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sundayswife · 12 hours

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A gamble.

Aventurine x afab! Reader (No specific pronouns.)

Tags: Mdni!! Smut, Slight praise, unprotected sex(please use a darn condom), doggy style, fingering, squirting, soft sex?, character might be OOC, porn w/ plot, I guess?

A/n: Heyy, finally finished this fanfic. I hope I did okay at writing Aventurine's character, anyways enjoy!

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One scarlet night, you and Aventurine had chose to have a small game of cards. Nothing too special, if one loses, they would have to do anything the winner says. Very simple.

Even though, gambling and playing a cards with Aventurine was an risk. He was a good gambler after all, major luck on his side while he does so. Which makes your stomach twist and turn nervously.

One would think other wise if you'd say that your not nervous. Cmon, what's the chances of winning against someone as good as him? Though, there's always a way, but this is all about chance.

You huff as you looked at your cards, having a terrible hand. Again, you wondered if Aventurine was cheating. But he couldn't have been, you watched him shuffle the deck of cards a few good times already.

You tossed your cards down, only a sense of hope that he would somehow was a lower hand. But no, he hand a much higher hand and smirked. Before pushing the pile of chips towards himself, leaning his cheek and his hand as his elbow rests on the table. A cheeky smile plastered on his lips.

"Losing again are we now? I might say, your pretty bad at this." He teased, his violet irises meeting yours as his eyes narrow slightly. As if he was challenging you to continue, and finally lose the bet against him either way.

A frown spreads across yours lips as your slowly realized that you had no more chip to bet off. A sigh comes out quietly from you, before you close your eyes in defeat. "I have no more to bet on more of, the winner of this bet goes to you... Aventurine."

You grumbled slightly in annoyance, knowing anyways that you were going to lose one way or the other. You crossed your arms over your chest, opening your eyes once more as you meet gaze with his eyes.

That slyful smirk on his face was frustrating you, always so cocky with his smiles, you hated by how much it made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

"So... you chose defeat you say? Hm, I was hoping to have a.. longer game with you. But oh well, I'm fine with this either way." Aventurine shrugged, before flashing you with a wider grin. If that was even possible...

"Hm, anything I want... And you would do as I say?" He asked, his eyes wondering over your body. Obviously checking you out, having some ideas in mind. But not voicing them out justtt— yet.

You nodded your head in such defeat, you didn't wanted to bail down so fast. But at the same time, you didn't want to go into a dept that you very much didn't need at this very moment.

All aventurine did was kept that smirk on his face before opening his mouth. "Where's that pretty little voice now? Cmon... let me here you say yes, if not then we'll simply just continue the game without the little bet." Aventurine he said with a smug smile, though, his tone was as soft as a feather.

"Yes, that was the bet... the loser would have to do anything the winner says. And, I'm okay with that." You mumbled out, though still remaining eye contact with him either way.

Aventurine nods, hearing your verbal consent. That was all he needed before you asked you, for such favors... but he was silently happy that you trusted him.

"All right then, can you please come over here? Hm?" He questioned, with a tone filled with lust to the brim. But also with a touch of passion. He pats his thigh, singling for your to come and sit on his lap.

You felt heat raise to your cheeks, but you brushed it off and walked over towards him. Nervously. You gulp down the saliva that was building up in your mouth, before taking a seat in Aventurine's lap.

Shivers going up your spine as he wraps an arm around your waist. Holding you in place on his lap comfortably. "No need to be nervous sweetheart, I won't bite... I promise." He whispered into your ear, before placing his face into your neck. Taking a nice wiff of your scent, making himself melt just from the smell and weight from you.

"Hm, you smell delightful gem..." Aventurine mumbled out before wrapping his other arm around your waist. Enjoying the warmth of the embrace.

You then melt into his gentle touch, it calmed down your nerves as you hugged back. Enjoying his embrace as well, that was until you felt something poking your butt.

You knew what it was, it was obviously Aventurine's hardening cock. You let out a small chuckle before grinding your hips. Softly creating friction between your ass and his clothed dick

He groans out as his hands wandered down, gripping your hips firmly. As he tries to suppress desperate moans, already egar to feel you.

