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kyouka-supremacy · 3 months

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Who in sskk would you say has the higher IQ?

IQ as in, conventionally smart? Then definitely Atsushi does. I'm sorry. I've said it many times before, but I don't think Akutagawa is a particularly perceptive person. Or witty. Or intelligent in general. It's due to external factors, he never got the chance to have anything that could resemble a proper education; but it's also a matter of his nature, he's just so impulsive, and narrow-minded, and stubborn, he really has the thickest skull ever. But seriously, especially in a world full of geniuses, Akutagawa simply doesn't shine for sharpness of mind, and is way too impulsive and instincts-driven to be a person that relies on reflection or rationality. Everything that Akutagawa does is the epitome of irrational, it's one of the greatest appeals of the character.

Atsushi is smart,,,, I've talked about this also, and I think it's less sustained by canon than for Akutagawa, but I like to think he's a very observant and perceptive person whose intelligence doesn't show because he's constantly surrounded by geniuses, but still he is smart. When it comes to observations skills, I find it easy for him to have them due to his childhood of ill-treatment and abuse: as a defense mechanism, he learnt to be especially observative of people's behaviour in order to tell what sets people off and be able to prevent any escalation, I think that's a widely shared abuse survivor experience. Something among these lines is shown in chapter 51:

I also think Atsushi is a very fast learner. He's observant, and that results in him constantly absorbing other people's knowledge. He's often asking for explanations for Dazai and Ranpo's reasonings, and although I know more often than not it solves an expositive role in the storytelling picture, there's still the fact that it makes Atsushi a person who's constantly trying to understand the reality surrounding him. Atsushi is also shown to be very cool-minded and calculating in fight: from him sliding under Akutagawa and attacking him from behind successfully eluding having to face him front-off in chapter 4, to him retracting his tiger limbs to escape Rashomon's bonds in chapter 12, to the strategy he elaborated with Tanizaki (and his ability to catch up on that) to defeat Lucy in chapter 16, to his attempt to outsmart Fitzgerald in chapter 34 (that, although failed, was still driven by rational thinking nonetheless), and the list could go on. The way in fight Atsushi is shown to ponder over and implement the advices people like Dazai or Mori offered him further makes me believe he's really good at absorbing information. And Atsushi is probably book smart, too! He's compelled by reading to the point he would even risk the orphanage director's punishment just to sneak into the library and read (not explicitly supported by canon, but I can take a guess). According to the second guidebook, he spends his leisure time borrowing books from the library and studying. Overall, he really seems to be rational in all the places Akutagawa is on the contrary driven by impulses¹.

It's like… A physics law when it comes to sskk, that Akutagawa will have the most despicable trait while Atsushi has the trait that is conventionally considered the best; or at least that's as far as my characterization of them goes. Atsushi is beautiful, Akutagawa is ugly². Atsushi is polite, Akutagawa is rude. Atsushi is pure, Akutagawa is stained. Atsushi is smart, Akutagawa isn't. Atsushi is lovable, Akutagawa is destined to cause repulsion in everyone he meets³. In the end, none of this matters: they're no different where it counts, that is, Atsushi isn't any more morally just than Akutagawa is. Atsushi in not any more good than Akutagawa is (I actually suspect the contrary is true). But as far as appearances go, it's still important to portray them as opposites, because Akutagawa being unlovable and Atsushi receiving all the love Akutagawa didn't get for being his contrary - even though deep down they're the same - is almost everything their relationship is about. It's also a big part of why they act like they do towards each other: it's source of Akutagawa's bottomless envy for Atsushi; it's source of how devoted and loyal he will grow to be for him - reaching the point of giving his life for him -, because he can't see Atsushi as anything but perfection. It's source of confidence and of that certain justified hatred towards Akutagawa Atsushi feels because to his eyes Akutagawa is about the worst person to have ever walked on earth. It's source to their wish to annihilate the other as the opposite they can't exist at the same time of. It's the reason Akutagawa had to die, because he's not the good one. Overall it's also expression of Akutagawa's thematic struggle to be good and unavoidable failure at that because of the constraints of a narrative that never wanted him to be good.

But I also think they can make it work. More precisely, I think sskk can make it work when both of them can overcome and defeat the narrative dichotomy they found themselves stuck into: by recognizing that deep common ground of “we're the same” and that where it matters, in morals, neither of them is better or worse than the other. The Beast universe exemplifies that for us readers, but they don't know Beast, so they'll have to realize it by their own. About that, I think Akutagawa already caught on, because he was faster to call out the hypocrisy of Atsushi's good guy façade, and from that it's a short distance to realizing that, as much as he hates to admit it, at his core Atsushi is not that different from himself. It's taking a little more for Atsushi to realize, because it's harder to get down from that higher moral pedestal he believes himself to be on, but with his whole reevaluating Akutagawa after he stopped killing and sacrificed himself for him (and then saved him again. And then showed him how formidable of a team they are when they find a common ground.), I think he's getting there.

Tl;dr: Atsushi is smart and Akutagawa is stupid and yes it fits their personalities, but way more importantly it's consistent with the themes they carry that translate in what their relationship is like.

¹ For further reading on how Atsushi can be witty, please refer to @/gloomierdays's tags on this post. ² For further reading on how Atsushi and Akutagawa's looks can be used to reflect their characters themes, please refer to this post. ³ For further reading on how Akutagawa being not smart (as far as conventional definitions of smart go) ties to his character themes, please refer to this post.

#Answering this exactly one month late I'm so so so so so sorry #To be fair if I didn't set my mind on writing dissertations for every ask I get I'd probably be able to answer them faster #Seriously again I deeply apologize for taking so long ///////#atsushi nakajima #ryūnosuke akutagawa #sskk #shin soukoku #bsd #bungou stray dogs #mine #people asks me stuff #I don't even think Akutagawa likes reading lol.#I think he's so restless and impatient‚ his attention span is really far too low to sit down and read something leisurely.#This might as well be my most fandom unpopular sskk opinion of them all ajkfafliugefligwfkqwjyg

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car-lozsigns · 9 months

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A few minutes more (Pt19)

Synopsis: You and Carlos had crossed paths more than you thought was possible over a short weekend but time was not on your side. A love story that’s about the slow burn and companionship built connection, and how sometimes right place wrong time is the best of the available options

Author Note: I'm back after a break from writing. Part 19 and 20 have been in draft for ages but here the first one is below. Thank you for your patience and hope you enjoy <3

Length:~4.8k

Warnings: Quarantine and covid mention

Previous parts: Link to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

Part 19

Quarantine in the UK was much less fun than your time in Spain. Carlos’ home was an apartment not unlike your own, out of the way of the city centre but not quiet rural. It wasn’t much bigger than your own with an extremely small second room that Carlos had converted to a home gym. It was very apparent that this space was not lived in, majority of its contents were work related, logos strewn across everything. It has a very unloved and borderline desolate feeling to it.

Carlos closed the door behind him, sighed knowing that this was going to be more uncomfortable than he wanted. His apartment did not have access to his own courtyard or communal one and in order to meet both the teams and governments requirements , neither of you were allowed outside unless it was private space.

You hadn’t bothered stopping past your apartment when you both landed, Carlos’ place being, one closer to the airport, and two you had already purchased anything you might have needed whilst staying at the Sainz’s.

Dropping both your bags inside and closing the door behind you, you both tried to steel yourself for the next two weeks.

Both you and Carlos feel into a similar routine, except this time both of your days were work filled, as if you were both working regular jobs, majority of your time spent on your computers. You had claimed a corner of Carlos’ kitchen as your work spot, getting primo position as you had the most conventional job of the two. But both tried to alternate where you worked as days passed. You were conscious of Carlos appearing in your background of your calls which resulted in a few doggedly tilted camera angles and experimenting with the default backdrop setting when you heard his shuffling in from the other end of the apartment to see if you were free to distract him from his boredom.

It also turned out that he was quite a loud worker with all of his meeting broken up with impassioned burst either from one of his team or himself inputting their thoughts on whatever they were discussing. Hearing how much Carlos enjoyed his work couldn’t help but make you reflect on your own situation. You had always thought you enjoyed what you did. You had not dreaded waking up and working since moving to the UK but hearing how well Carlos got on with his colleagues made you reconsider. Even prior to covid the tone was much more subdued. You had an amazing boss but never were the conversations in that friendly tone that transcended work civility. It was always clipped at the opportunity for too much personal information shared. You had unintentionally curated your personality to suit this while at work, and one afternoon with Carlos walking into the kitchen laughing away at something about something said on his phone made you realise you had never laughed that deeply while at work. You tried to push this aside but instead of focusing on your screen whenever Carlos roamed around the apartment you found yourself distracted and wishing you had what he had.

Carlos had noticed you watching him and liked the attention so slowly reduced him stepping into a separate room when a team call happened, passing it off as pacing through the call to help his fidgeting through the often hour long team meetings.

Not that you realised his change in schedule trying to be more visibly present during the working hours. What did garner your conscious attention was when Carlos mixed up his workout by doing his circuit in the living room, in full view if you looked in the mirrored tinting of the apartment windows.

It wasn’t until it happened in a team call when he had finished his session and moved to splash his face with water at the kitchen sink in front of you that you pieced together that it was all for his benefit and to boost his ego. Carlos’ will power was weaker than yours but you both had agreed to let your personal lives stay private for now, not letting them interact with your professional ones, at least where there was a video call.

