you a hard time getting off work early, how the chocolate chip cookie dough from a month and a half ago was—anything he can think of, really

By the time James has to go get the kids from the cafeteria, you’re smiling and laughing, and James desperately wants to keep you like that all the time

He shakes himself out of his daydreamy state on the way to the cafeteria because this is your JOB, James, you can’t be distracted by your favorite student’s mom. His sweet, kind, whip-smart, dazzling … mom …

(In the back of his mind, James knows he’s screwed, he just has no idea what to do about it)

(CERTAINLY not act on it, because that would be a complete conflict of interest and totally unprofessional of him)

(But it’s just a crush)

(It’s fine)

(Right?)

ANYWAY

Liam’s on the lookout for you as soon as he steps through the door, and he beams the sweetest little chubby-cheeked smile when he finds you and points you out to his friends

You wink playfully at him, and he and his friends giggle excitedly as they sit in their seats

If James is being completely honest with himself, the career fair was a little disappointing

The majority of the parents’ presentations were kinda lame

And they didn’t make their jobs understandable or appealing for the kids

Dean's mom (she’s regional manager of a popular grocery store chain) complained to the class about her boss pretty much the whole time

Luna’s father, a rather eccentric professor at the local university, just spewed a bunch of nonsense technical jargon about the soul or the meaning of life or something that not even the adults in the room could understand

And Draco's dad (he owns the local insurance company and is just obscenely wealthy, which explains quite a bit of his son's attitude) straight up said he hated his job, so there’s that

But then there was your presentation

James is sure he’s in love by now because you made being a nurse sound so amazing

You talked about how you’re in charge of taking care of people when they’re sick or hurt, how it’s nice to be able to help people, how even when your job gets hard, you feel like you’ve made a positive impact at the end of the day

Once the parents left, James asked the kids who’s presentation they liked the most

And ofc every kid in that room agreed that yours was the best

And a solid 75% said they wanted to be a nurse lmao and he was just so proud

Proud of his kids and also you because your presentation was just so fucking good

As James is taking the kids out to the buses, Liam thanks him for inviting you to the career fair

Ofc James says it was no problem and that you’re really cool, so it was a pleasure to have you there

And Liam kinda gives James this … look … and is like “… yeah, my mom is cool …”

And James gets this horrible feeling that Liam somehow knows

Knows he’s completely smitten for Liam’s mom

Fallen head over heels

Practically in love at this point (though James has a nasty habit of throwing that word around willy-nilly)

(Liam kinda freaks James out a bit sometimes lmao)

Next Part: Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift

[obsessedwitheverything05]

The second part of my Ghostwalker fic! I just love writing them :)

(p.s. the song they're listening to is "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King... at least in my head it is)

Comfortable Silence

The first thing John noticed was the silence. The floor, which they deemed the communal space, was always buzzing with noise. Alexei's awful Russian music, Yelena's sitcoms that no one ever watched but played regardless, the clanking of pots and pans in the kitchen as someone prepared a meal, or Bucky aggressively typing on his computer (he was always on that damn computer, yet no one had a clue what he was doing. they theorized he was working on one singular email and it just took him forever to type). But as the elevator slid closed, not a sound greeted him. He made his way to the kitchen, casting wary glances as if one of his teammates were going to spontaneously appear in front of him. On the kitchen island, he found a note scrawled in Yelena's messy handwriting: 

Bob and I gone for the weekend. Alexei doing taxi things. Bucky at Sam's? Don't burn the place down. 

He replaced the note on the counter. If they were all gone, that meant it was just him and-

Ava. 

As soon as the recognition hit, Ava stepped wordlessly out of the elevator, like his thoughts had somehow summoned her. She looked around, seemingly confused as he was at the quiet enveloping the tower. It was a moment before she spotted him standing alone in the kitchen.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, "It's so quiet in here. It's weird."

"They're all... out, I guess. Yelena and Bob are gone for the weekend, Alexei is at the taxi convention he wouldn't stop talking about, and I guess Bucky's with Sam." He slid the note across the counter to her. She glanced at it, brow furrowed.