"Not feeling so shy are we now? Hmph... fuck, need you so badly." Aventurine mumbled out desperately, his hands helping your hips to grind back and forth. Both of you liking the small friction being created, but then, you liked how he wasn't just flat out controlling on what you want to do. Letting you have the freedom to pleasure yourself too.

You grip onto his shoulders for support as you hump against his hard on. All you could let out was soft whines and pants, from the nice feeling of grinding your clothed cunt against his clothed cock.

Aventurine let's out soft groans, and he's a type a guy to not hold back his sounds of pleasure. His lips press soft kisses against your neck, before sucking on the skin. Creating a hickie.

His left hand wanders up and cups your tit gently, foundling with it as his thumb brushes against your hardened nipple. Making you let out a sigh of pleasure, yes, it was like a slow burn. But it felt amazing by his hands.

"Hmm, can I take this shirt off of you? Please?" He asked, his right hand on the hem of your shirt as he waits for reply.

"Yes, Aventurine.." You replied with a small whine, which causes Aventurine to have a shiver go up his spine. They way you spoke his name in that honey tone, Aeons he needed you so badly.

Aventurine leans back a bit, before he takes the bottom of your shirt and pulls it up. Not too long before it's on the floor and he's kissing all over your neck. Mumbling how your doing so good for him, 'such a good gem.' He would say as he kisses down your collarbone.

His hands would wander around your body softly, but firm. He would then start nibbling at your neck, becoming a lil rough, but not too rough to make you uncomfortable.

Your hips would twitch as he slide his hands to your pants, waiting for you to say no or to stop him just in case. Only for you to whine for him to continue, which causes him to smirk.

Pulling your pants along with your underwear, you then kick the extra clothes off of your ankle. Letting out a small gasp as Aventurine's right hand came down further down. Cupping your cunny softly before his middle and ring finger found your bundle of nerves.

Aventurine started to rub small and slow circles on your clit, teasing you as your hips buckled up from the sweet but so, so far away pleasure. Just wanting more, he was treating you so nicely. And now he's teasing? And still clothed? Unfair.

He let out a chuckle before speaking out. "My, my... you are so wet my dear. All of this because of me?" He teased, before picking the pace, rubbing circles on your clit faster. Which causes you to wail out a moan.

You've always hated for when he teased, but you also loved it. Your thighs become shaky as you felt the knot in your stomach blooming more.

"How about you be a good little gem and cum for me, hm? You can do that right?" He would tease, while rubbing faster circles on your poor clit.

You felt like your were about to burst. That knot in your stomach becoming looser and looser, before it hit you.

"Ah—! Aventurine— I'm gonna...!"

You wailed out as you came on his fingers, gushing all over his trousers and your thighs. It felt so good that you were seeing stars.

"Holy fuck..." Aventurine whispered out as he continued to rub at your clit, but gently so you could ride out your oragsm.

"Looks like I got myself a squirter... heh," he teased as his fingers slowly came to a stop. A wide smirk across his lips as he looked down at your panting form.

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"Fuck... you feel so good." Aventurine groaned out, while he pushed himself slowly into your cunt.

You were no longer in his lap, and now was bent over the table. The cards you two were playing with were now all scrabled everywhere.

Neither of you cared though, only wanting the sweet pleasure of sex. Feeling him slip into your pussy perfectly, you squirting earlier helped out with him sinking his cock into you.

Both of you sigh out in pleasure as Aventurine finally bottoms out inside of you. His head resting against your shoulder as he waits for you to fully adjust to him.

He wasn't grithy, but he was long. Probably about 6 inches or 6 in a half inches long. At least.

"You can move now..."

You mumbled out softly, your hips twitching with need.

Aventurine nods before placing his hands firmly on your hips and lifting his upper body up from your back.

Pulling out a little before slamming his hips back, causing both of you to moan out in the pleasure forming between you two.

"Fuuck, you are so tight my gem stone..." He murmurs out along with a grunt, his cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls.

All you could do was moan and drool by how much pleasure he was giving you. Aventurine's cock was literally felt like it was perfect for you.

You wail out as you felt his tip brush gracefully against your g-spot, hitting it sooo sweetly it made your toes curl.

