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fbfh · 11 months

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busy busy busy (but never too busy for you) - dad!tony + stark!reader

wc: 1.5k

pairing: dad!tony + (gn) stark!reader

genre: minor hurt/mostly comfort

warnings: needing to spend time with your parent, crying, emotional comfort, if you have daddy issues this one's gonna hurt lol

summary: after traveling with your dad on business, you find yourself missing spending time with him. Tony can't have that, of course.

song rec: walking the wire - imagine dragons

a/n: first fic finished post top surgery!!!!!!! the next few weeks posts will probs be shorter until I finish chapter 1 of the next multichapter fic lol. Also if I didn't say it recently I love you guys, thank you so much for all your love and support <333 PS if you need more personalized dad!tony.... character.ai works well for that lmao

tags @afidiofobia @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @dustyinkpages @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @liberty-barnes @followingthefanfiction @youkissedareaderinthedark @girlfriendwhoseawitch @mrscarolscaramoucheplease

You climb into the car, settling into the plush leather seat as Happy closes the door next to you. You set down your bag and try to get your seatbelt buckled while your dad sits next to you, wrapping up a phone call.

“No, no. I don’t care. I said-” He stops, listening to someone on the other end for a moment. He’s clearly annoyed. He’s had to deal with people simultaneously trying to kiss his ass and tell him what to do all week, and you can tell he’s getting tired of it.

“Throw as many conferences as you want, they’ll all be Stark-less. Throw a whole party, while you’re at it- you know what? No, don’t do that. I might actually show up to that.” He mutters the last part, something that would normally make you laugh. He glances over at you, but you’re still fussing with your seatbelt.

“Alright, how about this. I’ll refer you to Stark Industries CEO, Pepper Potts.” The person on the other end is already objecting, but your dad couldn’t care less at this point. He’s said what he needed to say, and this idiot doesn’t want to listen. He continues to wrap up this disastrous phone call as the car pulls into the street, and starts driving you to the airport.

“She’ll help you get this sorted out.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye, then looks over at you. As soon as he does, he knows something’s wrong. You’re not yourself. You’re staring at the bottom of the seat in front of you instead of out the window, or going on your phone. Usually you can’t wait for him to finish business calls, sometimes texting him in the middle of them - texts he’s always happy to receive. You’ve rescued him from pointless conference calls with those texts more times than he can count. You always have something to tell him or update him on, whether that be the latest social media drama, friend group drama, the show you’re watching on Netflix, or even Avengers memes you find online. You always have something delightful you’re excited to share with him without even having to try, and it lights up his day each time. Except now, with you staring into space.

He hands you the coffee he got you, taking his out of the cardboard holder that had been resting on his lap until now. You look over briefly, accepting the drink.

“Thanks,” you say lightly, but there’s something in your tone that tips him off.

“You okay, kid?”

You pause sipping your drink, wondering how he figured you out so fast. He’s your dad, you suppose. That’s kind of his job. You thought you’d been doing an okay job at masking the hollow sadness that’s been eroding you from the inside out all weekend. It doesn’t happen too often, and you tried everything you could to distract yourself until it stopped working. Until now.

“Is it school? Boys? Girls?” He asks when you don’t answer right away. There’s a note of humor to his voice, but there’s also a sincerity, and you know that even if it was school or boys or girls that he would help you through it. “C’mon, you gotta keep your old man up to date on all the tea. The hot goss.”

You let out a weepy chuckle, tracing the lid of your drink. He’s always the first to know when your Starbucks order changes, and he always knows exactly the perfect drink to get you without even having to ask. It’s a little thing, but it makes you feel even worse. You’ve spent the whole weekend trying to ignore how much you’ve been missing your dad, missing spending one on one time with him that’s not in between meetings or over a late dinner. He works so hard, and he has so much on his plate, but he always makes time for you.

That’s why he started taking you along on business trips like this, because you both hated being away from each other. Usually it’s fine, usually you’re off exploring whatever city you’re in, going shopping, or generally finding somewhat entertaining ways to pass the time that you can tell him about next time you catch up. It’s usually really fun, too. It’s just when it gets busy like this, you think, when he has all these meetings and you have all your stuff that you’re juggling that you start to get like this.

“No, no,” you say softly, rubbing the bottom of your eyes when they start to get misty. “Nothing like that…”

Tony listens intently in the silence that follows, waiting to see if you have more to share with him. The smell of his cologne is paternal and comforting, a familiar reassurance that floats around him and feels like a hug.

“I just miss you, I guess…” you start, speaking your mind before you can even think. Your dad has that effect on you, it’s so easy to share how you feel and what you’re excited for or worried about that it feels automatic sometimes, like it’s impossible not to. Tony feels his heart break as he realizes what a toll all the recent traveling has taken on you, both of you. He pulls you in for a tight hug. You feel the tears you’ve been fighting start to spill, Tony rubs your back reassuringly and it finally feels safe enough to.