"We have the tower to ourselves, I guess," John said, unable to meet Ava's eyes. He waited for her to drop a sarcastic comment, but she didn't. Instead, she asked:

"What happened to the flowers?"

"What?"

"The flowers that were on the counter. Where did they go?"

"I- uh, threw them away. They had all wilted anyway."

"Oh."

John finally glanced up at Ava. She was twisting her hands together almost like she was... nervous? She was nervous? Was he making her nervous? Before he had time to spiral down that rabbit hole, Ava spoke.

"I liked the flowers. They were... pretty but... badass." Their eyes met, and she gave him a lopsided smile. His brain stopped functioning. Her smile widened as she noticed the flush creeping into his face. 

"Well, got to take advantage of having the tower all to ourselves. I guess I'll see you around, Walker." Ava shrugged as she turned and phased out of the room. 

John was frozen in place, brain sputtering like a faulty engine. The flowers. She had noticed the flowers. She liked the flowers. And she knew the flowers were from him. How could she not? Yelena had given him so much shit about him buying flowers for the tower that the whole city of New York probably knew at this point. But that didn't matter. Ava had seen the flowers from him and said she liked them. She even seemed sad that they were gone. John knew what he had to do. No matter how much shit Yelena gave him, it was worth it. Ava liked his flowers. 

Later, with a fresh bouquet sitting in a vase on the counter, John was having a crisis over dinner. He had gotten enough food for the both of them, but couldn't bring himself to go ask Ava to join him for dinner. It would be too date-y, just the two of them. Wouldn't it be? Or was it normal? Just two teammates eating together because no one else was home? He had no clue. 

Finally, after a couple of glasses of whiskey, John decided to go ask. It was the nice thing to do since he was cooking anyway. Totally normal to offer food to a friend. He stepped into the elevator and punched the button for Ava's floor. Bob had made a color-coded map of the entire tower, so there was no confusion. Not that he needed the help. He knew her floor well, not that he would ever admit it. The elevator arrived at her floor too quickly. He stepped cautiously into the hallway. He was starting to regret his choice. He was being too forward. It was weird, barging into her space. He could've just texted her like a normal person. He was about to turn and make his escape when Ava peeked her head out of the doorway of what he assumed was her room. 

"Hello? Can I help you?"

John swallowed hard. He was trapped now. There was no other reason he could claim he was on her floor. 

"I- uh- was wondering... if you wanted to join me for dinner? I mean, not join me but,  I'm already cooking and there's enough for the both of us, so I just thought I could offer- but it's totally fine if you don't want to, I don't care, I just didn't want it to go to waste..."

He trailed off, silently cursing himself for babbling like an idiot. For the second time that day, Ava smiled at him. 

"Sure, sounds good. I don't have any plans. I'll join you in the kitchen in a minute?"

"Oh yeah, sure, take your time! I'll head back up there. It shouldn't take long." He awkwardly turned and stepped into the elevator, very intently pressing the button for the top floor so he didn't have to look at her again. He quickly got to work preparing the food. He had gotten the stuff to make a simple pasta dish—nothing fancy, but something everyone liked.

He enjoyed cooking. It kept his mind and his hands busy and helped him relax. He had unofficially taken the role of the team chef. No one else could cook as well as him. He was deep in the zone, humming along to the music he had put on, whisking away at the sauce when he glanced up to find Ava standing quietly, watching him. 

"Jesus Christ! How long have you been standing there? And how are you so quiet?" he yelped. She had managed to scare the shit out of him yet again.

"I just got here," Ava said, smoothly hopping onto a barstool. "And you do remember I'm called ghost for a reason, right? Creeping up on people is my specialty."

"Well, it freaks me out. I don't like being jump scared." 

She rolled her eyes at that. 

"Whatcha making us, Walker?" Her tone was light and teasing, but he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes lit up when she noticed the new vase of flowers sitting on the edge of the counter.

"Just some pasta alla vodka. Nothing fancy," he said, trying hard to keep his face neutral while he internally did cartwheels at her reaction to his flowers. 