Day 8 of quarantine was when news came in from the teams changing your plans about career separation. Carlos had been sent the additional contracts received from the FIA for Carlos to sign. Each of these had been printed out and placed in a thick white envelope dropped off with Carlos’ mail. These new forms were on top of his pre-existing McLaren contract and included race specific information all participants had to abide by in order to be allowed to race. Carlos had mentioned that this was the case for a few of the tracks in the past, but based on the size of the envelope it appeared all seemed to adopt this additional security policy in response to the pandemic.

Carlos was flicking through them one evening while you were reading next to him, where the quicker shuffling of papers grabbed your attention. Carlos was flipping between each of the contracts seemingly trying to find something in each. As he placed the last of the papers down, you asked him what was wrong. “The contracts, they’ve changed since I last spoke with the team about it” you had known these would be required, you’d overhead, it was hard not to eavesdrop when Carlos was on the phone. “What’s changed in them?” Carlos looked at you, stressed. “Some tracks won’t allow anyone to be present aside from essential personnel.” He pulled out some that he had separated from the pile

“July, August those races have no attendance” he spoke more to himself, “the races after then don’t have the same clause in the contracts barring personal team members”

You stood up to find where you had drawn out the rough calendar on the flight home, finding it and flattening it against your thigh as you sat back down.

“So the earliest one I might be able to be there with you is middle September, Tuscan Gran Prix.” Carlos looked over at you sadly in response. “At least I can see you race in Italy, that’d pretty cool”. But you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice.

Your plans were thwarted, September was months away still, it seemed an impossible barrier. The clause that had been placed in the contracts were dependent upon local authority directives. They had the power to change these requirements however the timing of which was unknown. You read through them and a few other clauses had been added, blanket in all, one regarding no public attendance, onsite quarantine procedures and even specific processes that had to be following when travelling between tracks.

The tension hang heavy in the air for the rest of the evening, making you long to be back at the Sainz’ home walking off the headache that had formed. Laying next to Carlos that evening he held you tightly trying to soothe you with gentle rubbing of his thumb across your shoulders. You slowly fell into a doze knowing that at least for now, you were safe in the arms of another. Carlos’ embrace stayed tight as the headache still pulsing settling you into a lighter sleep than normal.

It was you in the morning that woke up before Carlos normally, getting coffee ready for you both, setting down a cup on the bedside table next to him, letting the aroma wake him up whilst you took a shower before work.

It turned out that Carlos had been as restless as you, him only drifting to sleep in the early hours. His gentle unwrapping of his arms with yours roused you, you not opening your eyes in time to see him leave the bedroom but the muted click of the door against the jam and warm light spreading in at the gap of the floor was enough for the temporary calm from earlier dissipate.

You rolled over to check your phone but found the beside table empty, phone forgotten in the living room likely tucked underneath the contracts. Stupid pandemic you told yourself. Life would be better if it had never happened you thought but caught yourself. Would it really have been? You wouldn’t have had the opportunity to see Carlos as much as you had, let alone fall in love with him in not only one, but two countries? You wouldn’t have been able to see his relationship with his parents or even have had the chance for your relationship to grow into what it is now. Sure you would have gotten there eventually you had no doubt but knowing Carlos schedule it may have taken years instead of months.

You still hated the pandemic but recognised that the circumstances you had found yourself in had landed you a boyfriend and loving in-laws at a time when you knew you would have struggled more than you had if you had been isolated in your apartment far away from your family and friends from home.

You were going to try to roll back to sleep in the warmth left behind by Carlos’ absent body but as you did, you heard Carlos’ voice soft from the other room. You couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but as you strained to focus it was clear that whatever was being said was important, volume increasing and speed of speech quickening. When the volume reached a pitch that was clearly no longer a whisper you pulled the blankets off to see what was happening.

Carlos was standing facing the bedroom door. His face already held in surprise and it didn’t come from you joining him. He gestured you to come closer and once you were within arms distance, he pulled you in tight to his left side , right hand holding the phone. Carlos pulled the phone from his ear and hit speaker. What was being said wasn’t in English or Spanish, it was a different language and after a few more sentences you picked up it was Italian. Carlos responded back to the man on the other line ending the conversation. He waddled you both closer to the kitchen and put the phone down on the counter. With both his hands now free, he shifted you from a side hug, up into the air in front of him, feet lifted from the floor. His hands were tight on your upper arms and as he lifted you higher and began to spin you both in a circle. Whatever was said over the phone had put Carlos into what was the happiest mood you had seen him in weeks, happier than the blissful moments after you confessed your love to each other. As he began to deliriously laugh you couldn’t help but break into a smile, infecting you with his joy.

“What …” you started as he spun you round once more before putting you down and pulling you in closer for a kiss.

Drawing back and taking a breathe, Carlos said “I think we have a solution to our problem”. You don’t know what was said, clear bemusement and confusion across your face. Carlos pulled you to the couch and opened up his laptop, clicking to his emails, and opening one that according to the date had been sent and received early this morning just after 1am. Your eyes darted to the corner of the screen and saw it was close to 3 in the morning. Whatever was in this email was important, important enough to call about.

Carlos double clicked it and opened it up, twisting the laptop to you him indicating to you to read what he had pulled up. You couldn’t read much at all scrolling through to see if there was a translation at the bottom of the message like there commonly was in whole company communications you received from work. No such luck, the email was relatively brief with a few attachments at the top, all titled with Carlos’ full name and a set of numbers. You recognised Carlos’ address and details at the top of the letter format but beyond that couldn’t decipher what was said. What you did recognise was the logo on the top right hand of the letter, a bright yellow crest with a black horse reared on its hind legs in the centre.

You looked back to Carlos, “Ferrari ?” Was all you said to him. The grin re-emerged. “I was on the phone to Mattia Binotto, the Ferrari team principal, the negotiations have been finalised and they want to have me in their team” Carlos had divulged in his discussions about his career what he wanted to achieve many a time; to get a seat, to win a race, to win a championship but what he wanted just as much was to achieve that with Ferrari, and here it was, opportunity in front of him.

“Did you say yes?” You asked back knowing it was probably covered on the phone call. “I did and need to sign the negotiated contract” he pointed at the screen. You hadn’t know he was in negotiations with Ferrari and thought it was a goal he had further in his future. He had told you his contract with McLaren was only to the end of 2020 but beyond that hardly talked about it. You knew his industry moved at a speed that was opposite to your own but it still surprised you he was ticking off one of his ultimate career goals, in your mind, very soon in his career.

But here it was in front of you, Ferrari wanted Carlos and you knew nothing short of them asking him to chop off his own hands would stop him from donning red next year.

“Have you read the attachments yet?”

Carlos shook his head

“I saw the email and called Mattia straight away. I probably should have waited for Caco but wanted to let him know I had seen it and will respond after reading through everything.”

You gave him a pointed look, if you were Carlos’ manager you’d have wanted to be told first. Carlos didn’t even bother to look sheepish.

“I wanted to tell you first, if you hadn’t come out, I would have woken you up with the news” he was beaming with a sense of accomplishment, and even though you felt extremely proud of him that he had achieved his dreams, the thoughts from earlier creeped back in, jealous that he was able to be so happy with his career choices. You wanted it, that, to feel what Carlos was feeling. You nodded at Carlos as he pulled the laptop back towards him, clicking open the attachments reading them through slowly.

You mind was far away, Carlos had achieved something that was practically impossible , only 2 out of 20 which had then been whittled down could drive for Ferrari. If Carlos had such self believe and confidence in achieving that impossible dream, why couldn’t you?

Luckily the contract had come through early Saturday morning, relieving you from having to work with this career dilemma on your plate. You couldn’t even busy yourself with Carlos’ news and plans, he was in call after call with his manager and family to ensure that before he signed everything was correct, and with the excitement, your rudimentary Spanish couldn’t keep up to be of help or even to follow along.

Knowing work wouldn’t help you, and nor could Carlos, you sat down to try to articulate your feelings. You weren’t usually one for written planning, you had seen your sister do this whenever she felt unsure of what to do. You wrote out a three columned list, a pros, a cons and dreams about your job.

After the first few points were written, your thoughts flowed freely. You wrote down item after item and found that after the cons heavily outweighed the pros. You had expected that, the dissatisfaction and jealously you were feeling should never be there. Jealous was a feeling that happened to those too scared to be courageous you mum had said to you when you first were toying with the idea of moving abroad. Your thoughts soon spilled away from the columns, you filling line after line with broken thoughts, irritations, dreams. They quickly turned from jealousy, to something more self-reflective. You didn’t have the dream of being a formula one driver but it was the start of helping you try to work out what you wanted to do.

Carlos had walked back into the room filling a glass with water from the tap giving you a little wave before settling himself back on the couch. You were perched at the counter laptop open, albeit it screen blank with paper in front of you, he had assumed you were working.

You re-read your thought and looked to your dreams column. It was empty. You had never had the opportunity to have a dream job. Your familial situation was very middle class, enough to afford you a good education but it was through long hours by your parents and saving at all times. You had afforded the move with you company subsidising the moving costs, only leaving you with the rent and perishable costs once settled. Without that you wouldn’t have been able to even be here.