"R–right there! Fuck! Mmm,"

You moaned out as your back arches from the pure bliss you were feeling, tears swelling in your eyes from the way he hit your cervix so perfectly.

The room was filled with plaps as skin hit one against another, as well as the sounds of your cunt gushing around his cock. And finally both yours and his moans would fill up the room as well.

"So good f'me, ah– ugh fuck! You feel so good." Aventurine praised as his hips picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours.

His cock now rubbing against your sweet spot everytimes he re-enters into your body. At this point, you were fucked dumb. It's felt all too good that you couldn't think straight anymore.

His grunts were growing louder as his pace became more punishing, hips and pelvis slamming right up against your ass.

Everything was a wild blur, you couldn't think straight as Aventurine's cock rubbed against your soft walls. Over, and over again.

You were taking him so well, that his mind was driving up the wall. Thrusts becoming sloppy as he felt you clench around his grith.

"Cum for me,"

Aventurine grunted, wanting you to cum before he did. Wanting to satisfy you first before he came.

Your eyes rolled back, letting out a strangled moan as you creamed around him. Cumming around him as he hisses at the squeeze.

Sloppy thrusts continue, desperately going faster as you whine out at the overstimulation.

"Ugh, gonna cum— fuck!"

He groaned out before you felt hot, gooey substance fill your insides up. Nice and full of it.

His hips still against yours as he pants out, making sure you take it all. All of his seed before he pulls out from your warn pussy.

"Did so good f'me, good gem..."

He whispered into your ear before your eyes closed, going into a blissful sleep after the turn of events...

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A/n: Hey!! I just wanted to say that this might be out of character for Aventurine but I tried. Hope you guys enjoyed!! Stay safe and reblogs are appreciated.

#hsr fanfic #x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #characters x reader #hsr aventurine #x you #aventurine x reader #fem reader #smut #hsr smut #fanfic #smut fanfiction #writing #aventurine x reader smut

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hgejfmw-hgejhsf · 1 day

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Six Sentence Sunday!

Emerging from the depths of the land of the uninspired, exhausted muses, Val is here to share a little bit of writing from a WIP that is close to being finished, but isn't quite there just yet. The wheels have started to turn once more, so I'm hoping by sharing this and getting some validation from y'all, it might just give the muse the push she needs to get back in the game.

No tags as of 10:30 PM ET when I'm about to schedule this, so I'm going to start us off, and if someone tags me between now and midnight ET, I'm sorry in advance haha.

“Turns out attempting to suck my brain out through my dick is pretty fucking sobering because I want to commit it to the long term memory bank, so I’m fine,” he assures, and Henry believes him. The laser focus in his brown eyes, a look that Henry recognizes all too well. He’s seen it in the middle of the night, gazing back at him from the office where Alex was hunched over his laptop and surrounded by a pile of law books. He’s seen it in the kitchen, Alex’s tongue sticking out from between his lips as he attempts one of his abuela’s recipes. And he’s seen it in Kensington Palace, what might as well be in another lifetime now, lighting the midnight dark and filling Henry with a hope that he didn’t feel he deserved for a life that he is now living. “And I want it. I want you.”

Tags for my lovelies behind the cut! I've been hearing that Tumblr's got some weird, five tags per line rule, so I hope this works!

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @agame-writes @anincompletelist @bigassbowlingballhead

@cactusdragon517 @captainjunglegym @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @duchessdepolignaca03

@eusuntgratie @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes

@leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery

@msmarvelouswinchester @ninzied @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @onthewaytosomewhere

@piratefalls @priincebutt @rockyroadkylers @ships-to-sail @songliili

@sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @suseagull04

@taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @typicalopposite @user-anakin

@vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew @zwiazdziarka

#six sentence sunday #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfiction #rwrb fanfic #my fics #my wips #my writing

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wikiangela · 3 days

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples thank you <33

How many works do you have on ao3?

right now it's 90! (57 of these are 911 lol)

What's your total ao3 word count?

535,450

What fandoms do you write for?

currently just 911, but I have some destiel and sambucky fics and who knows, I might get back to them at some point haha

Top 5 fics by kudos:

For a holiday (and forevermore)

I can't love you any more (than I do now)

I'd marry you with paper rings

the next best thing

There’s no way that it’s not going there (with the way that we’re looking at each other)

(they're all buddie and I just noticed that the top 4 are all over 1k kudos?? when did that happen lmao)

Do you respond to comments?