"It smells good." She phased through to the other side of the counter, coming to stand beside him to get a better look at the dish. Her arm lightly brushed against his, and she didn't move it away. He tried to ignore how the faint touch felt like being struck by lightning or how she smelled like coconut and clean sheets. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it too. Then the moment was gone. She stepped away to grab plates from the cabinet and pour herself a glass of wine. 

They ate together in comfortable silence, side by side at the kitchen counter. The only sound came from the clinking of forks and the quiet music still playing from John's phone. They were done far too quickly. Ava offered to do the dishes since he had cooked, despite his repeatedly saying he didn't mind doing them. She was too stubborn to accept his offer, but let him dry and put the dishes away. They continued to work in silence until Ava suddenly froze. 

"You okay?" John asked, worried something was wrong."

Instead of answering, she phased over to his phone, grabbed it, then phased back, brandishing it at him like a weapon.

"Can you turn it up?"

"What?" He felt vaguely threatened.

"Turn the volume up? I love this song." She handed him the phone. He obliged, turning the volume up and starting the song over. She beamed at him. 

"I love this song."

"So you've said." 

She rolled her eyes at him with no real annoyance. She closed her eyes, swaying to the music, a genuine smile lighting up her face. He had never seen anyone so beautiful. He didn't know what came over him, but in a moment of confidence (or blatant stupidity), he reached out and took her hand. Her eyes snapped open in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she pulled him closer and used their interlocked hands to spin herself around. His other hand found her waist. They swayed slowly around the kitchen, spinning and dipping. 

John couldn't remember the last time he danced with anyone, but here he was, dancing in the kitchen with Ava Starr, of all people. It was perfect. She was smiling ear to ear, eyes closed, mouthing along to the words. He wished he could stay in this moment forever. Bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, dancing around the kitchen with the most beautiful girl in the world in his arms.

[dreamlifebunny]

bunny's ✨digital detox✨ + manifestation challenge!

hi friends! i've decided to do a little "dopamine detox" so that i can become more present in my day-to-day, connect with myself and my passions, and apply the law. instead of leaving you without any posts, i thought i would turn this short absence of mine into a challenge so that you can join me if you're interested! this is going to be a very simple challenge that mostly focuses on regaining joy in your life, but i hope it can bring you inspiration and peace.

purpose of challenge: to help your brain enjoy simple things again and fill your life with more joy, to get off of social media and apply the law, and to manifest anything you desire. as you can see, this is mostly a challenge to reconnect with ourselves and what brings us joy, but manifestation is the added bonus of this challenge!

step one:

delete or hide apps on your phone or laptop that involve mindless stimulation. for me, this includes tumblr, social media, checking things that give me notifications like my email, etc. normally, tumblr wouldn't be included in this because i use it for learning about the law, but part of this challenge is about getting offline and actually applying the law, so for now i will be deleting it.

step two:

make a list of activities that bring you joy that don't involve mindless stimulation. here are some ideas of things that i like to do if you're having trouble coming up with your own list:

scripting my dream life and coming up with cute scenarios in my head

writing a letter to a friend and decorating it with my own art or stickers

reading a fiction book and getting lost in the story

reading a non-fiction book to learn things about my passions and interests

singing and playing instruments

journaling or filling out writing prompts

going for bike rides or long walks with music

playing fun video games, but not for hours on end like i normally would heh

step three:

decide what you are going to manifest and choose your favourite methods to fulfill yourself! remember, this challenge is about connecting with yourself and what you love, so pick the methods that make you smile. i really enjoy daydreaming about my desires and feeling every emotion in my body that comes up and knowing that my desire is real.

REMEMBER: this challenge is primarily about doing a digital detox to give our brains more happiness. the main goal isn't to manifest, but it is SO much easier to manifest when our brains aren't constantly stimulated and consuming information. our desires manifesting is an added bonus for this challenge!

step four:

as you engage with your life and connect with awareness (who you are at your core) and as you enjoy activities that bring you joy, remind yourself in whatever way feels best to you that you have all of your desires, and that this extra space you're giving your brain is allowing more space for your lovely desires to show up in your life

step five:

report back during the end of any three-day period from when you start this challenge with your results! results could include how you feel, what you learned about yourself, what you manifested or realized about your manifestation, how your days looked without constantly stimulation, or anything you wish to share!