You looked at your dreams, and thought ok maybe not a dream career, but what are other dreams. You filling in the gap on the page To be happy To be healthy To have loving family and friends For them to be healthy To be fulfilled

It was the last one, you had all the above ones but how to be fulfilled? You didn’t know, you underlined the last item before pushing the paper away , tucking it near your other work gear, standing up and joining Carlos , him wrapping an arm around you while you tried to think of what does fulfilled look like?

Negotiations with Carlos and his manager and family lasted all weekend bleeding into Monday. Early Monday morning, Carlos had sent off the finalised paperwork, closing the lid of the computer looked up to you. “So” he started, “How I said we have a solution with you not being able to attend races ?”

Your gaze shifted from your document to him, he was still as happy as he was when the email had arrived, you thought ruefully again I wish I had that. “Yeah” you tried to hide the sour tone but it still emerged a little. “With me being with Ferrari next year, they have asked me to do a tour of the factory before their home race in September, in order to be welcomed to the team.”

You didn’t see how this was a solution

“And what I’ve received permission for is that, can I bring some family along” Carlos had a smirk forming. “They said they would be more than happy to, and that they will set aside a private area for family to watch the races”

It clicked, you could watch him.

“So it’s confirmed?” You hazarded. “They’ve said I can have four people with me, I’ve sent them your details, my fathers, mothers and another friend of mine who is currently living in Italy”

He was so happy, he gave you a kiss to the forehead and sliding off the counter said “it is working out for us, see” as he walked away from you to the other end of his house no doubt to keep planning about Ferrari or something.

You couldn’t keep it up, you had to do something about your career, jealously finally driving you to action. You stood up and followed Carlos out of the room.

He had his phone in his hand but paused dialling as you rounded the corner.

“Carlos, I need to talk to you”

Carlos’ face held its smile but shuttered up a little. “Of course” he said as closing the distance between you.

“I need to be honest with you. I’m so excited you’re signed with Ferrari, you’ve achieved your dream “Carlos nodded seeing where this was going.

As you had gone to sleep on Sunday, he had seen what you had been writing on, the paper left not too out of the way in the small kitchen. “Seeing you, get all this” you waved your arms around “The first thing I thought was ‘why not me’ and that scared me. I’ve always worked so hard and achieved everything I’ve had on my career goals, but I don’t know, seeing and hearing you interact with your work, you love it.” He went to start but you shook your head, not quite finished “I always thought I loved what I do, but after spending time with you and your family, I don’t think I actually do. I’m proud of what I’ve done and achieved but I don’t get the joy out of it like you do, the continued joy even after you’ve ticked a goal, the joy to achieve a different target” Carlos nodded, he knew he was lucky to find his life passion so young and have it the same as his career. He also knew it was not very common. He had seen his sisters cycle though job after job trying to find one they liked enough to stay in. Only one of them had found that so far, the other still searching.

He pulled you closer “you don’t have to stay in a job you don’t like Yn. Life is too short to be stuck in something that drains you. It ok to recognise that”

You heard what he said but as you opened up your mouth to continue explaining, a sob was released instead, you hadn’t known you’d held it in but now you had started you couldn’t stop “Let it out, that’s it cry it out” Carlos soothed, rubbing your back, shirt soaking with your tears.

You stayed like that until your tears stopped flowing and your breaths steadied.

“We have a few more days of quarantine, let’s use that to talk about your career yeah?” He said, hoping he wasn’t over stepping. You nodded into his chest.

You were torn, you wanted change but didn’t know what to do. That itself was the problem you and Carlos worked through. In your time remaining you researched at the end of each of your workdays listing out any possible path to pursue. What it did confirm is that you hadn’t realised so many options were open to you. Seeing Carlos put down options you had always thought were out of reach either financially or competitiveness for positions or jobs that simply didn’t exist when you last had a serious career discussion in the later years of high school made you think how narrow minded you had been.

Carlos was more supportive than you could have imagined, ultimately he wanted you to be happy and seeing you think though every option brought up was drawing a curious spark behind your eyes he hadn’t seen before. Planning future scenarios for you was bringing back a portion of your personality you had long stifled and Carlos coaxing it out you were feeling free. It was actually Carlos that had suggested the side step you would pursue. What you had decided to do was to stay in the general industry you were currently working in, but transition away from broad services into a more specialised sector, one focusing on your strength of energy transition of brown to green projects, but with a motorsports lens, a space that you had always enjoyed but never had the financial capacity to pursue. Carlos didn’t see this as an issue though. With his family long embedded into racing, they were better versed than most on the impact of their sport, by which the family had decided to partner to build a team to be entered into a new division focusing on electrical power rallying, with the aim to spread awareness of major environmental issues globally.

Carlos knew how involved his father was in developing the team, it even being a namesake to be eventually entered once given the green light after covid settled down. And he had to admit now that he had you in his life, he was looking at things differently, one of those being separated from you for extended periods of time. Both Carlos’ had discussed at length whilst in Spain your work and had pulled you into conversations too, switching from talking about the extreme e details to details of your career, which had a good overlap of technical and management experience. Over those long chess games Carlos senior had picked your brain but never asking too much to make you think beyond someone curious about someone’s job.

In one of his frequent calls back home to his parents, he had raised your situation and it was Carlos senior who interjected and said he would start seeing internally if he could find a job for you with his team, allowing you to stay close to the family in work if not physically at races. Something Carlos was proud about, was not asking you to give up your life for his. Which so far you hadn’t, but if you were considering leaving your job, it wasn’t beneath him to plant the seeds of working closer to you than previously was possible.

Your quarantine was coming to an end and with it your deadline to yourself on what to do next. You had decided that you would reduce your work days to part time, allowing you to one provide support to Carlos when his racing season started again, secondly to allow yourself to start seeing a careers counsellor or helping you to flesh out your transition out of your current job into what was next.

You and Carlos had decided to celebrate your final night of confinement with a celebratory dinner, decorating the house with the limited supplies Carlos had, majority of it comprising of paper chains strewn from the doorframes and across the windows.

As you both sat down Carlos poured himself a small glass of wine, his last he said, prior to the season starting. He small treat before the regime was enforced.

“I have some news to share” Carlos started, his body emulating confidence

You raised your glass in response waiting for him to carry on

“Look under the place setting”

You settled your glass of wine down and moved the plate and placemat to the side. Beneath was sitting a piece of paper folded in half, you name scribbled in slanted letters on top in Carlos’ handwriting. You looked up at him and he was still looking at you intently. You opened the paper up and it was a print out of an email message received earlier during the day addressed between Carlos and the McLaren team principal. It read that Carlos had been granted permission for you to attend with him all of the races as part of his personal team, without the limitations placed on the track specific contracts.

You quickly read through again to make sure you hadn’t misread anything, and Carlos was still smiling at you.

“If you would like to attend all the races, you’re able to”

You had considered this, further time away to see if you could find perspective. And now here was the opportunity, literally in front of you, barriers removed.

You picked up your glass “I think I do”

Clarifying you added “I think I’m going to take extended leave to decide what I want, who knows maybe I’ll bump into someone following you around.” That’s exactly what Carlos had hoped for, your career so far was similar to his in similar industries, it was how you met after all, he was sure that once you got talking, you’d be able to find an opportunity. He believed not only would luck be on your side but your charisma too.

He clinked his glass lightly against yours in recognition and agreement to you taking up the plan to travel with him. You weren’t just excited for quarantine to end but were excited for now being able to clear your mind for the next.

#carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr x yn #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 imagine #f1 driver x you

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hmslusitania · 21 days

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @littlespoonevan!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

83!

2. What’s your total word count on AO3?

885,673

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently just DC and Star Wars (if you are looking at my ao3 going “i dont see Star Wars??” its wips. Its all wips)

4. Top five fics by kudos

- Leave the Light On

- I Didn’t Know I Was Lonely ‘Til I Saw Your Face

- Close My Eyes and Stumble

- Half Awake in Our Fake Empire

- Don’t Take the Money

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do when it’s a fic I’m still excited about! Especially ones I’m actively posting

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

I’m… not sure I ever let anything end on an angsty ending?

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

Probably Leave the Light On just by contrast with everything that came before the end

8. Do you get hate on fics?

For about ten.7 seconds I was writing fic for Once Upon a Time and it is the only time I’ve ever gotten hate on fics and i removed said fics from ao3 and don’t write in that fandom anymore

9. Do you write smut?

The answer to this question used to be “no haha well maybe like every once in a while” but like. Considering I posted an E rated chapter this very morning, I cannot equivocate about that anymore

10. Craziest crossover?

That I won’t ever finish? The one time @starry-eyed-guttersnipe and I wrote part of a 9-1-1/Fringe fusion fic. That I’m actively working on? DC/Star Wars and I am having So much fun

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Several times yeah! I think that’s neat

13. Have you ever Co-written a fic?

Working on one right now!