I do! sometimes it takes me a while bc i get lowkey overwhelmed lol but I always do!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

there's not a lot bc I prefer happy or hopeful endings, but I guess by post 6x10 fics? Fine and don't know what I'd do if your tomorrow never came idk lol

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

most of my fics have happy endings, but I guess I'd say For a holiday (and forevermore)

Do you get hate on fics?

not really? got like one or two not very nice comments but generally no haha

Do you write smut?

yes I do 😁 not often and it always takes me forever but I do have two smut fics in the works (one buddie, one bucktommy lol)

Craziest crossover?

don't have any

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

Have you co-written a fic before?

All time favorite ship?

buddie

(ngl, bucktommy is a veeeeery close second rn🙈)

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

there's two that have been fighting me for so long they're lowkey abandoned now and tbh I don't know if I still want to finish them? one is a 5+1 nicknames, and the other just a silly idea about eddie flirting with buck since they met but buck being veeeery oblivious lol

What are your writing strengths?

I think (usually) I'm pretty good at staying true to the characters and not making them too ooc (and I know when it's ooc, okay, I have one wip rn where I just don't give a fuck, I'm writing it anyway lol), and I can get into their heads pretty well. Also I think I'm good at the cute fluffy stuff lol idk

What are your writing weaknesses?

there's probably a lot lol - rn the one that comes to mind is descriptions probably, which is why writing fanfic where we have established characters and settings is so much easier than og stuff haha

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I don't mind it but I don't do it a lot aside from a pet name here and there bc I just don't wanna get anything wrong lol

First fandom you wrote in?

for tv shows supernatural, but before that I did write rpf which i just wanna forget about lol

Favorite fic you've written?

rn it's three:

we don't know where this is going now (don't be afraid of heights, let me open your heart wide) - my tommy pov fic <3

I'm comin' back, don't let me go - buck driving/breakdown fic

baby, you drive me wild - car smut - might not be my best but it's my fave smut lol

tags: @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @evanbegins

@wildlife4life @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks

@rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @theotherbuckley @daffi-990

@hoodie-buck @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard

#wikiangela writes #20 questions #writer questions #fic writer #my fics #writing tag game

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 3 days

Note

Alright, and here's request #2

May I ask for Fives and Fox

with Prompt 14: Last Words

Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".

Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

In Your Head

Fox

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: none

Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives

Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.

It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.

It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.

Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.

Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?

Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.

Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.

"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.

Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.

"Talk to me," Thorn says.

"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.

Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."

"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn says.

Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."

"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckles. "I don't know."

Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.

"Fox," Thorn prods.

"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.

"I don't remember," Fox says.

"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.

Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.

"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.

Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.

Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?

Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.

Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.

Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.

Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.

Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.

Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.

Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.

Hi Fox , a voice says.

Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.

Fox , the voice says.

Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.

Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.

Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.

Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.

He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.

Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.

Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.

"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.

The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.

Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"

The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.

Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.

Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nods.

Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."

Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"So are you," Fox smirks.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.

Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?

Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.

Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.

I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .

Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."

"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .

"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too , the apparition says.

"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.

Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.

Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.

The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .

Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."

It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?

He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.

Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.

The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.

"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.

What are you talking about? the apparition asks.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.

C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.

Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?

Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."

Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.

Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.

A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.

Event Masterlist

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lanawinterscigarettes · 1 day

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James Wilson dating someone who gets cute aggression

Warnings: cute aggression (duh) so there's mention of playful biting and such from the reader

A/N: this idea popped into my head randomly and I thought it'd be a big hit with my fellow Wilson lovers because honestly who doesn't get cute aggression when looking at him

I don't think Wilson would know what cute aggression is but I'm pretty sure he's used to people displaying their affection in less than conventional ways given that House is his best friend

He wouldn't have a problem with it, per say, but he'd certainly be confused to first time you do it

Picture it: he's sitting in his office as he fills out paperwork while you're waiting for him to finish. You're so bored and want his attention so badly that when he stops writing for even a second you take that as an opportunity to bite his hand

You don't bite hard enough to draw blood or anything, just hard enough to get his attention

He stops what he was doing and looks over at you with a befuddled expression on his face, his big brown puppy dog eyes full of confusion

"Did you just- did you just bite me?" It's clear from the disbelief in his voice that he doesn't know what to think. He'd never been bitten before, certainly not in such a casual manner

"Yeah, so?" You gave him a slight shrug as if it were no big deal. "Sometimes I bite people I like. Is that a problem?"