important note:

detoxing from constant stimulation is a HARD THING TO DO! they design apps to make us addicted, and your need for constant stimulation is not your fault. if at any point this challenge brings up feelings of shame or struggle due to the addiction of constant stimulation, make sure you are compassionate and loving to yourself; you're doing a wonderful thing as a gift to yourself and are a good person who is doing something very tricky, and you should be proud that you are even giving it a try. you are strong and badass and deserve the world and all of your desires! if at any point you need to dip out of this challenge, make sure to pat yourself on the back and thank yourself for trying it and know that you can always do it again in the future if you want to c:

love you friends! i am so excited to see the results of this challenge. i am proud of you, i am inspired by you, and i can't wait to see you all soon! 🥰

lots of love, bunny 💕

[positivelyruined]

*sticks head up out of a pothole portal from Andalusia to the real world*…Salutations from this industrious writer, but lackadaisical publisher. Brrr — it’s winter, now? I thought I just left Narnia for Spring.

I may have forgotten that the majority of the audience hasn’t read all of this — oops. Welcome back to Prythian. An all new chapter of A Ballad of Thorns and Roses has been posted. Happy Tuesday!

Chapter Eight | Word Count: 5.3k

Author’s note & updates: Small updates (mostly grammar and sentence structure) are being made to earlier chapters. A tag update has been completed. This work has been taken off of registered users only for easier access. I had 5-7 people ask for a link which I could no longer provide and ultimately, fanfic is for sharing. AI may be worrying, but art is for celebrating what we love.

There is a poll under the tag list if you are interested in giving me some feedback.

links: here | subscribe to the story to receive email notifications for updates and subscribe to my user for notification of all my writing

As always, big thank you to @farintonorth & @honoroverpleasure 👏👏 Extra shoutout to @shadowqueenjude for just generally having my back and being the enthusiastic, badass younger sister I never got.

Tag List under the cut:

As always, this list continues to change and develop through fandom dynamics and URL changes. I do my best to keep it as updated as possible. If you change your url and desire to be returned to the list, DM to be added and DM to be removed. I will never be offended if you ask to be taken off.

dearest, gentle readers

@goforth-ladymidnight @ceridvven @darah-g @golden-shani @ontheline840 @hiddenmidnightshadows @fleetfairy @supremedolphinoverlord @papaj--p4l @siriusement @mia-nina-lilly @szalonykasztan00 @rin-u-pos @alegomz @kateprincessofbluewhales @generouslawyereggsstudent @prettyawordthatstuck @lilyslittlewife @isabiss @draconicfaenerd @alizangc @hrizantemy @fourteentrout @camreadsum @yoddhasblog @wingsdippedingold @skyesayshibitchez @ladydelena @leanderp @jungliet-capuleet @matrixsss @samsaj-05 @theknittingoracle @not-so-civil @ghhjjjhgyhbjjb @multifandom-reader @iamtiredcanyouhelpme @ladysnowmanofnoir @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @yourwolfprince @toast-com @novaricewrites @skullszeyes @applepancake @kookiekissez @tilseptemberends

[sophisticated-dorkk]

I Got Catfished — Fuck it, am still rooting for Magic tho…

i didn’t expect it to happen to me

but it did and am not ashamed

they slid in online… said they were a badass military mom, posted up on some far-off peacekeeping mission… strong, caring, protective… with a sweet 10-year-old daughter they adored

said they lost their parents in a tragic plane crash when they were like 10 years old

grew up in an orphanage… no family… only resilience

built themselves into someone strong their parents would’ve been super proud of

and you know what… that kind of story?

it hits a part of me that wants to believe in people like that

because i admire survivors… especially badass women who turn pain into power

red flags? oh, plenty af

like their grammar had me flinching like i’d stepped on legos

funny — they said they were a staff sergeant with 23 years of service, writing daily reports but every other message barely made sense at times

like hey am no grammar cop (self-proclaimed queen of typos, thank you very much) but even i was like… wait a damn minute

still, i gave them grace

cause real life is pretty messy

cause connection matters you know

until the red flags turned into like a whole damn parade...