14. All time favourite ship?

It’s physically impossible for me to answer this

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

I started a Star Wars alternate timeline fic like two years ago and I think about it a lot because the main point of the plot ended up being, uh, the main point of the plot of Jedi: Survivor so like… it got weird to work on lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m good with dialogue and character

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Transitions

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Depends on the language and the context

19. First fandom you wrote in?

H*rry P*tt*r

20. Fave fics you’ve written?

Like Any Unloved Thing

Weakened Like Achilles

Gotham Honest, Anyway (the last chapter of which goes up tomorrow morning)

Tagging anyone who wants to do it and also specifically @rhysiana and @sonseulsoleil

#tag games

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year

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A Mouse in a Lion’s Den Pt.7

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister Warnings: Tywin being a terrible father Words: 2432 Summary: Rhaegar deals with immense regret. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

“Look at you.” You remember Cersei’s vindictive sneer. What harm had you caused her? None. “No man will ever want you as their wife.”

Why though?

What made you so unlovable?

Why were you always someone’s second choice?

They gawked at you, unable to believe what you had just said while Rhaegar looked at you; sadness in those crystal pools of lilac. You don’t wait for anyone’s reply. You never expected one.

Swallowing down whatever lump had formed in your throat, you let your anger make you hard and unwavering. Gaze hardened as the steel of your brother’s sword. Even he looks at you with surprise, uncertain of what to do. You weren’t much sure what to do yourself. What was your next step?

“Take me to my room Jaime, please.” Your whisper was much louder in that cell filled with deceased beasts that once scorched Westeros.

“O-Of course. . .” Jaime nodded and held out his arm for you to hold. You stare at it for a second before turning your head away and brushing past the other guards and Rhaegar.

“(y/n).” The Silver Prince of Westeros tried to get you to look at him. You were done though. Done with doting upon men who would never truly return your affections. There was nothing more for you with Rhaegar. He had utterly broken your heart. You weren’t stupid enough to stay knowing he loved someone else.

Even though your heart ached to look at him one last time, your devastation keeps your resolution solid as you walk out of that room.

“What do you mean you’re not going to marry him?” Lord Tywin asks with a clenched voice. You notice the tendons in his throat pop out and the firm line of his jaw.

You fold your hands in front of you. Even your anger that had been fueling you was no match against Tywin’s own unbridled fury that threatened to plow over you. The courage and strength you felt earlier was completely gone as you cowered underneath your father’s intimidating glare. “I don’t want to marry Rhaegar anymore. . .”

He runs a hand over his face before returning his glare to you. “Have you lost your mind?! You put me through all of this humiliation just for you to change your mind. You are not going to shame the Lannister name further by breaking off your engagement to the future King of Westeros.”

“But-”

Tywin slams his hands down on the desk that sat between the two of you making you jump and inch away from him. “Your wedding is to be in two days. You will go through with the wedding and marry him.”

Your father hated the Targaryens. Yet he hated more the idea of you ruining your family’s reputation.

“I can’t. . . He doesn’t love me.”

That made him scoff and look at you like you were a petulant child. “Love? You’re still a naive child.” Tywin shakes his head. “Love has nothing to do with arranged marriages.”

“You. . . You loved mother though. And that was an arranged marriage.”

It was well known that Tywin and Joanna Lannister had been very much in love, which in itself was unheard of in arranged marriages.

“Don’t be ignorant enough to think that that is the case for every arranged marriage.” He stands up and heads toward your bedroom door. “You’re going through with that marriage (y/n).”

You didn’t dare ask what would happen if you didn’t. Head hanging low you hear your door open then slam shut, making the walls tremble.

You couldn’t though.

You wouldn’t.

If you had to you would flee. Leave the Red Keep and leave the Lannister family.

But where would you go?

You had nowhere and no one to turn to. The little trust you had in Jaime was dashed out the window when you saw him and his twin sister together last night. You had no friends except for Rhaella and she was more so of a motherly figure and all the way at Dragonstone. Pregnant and unable to help you. And poor little Tyrion could do nothing to help you.

You were alone.

Fingers curl into your palm as you curl in on yourself. Anger was gone. All that was left was sorrow. Immense grief that swallowed you and tainted what once was so young and innocent. You had been a bright eyed fool in love. You still were. What was there to do now. It had always been a bad idea to tell Tywin that you didn’t want to marry Rhaegar. He wouldn’t take that from one of his least favorite children.

“What does that little twit think she’s doing?!” Cersei throws her arms up in the air. “She can’t truly be that stupid! Breaking off an engagement to Rhaegar Targaryen? Passing up the chance to be Queen of Westeros?” She scoffs bitterly and turns her back to Jaime as she continues on her tirade. “Rhaegar is far too good for her. Now she’ll just be lucky enough to get some insignificant lordling as a husband.”

Everyone had noticed the absence of both Rhaegar and (y/n) at dinner that evening. Whispers and murmurs had filled the dinner table and was probably more enticing than the food they were consuming. Of course Tywin looked every bit as ashamed as ever before. It was scandalous in the court once word had spread, which didn’t take too long. Like wildfire.

“Come now Cersei, that’s quite enough. (y/n) must’ve had her reasons.” Jaime tried to bring reason to the whole entire thing. It nagged him, something terrible must’ve happened between the two for (y/n) to break off the wedding. (y/n) had been so in love with Rhaegar, sickeningly so in Jaime’s view. He wanted to get down to what had happened. Jaime wanted to ask (y/n), but she refused to see anyone and he didn’t want to push her away.

Laughing with scorn, Cersei turns narrowed green eyes to her twin brother. “I’d like to hear those reasons! Does she not realize that she will never get anyone as good as Rhaegar? She’s humiliating our family. Our parents should’ve just stopped having children after us. (y/n) and Tyrion are shameful.”

He clenches his jaw at that. He loved Tyrion. He loved (y/n). He didn’t like it when anyone talked down about them, not even his beloved Cersei. Thinking of someone saying that about his sweet sister. . . That smiling, love sick girl that was so full of hope. That girl that would follow after him when they were younger like a lost puppy. Wanting nothing but love and craving attention. “Enough Cersei.”

She raises an eyebrow, surprised that Jaime dared to disagree with her. Oh, she knew of the soft spot he had for Tyrion. “Jaime, you know it’s true.”

“No it’s not.” He insists. “They have never done anything wrong.”

“Except having existed! Do you not remember what that misfigured thing did to our mother?! And (y/n)-”

Jaime slams a fist into the wall startling Cersei.

She stares at him with large eyes that were shadowed with disbelief. “What has gotten into you?”

He knew he shouldn’t say it. It would pierce Cersei too deeply. But he was angry and had no control of his tongue. “Y0u only hate her because she was mother’s favorite.”

Anger flared her cheeks and sharpened her glare. Half afraid that she would attack him, Jaime takes a subtle step back and matches her glare.

Even now he had to admit that Cersei was still beautiful even when she was frothing at the mouth and had the fires of hell in her eyes.

“Get out.” She hisses.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Jaime threw open the door and stormed out. Maybe if she hadn’t said anything bad about (y/n) he wouldn’t have said that. It was a wound that Cersei kept with her. A wound that had been deepened when Joanna Lannister bequeathed all of her jewelry to (y/n) in her will. Beautiful gems that cost a fortune. Gems that Cersei had always loved when her mother wore them. They made her look even more regal than she already was. Cersei admired the great beauty her mother possessed. The fact that Joanna had left everything to (y/n), her second daughter, had wounded Cersei deeply. It was just another sign of how much more Joanna loved (y/n) more than Cersei.

Before Jaime even knew it himself, he was right outside of (y/n)’s door. He hadn’t even been aware of his venture to his younger sister’s quarters. All he had felt was his angry haze. Immediately it melted away when he heard soft sobbing coming from the other side of the door. Jaime felt utterly helpless at the sound. Something he wasn’t necessarily used to feeling.

Instead of lingering in that feeling he replaces it with anger, an emotion he knew all too well. Better than the hopeless feeling that had been plaguing him. He turned it into anger toward Rhaegar. This was his fault after all. Everything was Rhaegar Targaryen’s fault.

Fingernails bite into his palm as he tears himself away from (y/n)’s door.

Normally Rhaegar wasn’t one to partake in any drinks that might dilute his cognitive thinking. He’d make an exception for now. He needed something to numb the remorse and pain he was feeling at that moment. How he hated himself.

Over and over, Rhaegar replayed the image of (y/n) glaring at him with such hatred, with such heartbreak, and the moment she uttered the she no longer wanted to marry Rhaegar. She had been in love with him. Rhaegar was certain of that now more than ever. He had crushed her like some kind of twig underneath his boot. How callus he had been with his feelings when he should’ve remembered all along that he had an adorable fiance that always greeted him with a warm smile. A warmth that had always been a welcome to him, something that made his bones buzz with gentleness and a need to protect her. He failed at that though. He had hurt her more than any sword could ever have. And all for what? A passing fancy with a cold northerner who was already betrothed.

Rhaegar groaned, tossing back another cup full of wine. This was all his fault. Nothing could repair the immense damage that he had done. He glances at his harp; no, he doubted not even serenading the heart broken maid would do much good. Griff had tried to console him, tell him it was better this way. Now he didn’t have an obligation to marry (y/n). It wasn’t until then, until (y/n) no longer wanted him, did Rhaegar realize that he genuinely did want to marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Wanted her to have his children and rule Westeros by his side. All of this came too late though.

What good were any of his regrets now?

Sullenly he looks out of his window to the already darkened sky.