Being the little people pleaser he is, he of course says no. "Uh, not at all. I just- I wasn't expecting that"

He goes back to work, thinking that'll be the end of it. It's not, as you decide to take his indifference as an invitation to bite him whenever you get the chance to

It doesn't take that long for him to get used to your strange habits of biting him when he's not paying attention to you or squeezing him a little too hard when giving him hugs

If House finds out about your cute aggression (which, let's be honest, of course he does because he has no respect for other people's privacy) he uses that information as a way to get on Wilson's nerves all the time

"Nice bite marks on your hand. Did you get a dog recently, or is it just another act of affection from your doting partner?"

"Shut up, House"

"What? I'm not the one willingly giving myself up to be somebody else's chew toy"

In all honesty, Wilson actually doesn't mind your cute aggression, even if he knows he probably should

He always lets you playfully bite his hand or give him really tight hugs when you ask with no complaint, finding the acts to be oddly endearing for some reason

Even when you coddle and baby talk him the same way someone might speak to a pet the most he might do is roll his eyes or let out a loud exasperated sigh

"You're so cute, Jimmy, did you know that? It makes me want to wrap you up and never let you go"

"Well, it's nice to know you care about me, even if you are talking to me like I'm a dog"

"Hey, it's not my fault you have the biggest, most adorable set of puppy dog eyes around that make you look like such a little cutie patootie"

"You're as bad as House, did you know that?"

"I take that as a compliment"

"Of course you do"

All in all, Wilson loves you and knows that you love him, even if you show it in an odd way

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

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basil-touche · 3 months

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Find the Word!

Find the words from the list in your wips and post the paragraphs they belong to.

Cheers @rainy-circle!

I haven't offically uploaded any fics yet and I don't have many wips that have more than a few lines of dialogue, but I've been working on a Pirates! one for more than a year that I may finish... someday.

It's called Clogs & Contemplation.

Moon & Sun

(Technically cheated here as both words appear in the same paragraph, also added some of the next paragraph as the sample would only be a sentence long otherwise)

The sun had set for some time now, leaving the moon the only source of light on the open sea.

The Pirates most recent adventure, involving clog making, had been considered a roaring success and most of the crew had gone downstairs to do their customary shantying in celebration. Apart from the lights peeking out between the decking, the sounds of shanties and the occasional thunk of handmade clogs beneath the pirate ship above deck was calm, almost serene.

Eye

The scarf-wearing pirate's eyeline dropped to the sea below. He looked like he was trying very hard to not cover his face with his namesake, plucking at the ends of it. Said namesake now nearly matched the colour of his face.

Smile

"Just stating what I see. Love the guy, sings a good shanty, don't get me wrong, but I can see that he's similar to me but to the extreme." A small smile appeared on the pirate with moles' face. "Though I suppose that means that life at sea is never boring with him at the helm."

Hand

The pirate with moles hesitated for a moment. To say that the scarf-wearing pirate's admission of love for his Captain was a surprise would be a lie. They may be the most recent recruit, but they weren't blind to the fond looks the first mate gave to his superior, a reassuring hand on a shoulder that lingered for just a tad too long.

---

Anyone can feel free to partake in this if they have any wips they want to share & I also tag @carriagelamp, @inktheblot, @hadescavedish, @edwardashley (you don't have to do this if you don't want to or don't have any wips)

Words for the next round: sea, star, pleasant, walk, linger

#rainy-circle #tag meme #basil's notes #basil's wips #basil's fics #basil's writing #my writing #fics #fanfic #the pirates! in an adventure with scientists #the pirates! band of misfits #pbom #← might as well tag what I'm writing about #I'm hoping to finish this by the end of the year #just gotta figure out how I want to write these characters