maybe part of the reason i cared so deeply even when i sensed something was off — is cause yearssss ago (in another lifetime) i loved someone deployed in a war zone

they were the real deal

like i remember praying pretty much every night, hoping they’d make it back from patrols

there were close calls… people they knew didn’t come home

and that type of experience kinda leaves an imprint you know

so when this scammer started talking about missions, patrols, near-death calls… it reopened old memories

like the caring wasn’t fake… that part was real

they just didn’t deserve it

also cause somewhere in that fucking mess…

they kinda painted a picture

a badass woman i would’ve fallen for

a protector with a heart, holding it down for her kid, building dreams

and i’ve got a soft spot for people like that...

then "christy" — the daughter — emailed me after supposedly receiving their lil birthday gift

same effin’ typing… same effin’ rhythm

it was like watching a puppet show where the puppeteer forgot to change voices eh

the illusion cracked...

then came the gold bars story (yep, gold bars)

120kg of them

apparently being sent to me — if i just helped with the “delivery fees”

(i was like… babe, if you planned your retirement, you should’ve planned for the shipping cost too eh… logistics 101)

anyway… i didn’t pay

i did send kindness

but now am sending truth

cause this shitt can happen to anyone

to smart people

to guarded people

to people who just wanted connection during a hard moment

they didn’t steal my money — but they tried to steal something far more valuable… hope

and they fucking failed

because i still believe in kindness

in people

in love that doesn’t need a uniform, a lameass script or stolen photos

i’ll meet the real thing one day

built not on lies but on laughter, truth and forehead kisses

if you’re reading this and you’ve been thru it too?

you’re not broken

you’re not dumb

you’re just human

let it sharpen you, not harden you

let it guide you, not define you... you know

there’s still magic

still real love

still truly amazing badass people worth believing in

as for the fucking scammer, excuse my french?

well, hopefully you heal, bruh

cause karma’s a better writer than me — and she’s already working on your ending...

P.S. one of my badass best friends verified it too like same story, same scammer, just different victim... we caught them copy-pasting their lies like a sad script... and reported their pathetic ass across platforms... stay sharp, stay golden

[monstersandmaw]

I think the deleted ask was me! No worries! It was a paragraph of me talking about how much I love Shaer (inspired by the recent ask about him) and how he's one of my comfort characters and I go back and read his story all the time.

I ALSO feel the same about Gabe and Odessa (also inspired by the recent ask about them). My most reread chapter is Gabe's POV, I love seeing his perspective and how much he loves Odessa.

It was!! Thank you!! That allowed me to find it in my email:

Thank you so much for taking the time to send it in not once but again after my overzealous ineptitude removed it! Also thank you for the addition about Gabe. He’s one of my favs to write tbh. I can’t wait for his perspective for Season Two… you’ll get to meet his awesome, badass lil bro and his kinda awful mum… :)

[toxicanonymity]

Hey Tox, I contacted my elected officials using resistbot, and have sent emails and plan to call using 5calls starting Monday even though I hate talking on the phone lol. DOGE has cut millions of dollars from Americorps funding, which helps people across the country in many ways: disaster relief and education to underprivileged and academically struggles students to name just a couple. Those who serve with Americorps do so to make their community a better place. They definitely don't do it for the money (it barely pays basic cost of living). If I can I'd love to leave this link here in case you or anyone wants to speak out about these cuts (no pressure). https://voicesforservice.org/take-action/contact-congress/

Thank you for all you do-both for speaking out against tyranny and just for being a badass creative writing babe 🩷

Lots of luv, Nev 🎃

Americorps makes a difference in so many lives, and it's disgusting how DOGE takes a chainsaw to all these critical programs without a second thought. Literally bragging and joking about it. It's so sick.

I will be making calls about this tomorrow and leaving voicemails. Tbh you may start to enjoy calling them once you get in the swing of it. That's right, bitch, you work for us, she thought to herself as she listened to his automatsd greeting for the third time that week...

Tysm for sharing this, Nev. And ty for speaking up! Love you ✌️🫶

[mytardisiscoolerthanyours]

You've Got Mail

Chapter 4: From the Trenches

Ch. 3

Quinnley,

Is your name really Quinnley? That's kind of badass, and also really pretty.