He made sure that (y/n) was nice and warm before taking her by the hand and leading her out of the stony castle of Dragonstone and out to the sandy beach as the gentle waters lapped against the shore. The stars were mirrored on the water’s surface. So incredibly picturesque that even Rhaegar stood still at the scene and stared in awe. It was beautiful. He regretted his departure back to King’s Landing. Leaving the relaxing air of Dragonstone and leaving his little mouse again.

(y/n) holds onto his hand as he leads her carefully down the large stones that lead to the softness of the sand. Her steps were light as she ever so cautiously kept watch of her footing. The night breeze swept her hair back and out of her face.

“I wish you didn’t have to go. Who knows when the next time your father will let you come back.” She murmurs, finally making it down safely.

Yes, Rhaegar hated leaving as well. Especially since it seemed every time he left and returned, (y/n) seemed to have grown even more into a young lady. A beautiful young lady at that who was unaware of her own innocent charm. Rhaegar knew though that she was safer at Dragonstone than at King’s Landing by his side. She would be a target for those who opposed Aerys’ rule. The Targaryens no longer had dragons to impose their rule upon the people. No dragons to cause fear and render them silent. All that was left was Aerys’ madness and that only garnered scorn and resentment toward the Mad King.

Rhaegar gently pulled (y/n) toward him, catching that shy blush of her’s that was so endearing to him. He readjusted the wool shawl around her shoulders, making sure she was warm. “Haven’t you heard? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, little mouse. You’ll see, the time will go by quickly as always.”

She says nothing, not quite satisfied with his answer, and turns her head up to gaze at the stars that winked down at them. A small smile graces her lips. “Wouldn’t it be great to fly among the stars? So high up that you can touch them?”

“One would need to be careful otherwise who may know if you’ll ever come back down.” Rhaegar muses, sitting down on the sand and making sure his harp was in perfect tune. She plops down next to him, a little less graceful as he had, and curls her knees up to her chest.

(y/n) leans a little bit back, just enough to stretch her back. A little ashamed with himself he quickly averts his gaze when he catches himself looking at her womanly chest. Internally scolding himself, he tries to distract any thoughts with plucking at the harp’s strings. (y/n) closes her eyes at the sound.

It had been a perfect moment. Everything was still except for the gentle sloshing of the waves and the sounds coming from Rhaegar’s harp. It was a moment that Rhaegar often called back on when he was alone in King’s Landing. Sweet, simple, moments spent with his sweet mouse.

Yet now all of that was ruined.

(y/n) wanted nothing to do with him.

He had ruined something so beautiful for even entertaining the thought of being with someone he could never have. If only he could’ve opened his eyes and let himself acknowledge the young woman that (y/n) had become.

What was he to do now?

--------

TAGLIST:

@esposadomd

#game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #Game of Thrones fandom #ASoIaF #asoiaf fandom #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf reader insert #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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monstraduplicia · 1 year

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daddy's little girl he broke in thirty: a dean winchester mix

1. abuse me - silverchair 2. adam raised a cain - bruce springsteen 3. alcohol - sisyphus 4. alibis - marianas trench 5. animals - nickelback 6. anyone who knows what love is (will understand) - irma thomas 7. black-eyed - placebo 8. blown wide open - big wreck 9. blunt force concussion - the dirty nil 10. break me - mcfly 11. burn & shine - the posies 12. call of the playground - shudder to think 13. carry that weight - the beatles 14. christian brothers - heatmiser, elliott smith 15. colossus - idles 16. coward's son - the ballroom thieves 17. daddy - korn 18. daddy's daughter - merricat crellin 19. damage control - the dirty nil 20. degenerate - the jesus and the mary chain 21. the devil you know (god is a man) - face to face 22. discipline - nine inch nails 23. don't let the sun catch you cryin' - jeff buckley 24. the drowners - suede 25. father - the front bottoms 26. father and son - cat stevens 27. father figure - george michael 28. father of mine - everclear 29. feel the pain - dinosaur jr 30. fiddle about - the who 31. forgiven - alanis morissette 32. fortunate son - creedence clearwater revival 33. freak - silverchair 34. friends in the sky - the dirty nil 35. fuckin' up young - the dirty nil 36. ghost - sky ferreira 37. girls - the dare 38. good boy - patriarchy 39. hang yer moon - the dirty nil 40. hard times - ethel cain 41. he needs me - shelley duvall 42. i burn - toadies 43. i know it's over - the smiths 44. i'm with you - avril lavigne 45. i need somebody - the stooges 46. infra-red - placebo 47. i woke up in a strange place - jeff buckley 48. judge yr'self - manic street preachers 49. last night i dreamt that somebody loved me - the smiths 50. life becoming a landslide - manic street preachers 51. lightsabre cocksucking blues - mclusky 52. loverboy - you me at six 53. low self opinion - rollins band 54. monster side - addict 55. moodswing whiskey - jeff buckley 56. mr. self destruct - nine inch nails 57. nancy boy - placebo 58. o death - rhiannon giddens, francesco turris 59. oh comely - neutral milk hotel 60. pain - four star mary 61. papa was a rodeo - the magnetic fields 62. please hurt me - the crystals 63. please please please let me get what i want - the smiths 64. prayer - big wreck 65. pretension//repulsion - manic street preachers 66. renegade - styx 67. runnin' with the devil - van halen 68. samarians - idles 69. send the pain below - chevelle 70. sex and violence - the exploited 71. the shining - badly drawn boy 72. simple man - deftones 73. slab - silverchair 74. song against sex - neutral milk hotel 75. story of isaac - leonard cohen 76. (they long to be) close to you - carpenters 77. thoroughfare - ethel cain 78. a trophy fathers trophy son - sleeping with sirens 79. two-headed boy - neutral milk hotel 80. two-headed boy pt. 2 - neutral milk hotel 81. unloveable - the smiths 82. wanted man - ratt 83. the weight - the band 84. western nights - ethel cain 85. what will you say - jeff buckley 86. whipping post - allman brothers band 87. you are a runner and i am my father's son - wolf parade 88. you can't always get what you want - the rolling stones 89. your flesh is so nice - jeff buckley 90. youth gone wild - skid row

#dean winchester #a lot of these are dean/john and sam/dean inspired btw #also i frequently add to my playlists so this is far from the final track listing #mine #mix

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 11 months

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Season 2 Rewatch Drabbles--2x14 Manhattan

Summary: A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my rewatch of season 2 of Once Upon a Time as an attempt to finally jump start the muse again. There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season. Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on the very beginnings of Captain Swan’s epic love story, as soon as a certain dashing pirate makes his appearance.

Word Count: 482

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (15) (16) (17) (17.5) (18) (19) (20) (21-22) (22)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Note: After watching this episode again, I once again have the strongest urge to force Neal to walk barefoot across a room full of legos and rusty nails. The following fic shows you exactly why.

“I get it,” Neal said with a patronizing smirk, “we’re all messed up. Let’s just try not to pass that on to Henry, okay?”

Emma nodded and dropped her eyes, emotionally collapsing in on herself as she watched him climb out onto the fire escape to talk to their son. Suddenly she felt small, unimportant, petty. Suddenly she was that unloved, emotionally stunted seventeen year old again.

For years after her arrest she’d hoped and dreamed of the moment she’d see Neal again, hoped he’d come back for her, hoped there was some reasonable explanation for why he’d left her, why he’d set her up for his crimes.

But as the years passed without even a word from him, that hope had died. She decided she really should thank him. He’d taught her a valuable lesson: that you’ve got to look out for yourself, never let anyone in. She’d built the walls that had protected her for the past decade, and she was stronger for it.

So imagine her shock when she’d successfully run down Gold’s long lost son this afternoon, only to discover that son was Neal.

She’d wanted to hate him on sight; wanted to throw in his face how much he’d hurt her, wanted to at least show him she was over him, over it all, but she couldn’t. As soon as she saw him, she realized she’d never stopped loving him. She’d never gotten closure, and so, she’d never moved past being that lonely seventeen year old who’d wanted so desperately to be loved that she’d soaked up every scrap of affection Neal gave her like the parched ground when it finally got rain.

Emma had agreed to have a drink with him, finally asking him for the truth. When he gave it to her, she wished he hadn’t.

“Did you know who I was when we met?”

“If I had, I wouldn’t have gone near you.”

“You left me and let me go to prison because Pinocchio told you to?”

She’d left, her heart shattered all over again.

And then he’d returned to his apartment, and everything had hit the fan. She’d had to come clean to Henry about his father, and the betrayal in her kids’ eyes had nearly destroyed her. She knew what this kind of betrayal felt like, and she was damn well NOT going to let Neal further hurt her boy.

She’d tried to stand up to Neal, tried to show him one last time how much he’d hurt her, tried to give him one last chance to apologize–or at least explain, but what she’d gotten instead was condescension and a chiding about being petty with regard to their son.

Maybe Neal was right. Maybe she still was nothing more than that unloved teenager who’d never be worth a damn as a girlfriend, as a mother, or even as a human being.

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#once upon a time #once upon a time rewatch drabbles #2x14 manhattan #emma swan #anti-swanfire

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marvellouslymadmim · 6 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag, @andordean

Tagging @room-on-broom @cassiopeiasara @tiffanyachings @nellectronic and whomever else wants to do it!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

Ninety five.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

1,840,502 (and counting...)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently? The Witcher. I do have a few other WIPs for other fandoms but we'll see if they ever see the light of day. Previous fandoms include The Worst Witch 2019, Criminal Minds, plus a few one-shots in a few other fandoms. But those are the big ones.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Pearl Diving (hells yeah the Lesbians win again), A Night with the Queen, Veiled Truths, Chaos Thy Name is Circe, Survival Skills.