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jichanxo · 2 months

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(late) sunday six

thanks for the tag @passthroughtime and @overdevelopedglasses! not gonna tag anybody because i'm late to the party as is :P i've mentioned sensei au/fic a lot in passing but i think this is the first time i'm actually talking about it properly in a text post as opposed to like, tags on my art... anyway, it goes without saying that this has lost judgment spoilers. part of the premise for this fic is that kitakata never becomes kuwana because he only barely manages to fix everything at the last possible moment. mitsuru lives, but only because he gets lucky. something like that. the main fic takes place long after this, but i recently had a go at trying to write mitsuru and kitakata on the roof together, since it's obviously integral to kitakata's character even if mitsuru doesn't die. i'm still feeling it out, but it's been an interesting one. very different from what i'm used to. but also cathartic in some ways.

anyway here's an excerpt. putting another warning here for lost judgment spoilers and mentions of suicide.

Kusumoto looked away, sat up. He didn’t really seem to care that Kitakata was there, aside from the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything rash with him here, which he resented.

He wiped at his chin, his eyes, but the movements were clumsy, and he couldn’t clean himself off properly. His hair was still a mess, though he’d tried to make it presentable again. Kitakata suddenly wished he had a handkerchief in his pocket instead of a packet of cigarettes.

“I’m not going to kill myself, Sensei. You can leave if you want.”

He wanted to relieve Kitakata of any responsibility to be here. He thought Kitakata was only doing any of this to cover his own ass.

Kitakata hadn’t given him any reason to believe otherwise.

“Oh, well.” He fished for the first excuse that came to mind. “Haven’t had my smoke yet.”

He pulled one out, took his time lighting it. It’d buy him some time. It didn’t matter what Kusumoto thought of him, and he wouldn’t delude himself to expect that he might think that Kitakata was here because he wanted to be. It wasn’t entirely untrue, after all, that he was just trying to cover his ass. He’d made a mistake, and he was desperate to fix it.

He took a drag. Exhaled. Looked to Kusumoto.

“Do you mean it?” He asked.

“Mean what?” Kusumoto mumbled.

“When you said you weren’t going to kill yourself.”

#lost judgment spoilers #tw suicide #...not sure what other content warnings i should put here i'm not familiar with posting this kind of thing #hopefully tumblr doesn't eat it alive for that alone #kitakata sensei #jichanmakes #sunday six #<- not sure how often i'll participate but i have been writing quite a bit lately so i might as well make the tag #anyway um. sensei fic! sensei fic!#unfortunately it's probably one of the most depressing parts of the au. important! but depressing.#snipped off one of the less visceral parts at the very least. writing mitsuru and kitakata speaking in this context feels very..... hm #like i said it's a very different subject to write about than what i'm used to #i still want to read over some other peoples' depictions of mitsuru but this is basically my like. first go unfiltered attempt.#at the very least i have a feeling for the tone now

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moregraceful · 4 months

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i need to respond to asks...i WANT to respond to asks...i am SO BEHIND on my word count goal this weekend (did not write at all)...i always want to be like oh i need approximately 36 hours per day to survive, but you know what. i'd probably just fill it up with more stuff and still feel like i never have time

#i need a vacation. or a lobotomy #i took a nap and got a massage and all it did was make me less emo but not less stressed #i wanted to have a FULL DRAFT by tonight #i am 6.4K BEHIND #i am not writing 6.4k in one night bro #also the fic like completely fell off the wagon #like i have diverged from the outline so far at this point i'm just like whatever happens is NOT my business #the vibe is in shambles tbh i might do mid-draft edits like i did with fragments to see if that clears anything up at all #since it worked really well with that fic and gave me a way clearer vision of tone and emotional beats #which is really what's going on here. inconsistent tone and the emotional beats are unbalanced #wow i love when i start typing tags and solve my own problems. digital self-flagellation creates a solution for once #i also owe about like 5 billion people responses to dms IT WILL HAPPEN. I SEE YOUR CONCEPTS AND I LOVE THEM #fresno oilers.txt

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the-eclectic-wonderer · 13 days

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Summary:

Three little scenes on the theme of singing.

:) I was in the mood for something short and sweet. Hope you enjoy!