Well Q, it seems we’re destined to be friends, since I couldn’t stop myself from reading the rest of your letter and fell right into your trap. You’re just too charming… How dare you? And funny too!  Remind me to stop drinking water when I read your letters, the last one is still hanging up to dry. Some of those nicknames had me rolling. 

As for my brothers… it's a weird topic, I guess. I'm sure you’ve figured out from my last letters that I grew up most of my life as an only child. I always wanted siblings. It was so lonely in my house by myself, so I get what you mean by that. But suddenly I was thrown into this house with two older boys and it was so intimidating. They already had their own stuff going on and I was always in the middle of it. I felt like an outsider. We eventually found our way though, we even found a fourth brother too, but it was messy. I wouldn't have called them my friends, especially at first, but now they’re closer than that, more like actual brothers I guess. (don't tell them I said that, especially Dick. He will cry.)

Why do I always get sappy when I'm writing to you? You owe me something juicy in return, I need some secrets so we can balance this out. 

Back to the important stuff though: Coffee. We definitely have to get together when school starts because if you thought Latte Fever was good coffee then you have been seriously deprived. That is mediocre at best. I mourn your taste buds, truly.

It's a shame that they got bought out, though. Nobody should lose their small business, even if they do have bad coffee. There's a cafe downtown near campus that is a million times better, I promise. I'd say we can go sooner, but I'm totally swamped interning at my dads company this summer. He wants me to “get a taste of the business,” or whatever. I think it's just free labor.

I may also be a bit sporadic with my letters because of my crazy hours. He has me working during the day and then I have my own job at night, so sleep and free time have been scarce lately. I promise I'm not ignoring you, just incredibly busy. 

My schedule also has me dropping all my jujitsu and karate classes. Which, by the way Ms. Judgy, is a totally normal sport to be in. I'm allowed to have hobbies, ok? Martial arts is a great skill, one that maybe the average Gothamite needs more than in other cities, but it's also a stress reliever and genuinely fun. So what if I wanted to learn three different types at the same time? I like being prepared. 

You should give it a try some time. It's surprisingly addictive and fun. Plus, everyone should know how to defend themselves. 

You should especially learn something since you don't have your sick time control powers. It would be awesome if you did, and I'm honored that you would let me try it out, but at the moment nobody (not even you) has been registered with those skills yet. Trust me I have a spreadsheet. But I see what you're talking about, there's so many logistics to consider with it. I think if the power did exist, it could be amazing or really dangerous. Think of that power in the wrong hands… It's definitely a super villain in the making. 

NOT that I think you would be a super villain, or anything. Shit, see this is why we should email or text so I can delete the dumb things I say. I just meant that the power has the potential. Like Harley, uh I mean Poison Ivy, she's a chaotic good, right? (Yes, I also play D&D). She goes by her own moral compass, I feel like that's more your speed. Anyway, before I die in the hole I'm digging for myself, I decided to change my answer to your question. I really thought about it and I think I’d have the power to not need sleep. It would make my life so much easier in so many ways. (he says while falling asleep).

Ok. Now for the important stuff. I'm glad you're not a monster that puts fruit on their pizza. As you can see from this letter, we can still be on speaking terms. 

And to answer your question, I can't in good faith consider a hotdog a sandwich. The bread connects on the bun, if anything it would be a taco before being a sandwich. Sandwiches are two pieces of bread, separated by the ingredients inside. A hamburger would be a sandwich, but not a hotdog. I'm so sorry but you can’t change my mind. 

To keep with tradition, my next question is: If you could be an animal for a day, which one would you pick and why? 

(Mines a bird. Soaring through the skies and flying between buildings sounds like such a fun time.)

Hope you're enjoying the nice weather. What are your plans for the summer? I like learning more about you Q, it's been really fun. 

Till next time. 

From the trenches,

Tim-o-t

-

Real question though... Is a hot dog a sandwich? I need to know!

Check out the other chapters of the story here!

Thanks for reading!