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

Almost always...mainly because I feel extremely guilty if I don't (so if you have ever commented and didn't get a reply in return, don't worry. I still remember. It haunts me.) but also because I genuinely love geeking out with fellow fans. I legitimately have made some amazing friends (and also met the love of my life!) through conversations that started simply through fic comments.

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

Oof...I definitely went through an angst phase so there are plenty of contenders. The Hunter's Remorse (24), Cassandra's Lament, The Unknown Known (both Battlestar Galactica), Walking Dictionary (Criminal Minds), Heart to Ashes to Stone (Game of Thrones), Long May We Reign (Reign), and Orbis Incognitus (The Walking Dead)

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

All That Glitters, Veiled Truths, Monstrous, pretty much anything I've written since about 2018ish.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

oh god. once, yes. in the Criminal Minds fandom. Granted, I pulled a surprise cliffhanger that, looking back, I would have breadcrumbed more--but I got SO MANY PEOPLE on ffnet screaming at me and generally being abusive because I *dared* to put a character in danger. it genuinely upset me so much that I stopped writing for a long time.

9. Do you write smut?

Absofuckinglutely.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I think once or twice? But I'm more of an AU kinda gal.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. But I did have someone lift very specific ideas from my fic (i.e. an AU where a certain character was given a very specific nickname and occupation, which another author then took and used in their own AU), and ngl, it made me feel hella weird. For the record, I wouldn't have minded it if they had simply put in the author's notes: "hey this idea was inspired by Mim, in her fic xyz". I didn't need them to come formally ask for permission or anything like that. But to see it in the wild and see readers commenting on their "originality" really put me off that writer as a person tbh (granted they're sus af for entirely other (worse) reasons too so this only solidified my feelings).

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of. I have had readers who weren't fluent in English run my fics through translators for Arabic and French, which I thought was hella cool.

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

I don't think so? Honestly don't remember.

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

God. ALL TIME? Idk. I do love me a dynamic of "A thinks they're unlovable and B is the most patient and loving person alive", so definitely ships like Hackle and Cal/Eist are my top faves.

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

Some of my old Criminal Minds stuff.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Pridefulness over my characterization. And also...I am a fucking calathea of mental health and creativity. Everything must be *just so* or I cannot write. No messy house, no loud noises, no stress, no sickness, no dishes in the sink, no work emails to answer, NADA. Otherwise we shrivel up and die. Fun stuff.

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

I have, and knowing my insane ass, I most likely will again. Sometimes it's just fun. But ya gotta actually know the language and be 1000% certain about what you're saying.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh god. I think it was Cats. Yes. The musical.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is like asking a mother which child is her favorite 😅 I have a different relationship with each story, and love them each equally but in totally different ways. I will say that my favorites to re-read for comfort myself are: All That Glitters, Veiled Truths, Monstrous, and A Night with the Queen.

#20 questions #let's play!#fic writer questions #fic writer

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mutable-manifestation · 1 year

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The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 21

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Part 21!

So this kinda got long. I wouldn't be able to fit the explanation part without posting off of my ao3 schedule. Also the chapter would be, like, way longer than the ~2K I've been aiming for.

So! Here's this, and I'm gonna try to post the explanation-scene as a separate chapter on Thursday or Friday. (It'll probably be big on its own anyway).

Info: Self-concept upon death hugely impacts ghost form, and Sam & Tucker expected white hair bc of Danny. So by the time Jazz became a ghost (read: Died) it was just an expectation that white hair and green eyes would be a part of that.

(Danny's own palette swap is an effect of his beliefs about what happens when things burn [white to black] and bleach in heat [black to white - like the flag on the moon]. White hair being associated with stress/death, green eyes because green was all he could see, etc. Just a lot of jumbled, morbid, last-minute thoughts while he was dying combined with pre-existing, subconscious beliefs about life and death.)

Jason's form is his exact form from when he died - minus all the injuries and plus the full-white eyes (not just normal eyes behind a domino mask - I know that varies by version for some robins. This is full-whites. They do still turn green when he's angry tho)

***

Jason only realized he’d been tricked after they finally called it a draw.

For all a snowball fight barely counted as a fight, he certainly felt calmer after getting some of his energy out.

He’d been so distracted enjoying himself he hadn’t even thought of using the chaos to bolt - not that he would have anyway, given he still didn’t know where to find a portal home.

The girl flits in front of him just in time for him to catch his breath.

“Nice to meet you,” She holds out a hand, grin as exuberant as it had been throughout the game - minus the feral tinge of competitiveness.

“I’m Danielle,” she offered as he shook the proffered hand. “But call me Elle - or Dani with an i if you want to mess with someone.”

The mischief on her face at the suggestion made him think she’d done so before.

She almost certainly already knew his name, but not telling her himself would be rude - a death sentence if they really were fae. Still, that she hadn’t prompted him should make it safer. Maybe.

(If the initial kidnapping was permitted by Danny hearing his name then he certainly didn’t hear a prompt from him, but who knows if inaudible whispers count. At least he can see that Danielle’s mouth hasn’t moved)

(Not like he isn’t already kidnapped anyway. What’ll they do, double kidnap him?)

“Jason,” he says as he disengages from the handshake, smiling genuinely despite himself.

(And he meant to smile, he did - he’d read enough stories to know how important being polite to the fae is; one wrong word and you’re 15 ribs shy of a full skeleton. Or a brother shy of a full family. It was half the reason he’d spoken as little as he had - but he hadn’t meant for it to be real)

“I’m sure Danny told you aaaaaall about me already, and yes, I really am that cool.”

Danielle - Elle - breaks Jason out his mental spiral. He just manages to smother his laugh with a cough.

“Ah, the tour actually got kind of off track, so I hadn’t had a chance to mention you yet.”

Elle gasps dramatically, putting both hands over her heart and flopping to the ground at Danny’s proclamation.

“Oh, I am wounded! I am shattered! I am abandoned and unloved!-” Danny laughs “-I am filing a formal complaint! I am requisitioning forms to have my darling emotional support Panther, Palu, moved to the Palace-”

“You- Emotio-WHAT!?” Danny reels back, expression horrified.

Elle floats up to sit a foot off the ground, arms and legs both crossed. She glares at him for about 5 seconds before sticking out her tongue and grinning.

“I’m kidding, you big chicken.”

“She ate my cape made with Actual Stars, Elle.”

Elle laughs at Danny’s clear relief and the following pout. Jason himself fails to suppress a snort.

“Well,” Danny huffs, turning to Wulf. “While these two are busy laughing at my expense, I wanted your opinion on something.”

He gestures to a more distant tree with his eyes, and Wulf follows as he floats away - probably aiming for out of earshot.

Elle abandons her laughter to float upright just in front of him - the floating equivalent of standing, he supposes.

“Anyway, like I said, I’m Elle. Long story short Danny’s ex-arch-nemesis who shall not be named wanted to adopt Danny and handled the ‘no’ really poorly and tried to clone him. I was the only surviving clone, and after trying to kill Danny on said manipulative ex-nemesis’ orders he managed to change my mind about said nemesis, helped stabilize me, and eventually ended up adopting me.” She said, in the most nonchalant manner possible, which, wow, the story really did not call for.

Jason desperately wants to know the long version.

“Sooo…” she drawls, smile gaining a teasing edge, “I guess you can actually just call me big sis.”

She laughs at his suddenly blank expression.

“No? How about ‘best big sister ever?’ Oh! Oh! Or ‘Coolest big sister in the Realms?’ Get it? Cuz ice powers.”

She flits around him as she speaks, wiggling her fingers and loosing a few flakes of snow at the last bit for emphasis, giggling.

Jason isn’t sure how to respond without insulting her somehow.

To any of that, really.

“Never expected to have a baby brother,” she muses, “but then with how readily he adopted me despite my origins I guess it isn’t all that surprising. Especially with you being a halfa and all. We’re really rare, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Or maybe not - you are only like a week old, technically.”

“I’m 22,” he corrects, unbelievingly.

She snorts.

“In human years, maybe.”

And hey. Wow. Jason is not a fan of that.

(Yes, he’s glowing. Yes, he’s visibly de-aged 7 years. No, he has not accepted any of the potential implications that has regarding his human-ness.)

Jason has roughly 100 more questions after her little info-dump than he did before.

Before he can debate risking those rib bones, what can only be one of the infamous ‘eyeballs’ shows up.

It sure is an eyeball, just one giant eye takes up most of its head, but for the thin green outline that connects to the rest of its body - only seen by the matching green of its hands, which themselves bear off-puttingly long claws.

It is also wearing quite possibly the most pretentious robes he has ever laid eyes on.

This coming from someone who grew up watching Brucie Wayne play air headed, carefree rich boy like it was his true calling - the man had a designer collection of dramatic robes to greet unexpected late-evening guests with.

“Phantom.”

“Greg.”

“That is not my name.”

By the terse greetings and short follow-up, this was a common exchange.

The eyeball - Greg, why not - turned its eye on Jason just then.