#gotta go back to work for a bit but i couldn't resist posting this as soon as i had a few free minutes #i originally meant to post these on here only but the middle vignette got away from me a bit. lol #i think the moment miles complained about rose humming is the moment that cemented my severe dislike of him. like. dude.#your girlfriend is snow-white mary poppins the most adorable princess ever #and you complain? that she hums??? im going to break your kneecaps????#idk what else i can say about dorothy singing 'what'll i do'. that scene is everything it changed my life ngl #i guess i wanted a happier memory related to it than 'oh she sings it and then leaves forever four episodes later'#i hope rose's pov works well! i'm never quite sure about it. i should give a try to a whole fic in her pov soon #please tell me im not the only one who found blanche's beer jingle to be the sweetest thing ever. she sang it in such a soft voice #like it's funny ofc but i just melted #might be because im in love with her though #i always ramble in the tags when i post this stuff lmao. i hope you all have fun #hugs and kisses for you!#the golden girls #golden wives #writing

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bitchthefuck1 · 1 month

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I will never understand the fanfic impulse to take characters with thee most coo coo bananas codependent/nuanced/toxic/insane relationship and turn them into love interests #1 and #2 in a generic romance novel. like what is even the point anymore

#i don't just mean 'bad' relationships that they're trying to romanticize or sanitize; this happens all the time with 'good' relationships #with some funk or flavor to them where they sand off all of the things that actually make them interesting and compelling #and you're just left with this bland ball of nothing like they're generic couple no. 4 in a clothing ad #like girl why are you even here then?? what was the appeal for you that made you want to write about these people in the first place???#you've taken all the flavor out???#it always reminds me of that one screenshot someone took of a tag on a succession fic that was like 'logan is a good dad au' and its like #okay well why are we here then? like that changes so much about the characters and the story (and also like the entire point #the show is making about power and abuse) that you might as well write about literally anyone/anything else bc you're sure as shit #not writing about these characters anymore #and like. there's nothing wrong with enjoying bland or formulaic romance i'm not gonna find you and come to your house #but if that's what you're into then why do you even like these people???#to be clear i don't mean 'take them and place them neroses and all into a suburban home to watch them chew the wallpaper and #confuse their neighbors' that's completely different

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asjjohnson · 1 year

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He lives in Amity Park. Just one of seventy thousand people making a living under the shield.

He makes a modest salary working at a garage. There's a handful of cars per day, coming in for oil changes or tune-ups, and the work is divided between him and two coworkers.

He considers himself to be pretty average. One face lost within a sea of thousands. Unnoticed and unmemorable.

He doesn't mind. He's a pretty bland person overall. He doesn't do much other than work, eat, watch whatever's showing on TV when he's at his small apartment, and sleep; and he doesn't feel he needs more from life than that.

He moved to Amity Park a few years ago, after wandering from place to place.

The ghost thing was new to him. He can't remember seeing a ghost until after moving here. And when the purpose of the shield was explained to him, he couldn't imagine ghosts beyond a vague idea. They were said to be slightly translucent and able to fly. And, in Amity Park, ghosts are just another part of their way of life. A normal sight to see. Especially Phantom.

Even now he can't build a clear mental image or description when it comes to ghosts. He never had a chance to really take one in.

Every time he sees Phantom, his mind goes blank, in pure terror.

Even on the other side of the shield, high in the sky 500 feet away, barely even close enough to make out the cape and suit, the ghost would cause him to freeze in place on the sidewalk, forgetting how to breathe while people push past him to continue on their way.

---

He's at the garage when the sirens come on. In an oil-stained jumpsuit, on his back beneath a car.

At first he's confused, cocking his head to listen, but someone yells that it's the shield.

He should've recognized the sound. There's a drill twice a year. Somewhat of a holiday. The entire town meets up in the shelters under the city. But the timing is off. Wrong month, wrong day, wrong time. For one thing, there is no work on Drill Day. So he didn't make the connection at first.

He puts his wrench down and follows the others out of the garage.

When he steps through the door, he sees Phantom in the distance, throwing parked cars, and he freezes as the others run.