[kindlingkeen]

4, 11, 12, 44 for the ask game

Hi anon, thanks so much for the ask! 💙

From this list of fic writer asks

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

The shower, so consistently that I’m pretty sure it’s witchcraft.

More seriously, I’m definitely inspired by other fics I’ve read, the comics, and the movies (UtRH ofc, and the lego batfam movie in particular). I’ve been watching the original 1990s Batman the Animated Series cartoon recently and been drawing a lot of inspiration from there.

Comments on ao3 and asks here are a huge source of inspiration.

I also have a brainstorming buddy that I talk out loud with to generate ideas.

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

I’ve really tried, and I just can’t do it. There’s too much good stuff out there. If you look at my blog under the tags ‘keen converses’ and ‘fic rec’ you’ll see a bunch of posts of fic recs. I’ll add two more here, inspired by my beloved mutual @bonerot19’s recent post. These are two of my favorite alt format fics:

Batstream by RandomReader13 @theawkwardvirgin, the bats livestream their patrol

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio @deadchannelradio, a transcript of the bats comm channel

12. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

I could write a whole blog post on this topic. I’m going to distill it down to a general statement and an anecdotal story.

Feedback and support create a positive feedback loop that makes me more likely to choose to write than to do something else with my precious free time. There’s a special kind of joy I get from ao3 comments and tumblr asks; they’re tangible proof other people are enjoying what I create (isn’t that what every artist wants to some degree?). When I get insightful comments or curious questions, it makes me think more deeply about the story I’m telling, and my writing gets better for it. Wanting to know what my repeat long commenters think about a chapter helps keep me on a schedule. Even just a <3 makes me smile and reopen my google doc that much faster.

My anecdotal story / PSA to leave a comment … I work a hugely stressful, emotionally demanding job. I was legit crying in the bathroom one night when I got an email notification for a comment on Asymmetrical Warfare. It was short, sweet and to the point—the equivalent of ‘this is fun, Jason is so badass,��� but it was more than enough to make me smile, square my shoulders, and get back to it.

Feedback doesn’t have to be profound or earth shattering. Just a few simple words, emojis, keyboard smashes — they matter more than you may think.

44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

Way too many commas.

Thanks so much for the ask, anon!! 💙

[rottenpumpkin13]

Apollo curses the SOLDIER floor with the gift go prophecy

*Zack and Kunsel are writing out reports*

Kunsel: These mission reports are getting ridiculous. You need a PhD in bureaucracy just to avoid getting written up.

Zack: Oh, come on. Maybe you're just bad at paperwork. Ever think of that?

Kunsel: I hope you get stuck doing all of it next time.

Lazard, passing by: Zack, I emailed you all the Third Class' mission reports from this afternoon. I need you to summarize each of them for me and have them on my desk by the end of the day.

Zack: !!!!!!

Kunsel: I've never been happier.

*Genesis and Sephiroth walk past*

Genesis: Aw, how tragic. The puppy's drowning in work.

Zack: I hope you trip on that dumb Loveless book you always carry around.

*Genesis' book falls out of his pocket. He steps on it, gravity does the rest. Face, meet floor*

Sephiroth: That was the best thing I've seen all month. I genuinely wish I recorded it.

Genesis: Oh, you think this is funny? I hope all your worst nightmares come true.

*Enter Hojo at the end of the hallway holding a tranquilizer gun*

*Sephiroth breaks the Olympic sprint record. Genesis has never seen him run this fast. Not in Wutai. Not ever. He didn't even know this was humanly possible*

Genesis: …

*Angeal walks in*

Zack: Wait, I wanna try something. Hey Angeal, I hope you can't say the word honor ever again.

*Angeal immediately clutches his throat. Silence. Coughing. He's lost his voice*

*Cloud walks in*

Cloud: What's going on?

Zack: As crazy as it may seem. everything we say comes true now. It's horrifying. You should give it a try.

Cloud: Uh… okay. I wish I got to wear the cool SOLDIER uniform, have mako tolerance, wield a sword like Angeal's, and have Sephiroth's badass genetics.

*Nothing happens*

Cloud: Yeah, figures.

*Cut to εγλ 0007*

Cloud: Fuck.