For all its size, the eye moved just as fast as a normal one. The motion was wrong in some indefinable way; grotesque to see. He did his best not to react, cautious of setting the being off; this one seemed more volatile than those he’d met thus far.

Despite the lack of a facial expression, Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was being sneered at.

Thankfully its attention on him was brief, turning back to address Elle after only a beat.

“If you are quite finished shirking your duties to play in the snow, the Valhallan representative is waiting to speak with you.”

“What??? He isn’t supposed to be here for another hour,” Elle questioned, brown pinched.

“It has been an hour, Phantom.”

He floats to her side to point towards the palace.

“If you would be so kind, I would like to get this over with.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Elle groans, drifting slowly in that direction despite the apparent distaste, “Can’t you just watch from your lair like Clocky always does?”

“You know very well that matters of exceptional import and tumultuous path selection require personal observation in order to maintain timeline coherency. All royal meetings for-”

“‘-at least the next three weeks fit the criteria.’” Elle makes air quotes as she speaks, turning to face Greg while still floating towards the palace, backwards.

“I know, I know. Blah blah regulation, blah blah timelines, blah blah paperwork. Heard it. Got it. Thanks.” She concludes with an eyeroll, before looking back at him.

“Have fun with the rest of the tour!” she yells, smiling and waving as if she was already a mile away. “Make sure Danny shows you the map rooms!”

And then she turns and zooms away.

He can sense the faintest bit of rage coming from Greg, and he barely hears the muttered ‘Insufferable abomination’ before the…guy?...eye… follows suit.

He watches until the eye disappears into the building.

At which point he hears a small sigh from beside him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin in startlement, whipping his head around to find Danny floating placidly by his side, saluting into the distance.

“Good luck, Elle,” he says mournfully, “Rip to your good mood.”

“That bad?” Jason asks, resettling his nerves.

Danny snorts.

“The Observants always make everything either as boring as they can or as difficult as they can. It could be worse though; the Valhallans are a party people so it should balance out. Best case scenario they’ll spend the end of the meeting annoying ‘Greg’-” he adds air quotes at this, grinning, “-together.”

‘The Observants must be the eyeballs then,’ Jason thinks. ‘The name is a bit on the nose…or eye.’

“Anyway!” Danny twists and drifts to float in front of him. “We’ve got another hour or so before dinner; ready to get back to the tour?”

Jason opens his mouth, then pauses.

He takes a glance around and asks “Where is Wulf?”

“Oh, he’s off picking up a preorder - Volume 15 of, uh…something? I don’t remember the name. But don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few hours.”

And wow, the promise that Wulf isn’t just hovering unseen in the background does a lot to untense muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.

“Right. Sure, tour away.”

He held in his questions, for all that he was bursting at the seams for answers.

Because really: Clone? Archnemesis??? Was this a hero-villain thing or a fae politics thing? Cloning generally wasn’t a thing heroes did, but kidnapping wasn’t either.

What did Elle mean by ‘Halfa?’ Or technically a week old???

Also: brother? Adopted? There’s no way, right?

Being yanked off of the streets of Crime Alley by some dude living in a veritable castle to be adopted with little to no explanation was not something that happened to people twice.

Let alone when he is, in fact, a grown-ass man.

----------------------

The next section they visit is Elle’s, located close to the final tower on the same side as the Specters’ had been.

The first room is filled with complex ice sculptures - a panther the size of a horse, a normal-sized cat, a few of the yetis, a kid in a pirate garb with a parrot, a girl covered in…Lunch Boxes? Danny, Jazz, and Spike were scattered among more unfamiliar statues.

They take their time in this room, Danny pointing to a lot of the people depicted and giving him names to go with faces - he even recognizes a few of them from earlier parts of the tour, and makes sure to commit them all to memory.

Then came the rooms that looked like a cosmopolitan’s dream collection.

A room dedicated to world maps through the ages - little groups of similarly-aged maps slowly orbited each other in globe-like patterns while newer versions and even a few of alien worlds lined the walls.

At least 3 rooms are dedicated to photos from all around the world - he spotted the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, the Congo from above, the Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls - plenty of well-known tourist locations, as well as a wide variety of nature shots. The nature shots took up an entire floor-width room, and were arranged to transition from one biome to the next.

The next room is full of souvenirs; postcards, foods from around the world frozen in more of that crystal-clear ice, weapons, clothing, jewelry - a little bit of everything.

Another swift pass-through - and by, since one of them was occupied - of the meeting, sitting, and nap rooms has them finally arrive at the room that was probably the reason Elle said ‘map rooms’ and not just ‘room.’

It was domed like an observatory, but instead of the night sky it showed that infinite green.

Different sections zoomed in and out, just slowly enough to take in. The room is scattered with cushions and telescopes aimed up. At the very center stands some kind of machine, spitting out paper which, when he floats over to look at it, reveals a single, ever-growing map.

“Elle is obsessed with travel,” Danny says fondly. “She was away more often than not at first, but then she got the idea to map the Realms - a map that can be referenced rather than a single ‘take me where I ask you to’ artifact.”

He floats up towards the dome as he speaks.

“It might seem pointless with how much paper an infinite amount of realms will take to map, but the mechanism feeds the map data into a computer that sends everything to be incorporated into Tucker and Technus’ Zone Map App. It updates constantly, what with the fluctuations in the Zone, but it’s always improving.”

“Fluctuations?” Jason asks, processing the ‘infinite amount of realms’ remark.

“Think of it like space; there’s gravity against the constant growth of the universe. The zone expands and contracts, like the flow of a tide. Except it’s moving in all directions instead of just the two.

But it expands more than it contracts, and just like on the sea or in space things can drift closer together or farther apart. Following specific streams can help, but only so much. Reliable navigation was pretty hard to come by before Elle, Tuck, and Technus started working on this.”

“Impressive,” Jason says softly.

And it is. The thought of mapping a veritable ocean with important bits that never stayed in the same place…it seemed nigh-impossible.

Opposite the third tower - “We can tour my tower after dinner,” Danny had said - lay the section belonging to Jazz and Spike.

The first thing they come to is familiar - the library.

“Anyone can use the library, but Jazz is the one in charge.”

Jason stops cold.

“Jazz.” He echoes.

Jazz, who had so calmly and proficiently wielded a gun.

Who had gifted him a gun.

Who had expressed her own love for literature.

They’d even briefly discussed some of the classics and yet-

“Jazz made that impossible excuse for a sorting system!?”

He couldn’t bring himself to worry about upsetting him, he’d just have to risk the ribs. That ‘sorting’ system was a travesty that could not stand unchallenged.

Luckily, Danny only chuckles a bit.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he snorts, shaking his head.

“Not that- how are you supposed to find anything!” he shouts, throwing his hands into the air.

“You ask,” Danny answers, brow raised.

“WHO!? THERE’S NO RECEPTIONIST!” Jason scrubs his hands against his hair in frustration.

Understanding dawns on Danny’s face at that.

“Here, let me show you,” he says, nodding to the doors before zooming through.

Jason follows, anger simmering under his skin - fully his own, for the first time in years.

“Library,” Danny says as Jason comes to float beside him, “May I please see The Guide to Phantom Palace?”

A book soars from a wall shelf to float, wiggling in front of him like an eager puppy.

“Thank you!” Danny says brightly, before turning to hand the book to Jason.

“The library is sentient,” he explains. “Good manners are key, by the way - Jazz is in charge, but the library can and will kick people out if they're rude or incautious with food and drinks.”

Jason stares at the book in his hand a moment, frustrated at the simplicity of it and the hour he spent looking aimlessly, but at least a bit soothed at the presence of a way to actually find things - even if the organization still makes no sense.

“Why the emotional organization system, then?” He finally asks.

“That’s for Jazz,” Danny answers. “This library is a part of some psychology project she’s doing - the return system, at least. Ask the library for the book you want - or you can ask for suggestions based on certain criteria. It’s sentient, it can help you find things - and when you’re done with it you put it back where you think it should be based on your own emotions.

Or if you don’t want to participate you can just put your books back on the shelf by the desk and Jazz will rearrange them however she sees fit.”

“Psychology project?” Jason asks after pause.

“Ah, you’d have to ask her. She told me all about it when it was first getting set up, but as much as I tried to understand it, it was all Greek to me.”

“Anyway!” he claps, “Now for the rest!”

The rest of Jazz’s section seems to follow the psychology theme.

A rage room that looks well-loved - battered, glowing clubs and a variety of damaged items from tech to glass to dummies that appeared to be slowly healing themselves.

A soothing room full of soft things and calming music and candles and even a few flowers.

A sound-proof room for quiet, a therapy room for meeting with ‘patients.’ Then of course there were the business meeting, paperwork, sitting, and nap rooms. And a combat room.

The nap, combat, and sitting rooms seemed to be shared, with the second part of the section - Spike’s - branching off from the sitting room.

Spike, of course, had his own cursed paperwork and meeting rooms.

Then came the ‘this is the home of an artist’ rooms.

An enormous circular room was dedicated to acting as a color wheel, the walls slowly shifting from deepest reds to darkest indigos, with every shade and color in between. In the center of the floor was the darkest shade of black, radiating out to a blinding white where it met the walls - the ceiling was the opposite, a bright white dot radiating darker until it met the walls as a void-like black.