It gets hard to breathe. He can't get enough air. His vision zeroes in on Phantom, the rest of the world vanishing. His heart pounds in his chest like it's trying to free itself. Phantom is coming nearer. He feels dizzy. His head is swimming. He... he has to sit... His knees hit the asphalt. His palms keep him from falling, his eyes never leave Phantom. The ghost comes nearer, casually, meanderingly, blasting random objects. As near as three businesses down. Two. Phantom turns and blows up the building across the street.

Phantom turns back around. Eyes focused overhead, at the garage building. A giddy-looking grin. Then the eyes drift downward.

They lock on him.

"What do we have here? A flea that forgot how to scurry away?"

He shudders at the sound of the voice. Trembles as Phantom floats nearer. He cringes on the ground, seeing his death mere feet away. Stares wide-eyed.

Phantom's grin fades, eyebrows furrowing as eyes study his face. Then, "You?" The eyes narrow, a sneer crossing the face. "I should have finished you."

He shrinks back as Phantom reaches for him. Squeezes his eyes tightly shut. Death. Death.

But instead, a strong hand grips his upper arm—and something seems to light up behind his eyes.

Memories flow through him like water.

A sister. Spinning on her heel with long orange hair flying, a superior, righteous expression as she says something.

Parents. Both wearing tight jumpsuits, excited, building a deadly weapon at the dinner table while asking about school.

Friends. One in black and one with glasses, putting a finger to their earpieces as they talk over each other making suggestions.

...Himself.

Tiredly brushing long black bangs out of his eyes as he reaches for a toothbrush. Lying on his back looking up at the stars. Observing a translucent, slightly glowing gloved hand, wiggling the fingers.

He exhales with a hiss. And snaps his eyes open to glare at Phantom. "You!" He jerks back, breaking Phantom's grip on his arm.

He was robbed of ten years of his life. Of who he is. He lived through ten years not realizing what was going on around him. Accepting the shield and the destruction as normal! And it was a part of himself doing all of this! Making the shield necessary! Out having a joyride at everyone's expense!

He's so angry. Furious.

He can feel his eyes light up for a split second, and a flash of green sparking in his palms. "I'll destroy you!"

He doesn't run for the emergency ecto-gun in the garage.

He lunges at Phantom with his bare hands, palms repeatedly trying to glow, sparking for only an instant at a time, like an igniter without fuel to back it up.

#danny phantom #dp #the ultimate enemy #dan phantom #dark danny #danny fenton #au #asj post #asj writing #I tried looking up what a panic attack feels like. I probably didn't write it very well though. But well I tried.#Hmm. It might be possible to interpret this ficlet more than one way.#rest of tags are ficlet spoilers #I'm still interested in the Tue 'human side doesn't die' possibility.#I'd always thought it was assumed that Dan killed his human side. But Vlad never said. Just said Dan did something pretty bad to him.#My 1st dp fic idea had an unconscious Danny. But I've been thinking about it again lately. I'm pushing the idea a little farther each time.#The idea here was that Danny's kinda an empty shell without much inside. Just going through life blankly and without memory.#He's a bg character. The only unique thing about him is that feeling of fear.#But when Dan touches him it creates a connection. So part of what was taken can return through that connection.#But there's a chance you could see the story as about a stranger who has some kind of skin-to-skin–contact mind-reading ability.#It could be someone other than Danny. Who takes Danny's memories from Dan.#...I didn't end the story early. I'd imagined the ending being him lighting like my computer's been doing and leaping for Dan.#(The computer had gotten better after awhile but after I reset/recovered it it's gotten bad again.#Last time I turned it on it took try after try after try. The power button light would only flash on for a split second. A blink.#Then after several tries the power button would flash on for slightly longer and I'd hear a part shift. Like a cutoff sentence like 'D—'.#the computer eventually came on though.)#I imagined more at the beginning and more at the end and more about the panicking. Just didn't think of the words to use.#The only reason he can punch at Dan at all is because of the residual power. It's like the Fenton Gauntlets that let humans touch ghosts.#Drill Day is like a fair. It's part practice part fun and part getting rid of old food supplies to get ready to restock.#People sometimes think Danny looks familiar but he gives a different name and shows no recognition. So he must just be a stranger.#'Danny died in the NB explosion right?' or 'That out-of-state billionaire adopted him.' or 'There'd been that Masters Mansion explosion.'

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