A room filled with sketches and paintings, a room full of blank or half-made canvases with pencils and paints and brushes floating all around - seemingly where they’d been abandoned, a room full of miniature landscapes matching both locations he’d seen on earth and the strange landmasses he’d seen on the journey to the castle. And then what Danny called an archive room, where Spike stored older projects that he no longer wished to display.

Skalfred found them just as Danny finished explaining the room.

“Perfect timing!” Danny grins, turning to Jason. “Race you there?"

They’re near the library. Jason knows the way.

He zips around Skalfred and out the door in lieu of an answer.

He can just faintly hear Danny sputtering, ‘You cheater!’ coming out around the echoing laughter behind him.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

Fun Facts!

Elle’s name - she initially chose Dani because she didn’t want to change herself just to differentiate herself from Danny - lots of people have the same name, and she has just as much right to it as Danny.

But it also made her feel too much like a copy and less like a person - especially with the confusion when she started living with the Fentons.

Then Jazz suggested Elle would be a nice name - it’s part of her name already and it’s like Elle Woods, known badass. They then watched legally blonde, and Dani decided it was a really cool name and started going by Elle. She’s a lot happier with it - no more discomfort when being spoken too, and they can still call her Dani when she and Danny are both in the room and they want to annoy the Observants or other people by doing The Bit(™) [both pointing to themselves ‘who me’ - other person, also in on the bit, facepalming and saying ‘Danny’ - them ‘which Danny.’ Of course no one told the observants Dani also goes by Elle. One time one got tired of it and went ‘Obviously the Danny with the crown of fire.’ And Danny makes the Crown of Fire appear (separate little mini-rings-transformation) at the same time Elle pulls a Burger King Crown actively on fire from her Halfa Pocket Space and they both go ‘which crown of fire’ and it is by the blessing of not having organs alone that the observant in question did not immediately have an aneurysm from sheer, apoplectic rage.]

Palu - Danny is a dog person, Elle is a cat person. Palu is named for Cath Palug - the closest thing I could find to a cat-equivalent of Cujo’s namesake. Same neon-green fur as Cujo, but all-purple eyes. Palu can be the size of a cat (around twice Cujo’s puppy-size), but can get up to the size of a horse (just slightly smaller than Cujo’s max). Unfortunately, Palu is very fond of Being Enormous And Also Hunting Everything That Moves That Isn’t Dani, so they put her in one of Sam’s conservation areas where she’d be happy. She liked it enough to move her lair - an incredibly large pet-bed in a small forest of cat trees - and Dani visits whenever she wants to see her.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #danielle phantom #long post #comedy-horror of errors

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zoeykallus · 1 year

Text

Crosshair – My Beloved Enemy 42 – Harsh Words

Warnings: Strong Language / Angst

_____________________

Crosshair is anything but thrilled with what his brothers have told him. When he comes to your shuttle to confront you, he's pretty charged up.

_____________________

What Happened Before:

Part 1 - Crash Landing

Part 2 - Hot And Cold

Part 3 - Hello Kitten

Part 4 - Look Who’s Back

Part 5 - Rebel Darling

Part 6 - Burning Anger

Part 7 - Love And Pain

Part 8 - A Difficult Reunion

Part 9 - The Bitter Taste Of Blood And Failure

Part 10 - Where The Dead Ships Dwell

Part 11 - A Lonely Firefly In Space

Part 12 - Broken Wings

Part 13 - A Helping Hand

Part 14 - The Justifier

Part 15 - The Bounty

Part 16 - Trapped

Part 17 - I Love You Too

Part 18 - When The Past Catches Up With Us

Part 19 - I’ve Never Been Good At Goodbyes

Part 20 - Unexpected

Part 21 - The Question

Part 22 - Sleepless Nights

Part 23 - Sleepyheads And Making Up

Part 24 - Crosshair’s Conclusion

Part 25 - Good Soldiers Follow Orders

Part 26 - I’m Sorry Kitten

Part 27 - Bracca

Part 28 -Rampart

Part 29 - It’s All Tactics

Part 30 - CT 6116

Part 31 - Of Wolves And Sheep

Part 32 - Dying Hope

Part 33 - Hero Of The Day

Part 34 - When The Wolf Eats The Sheep

Part 35 - The Shepherd

Part 36 - The Toll It Takes

Part 37 -Blowing Off Steam

Part 38 - Not Exactly Private

Part 39 - Accusations

Part 40 – Tension And Anger

Part 41 - Unloved Truths

Part 42 - Harsh Words

When Crosshair came into your bedroom on your shuttle, you saw it in his face right away. He was upset. You didn't know why, but you were sure you would find out any moment. Your eyes met, and you slowly put away the holo-book you had just been reading. His gaze was cutting, you suspected he was belligerent.

"What's wrong?" you asked quietly.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and growled, "So I'm difficult, huh? You're unhappy with me?"

You blinked in surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

"About the things you tell Tech, but not me!"

You had regretted talking to Tech about Crosshair before, it had been a stupid idea and a weak moment. One night when you had all been drinking, you had been a little frustrated with Crosshair, Tech had approached you, and you had blabbed because you needed to get it off your chest. Here and now, you regretted it yet again.

You sighed and said, "I'm not generally unhappy."

"I smell a 'but'," he murmured.

He stood in the doorway wide-legged, arms folded in front of his chest, like a bouncer, as if he expected you to try to duck out of the conversation.

"Sometimes you're pretty... bossy. You're almost always in control of everything in our relationship."

Crosshair lowered his arms and began pacing.

"Is that so bad?" he finally asked.

With a sigh, you said, "I would like to be a little more than a supporting actress in our relationship"

He threw his hands in the air.

"What's that supposed to mean now?"

"That I don't always want to just follow, I want you to listen to me for once and consider my wishes and suggestions and not just decide everything over my head" you returned a little impatiently.

Crosshair stopped and looked at you again, penetratingly.

"And here you thought you'd tell my brother, who has a crush on you anyway".

You sighed and said, "It wasn't planned. We had a bit of a fight that day, you once again got your way, and I was frustrated and slightly drunk when Tech asked me what was wrong"

Crosshair started pacing again, this time even more agitated than before.

"Drunk, huh? Is there something more going on between you two that I should know about?"

You frowned.

"What?" you asked sharply.

"Did you fuck him?"

You probably could have cut durasteel with your gaze as you said, "You can't be serious."

"Did you?"

"No!" you snapped angrily, "And I can't believe you would think that!"

You were incredibly angry, but you tried to stay calm, you knew that a lot of what Crosshair was saying, so thoughtlessly, stemmed from a deep insecurity inside him that he hasn't let go of yet. But he was walking a very thin line right now, and you had your tolerance level like everyone else.

He stopped pacing once again, looking at you. His expression is a mixture of anger and guilt. He knows that the comment, the question he just asked, crossed a line.

He shrugged and said, "I didn't really think you would do that."

You looked directly at him, piercingly.

"I know. You're angry, and you said it to hurt me."

Crosshair clenched his hands into fists, but then he relaxed them again and avoided your gaze.

"Maybe that's true" he admitted softly, "Hearing that you told my brother you were unhappy with me hurt me too".

"That wasn't my intention"

Crosshair let out a deep sigh, finally looking back at you, "So I'm bossy?" he asked.

"Most of the time" you said honestly, "But that doesn't always bother me either. In moments, especially when I'm overwhelmed or feeling out of my depth, I'm glad when you take the reins, it makes me feel not quite as lost"

Crosshair raised his brows in surprise. He came over to you and sat down next to you. He looked at you carefully and asked, "So this isn't just a bad thing?"

You nodded.

"Sometimes I would like to decide some things though".

Again, he sighed and said, "Like that crimson summer dress you wanted to buy on Naboo?"

You nodded again.

"Yes, for example."

Crosshair smiled barely noticeably and said, "You looked so pretty in that dress."

Questioningly, your gaze rested on his profile as he avoided looking into your eyes.

"Then why did you want me to buy the other one?"

"Because I saw Tech staring at you when you tried it on, he almost devoured you with his eyes, even Hunter was looking a little longer than usual" Crosshair grumbled softly, scuffing his foot across the floor.

"So you were jealous?"

He shrugged, but finally admitted, "Yes, I was."

Now that he thought about it, many of his decisions concerning you were made out of jealousy. Even Crosshair knew that was a problem. He looked at you meekly and said, "I've shared absolutely everything with my brothers my whole life, we've always lived together. We didn't have any privacy or a private life. And then I met you, and I know I want you just for myself. We've always bickered about things, even as cadets. I think part of me just fears that one of my brothers might lay claim. And we both know Tech would be only too happy to do that."

You smiled at him, kissed his cheek and said, "But I'm not a protein bar, I'm not a weapon, I'm not another inanimate object. I have my own mind, my own will. I only want you, Crosshair, no one else. No matter what happens around us. You are the one man in my life, the one I want to share my life with. If that wasn't the case, I wouldn't have married you."

Crosshair leaned his forehead against yours and said, "So you want a little wedding celebration?"

"That would be nice," you said with a satisfied smirk.

"Okay" he said softly, "How about you and I have a little make up sex right now, and then we discuss how we want the wedding celebration"

"That sounds excellent"

Seems like there is a smut chapter ahead...

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@twinkofthedink

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@ladykatakuri @inthemoshpitt

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