He tries not to dwell on the fact that you got to feel like this in the first place, tries not to let that voice tell him he should have noticed how you felt sooner, that he’s a terrible dad, because he knows inside that he’s not. He’s not his father, and he sure as hell won’t make those mistakes. He could let himself worry about how he’s doing with you, let it keep him up at night - hell, it still does some nights, even when he doesn’t want it to. It’s been that way with you since he became your dad. Instead of worrying about that, he does what he does best. He takes action.

“You are such a sweet kid.” He states, pressing a kiss on your forehead when you pull away. He brushes away the tears spilling down your cheeks. “Unfortunately, sometimes being a genius-billionaire-superhero-superdad requires some meetings and boring stuff. But don’t think I forgot about the most important part of that.”

The dad part. He doesn’t even have to say it, you both know that’s where he’s going with this. You nod along, sighing as your breathing starts to slow back down.

“But you’re right. It has gotten to be too much lately.”

He reaches into the small mini fridge sitting between the driver’s and passenger seats, crisply cold and stocked with both your favorite drinks. He grabs a water bottle, opening it and handing it to you.

“How about this? We’ll spend the whole plane ride back watching movies together - or that show you were telling me about, the one with- god, what’s his name…” He tries to remember the name of that actor you’ve been talking about the last few days, and you chuckle, supplying the answer. He snaps his fingers in recognition, repeating it back to you.

“Yes. That’s the one. We’ll watch all those movies, and you brainstorm what we’re going to do this weekend. Dream big, kid. I’ll have Pepper help you organize the whole thing.”

Your eyes widen in excitement, and you hug him tightly again.

“Thanks, dad.” You smile. You really are both long overdue for some quality time together, and Tony knows if he has to attend one more meeting, he’s going to lose his mind. The cave he built his first arc reactor in was more interesting than some of the people he’s spoken to recently.

“I love you, kid.”

He looks at you fondly for a moment, basking in pride at what a wonderful, amazing person you’ve become. It’s not time for him to get all sappy on you with the dad stuff, not quite yet, so before he can, he grabs a fluffy throw blanket and spreads it across you.

“Now, we’ve got a big weekend ahead of us, so get some shut eye. I’ll wake you when we get to the airport.”

Right before you start to doze off, you hear him on the phone with Pepper, filling her in on the plan.

“Alright, so they’ve got about 25 more minutes of Stark business time, then I’m off the grid till monday.” Pepper says something about how they’re not going to like that, and Tony laughs, glancing over at you sleeping peacefully. “They don’t have to.”

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julesthequirky · 6 months

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The Choice: Chapter One

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn't be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there's a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: You, Antiques salesman, mother, cute black cat.

Chapter Warnings: Pain in the ass mother, language.

W/C: 1,220

A/N: Soley thought of this idea just for that Spiderman meme.

The bell to the antiques store tinkled as you opened the door. As you stepped in, the proprietor of the store moved away from behind the counter. The place was cluttered, and everything in sight was for sale.

“Hi there, interested in purchasing something today?”

He was a kindly-looking older gent, who reminded you of your pops, and you couldn’t help but smile warmly at him.

“Potentially. Just browsing, for now.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” He enquired as you started to browse.

You shrugged. “Not really.”

He smiled then. “Ah. You won’t know what you’re looking for until it finds you.” He said with a twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled and nodded. Yeah, you could agree with that.

It didn’t take long for you to find something. Your eye had landed on a trifold oval picture frame. And for the price tag, you were tempted. Very tempted.

“Ah a lovely set. Baroque features in the detailing. Could do with a possible restoration, but a proper clean would also suffice.”

You fingered the tag again, it was a hundred dollars.

“Tell ya what. I’ll knock off ten bucks. How does that sound?”

You looked at him then.

“You don’t think I don’t know the look of someone finding an item they can’t walk away from? Darlin’ you got that look. You got it bad.”

It was just a picture frame. A dumb little picture frame, but why did it give you so much joy to look at? You weren’t much of a haggler and it would seem rude to haggle the price after he had already generously knocked off ten percent.

“Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

He shook your hand. “Excellent.”

He picked up the item and very carefully began meandering his way back to the counter with you following him. He set the item down gently and rung up the purchase.

“Such a pretty little find. And it was a shame that it had been hiding in a box, before coming here.”

You gave him a quizzical look and he held up a hand before disappearing into the back for a few moments and coming back with a small wooden box. He placed it on the counter in front of you. Your hands reached out towards it. The wooden box looked plain compared to the delicate and intricate detailing on the frame. It was finished with a dark varnish and what was with the strange script etched into the grain? Was it Elvish, or Sanskrit, or even Latin? You had no idea. A simple clasp locked the box. Easy to use. Either way, now you had a keepsake box also.

“It’s my understanding that the original owner had passed away and his living relatives didn’t want it and, well here it is.”

“Well, it’s their loss.”

“Of course, of course. If they hadn’t, then you never would have found it.”

He took your cash and then handed you the receipt. He bid you a good rest of your day as you lifted the box and the picture frame and made your way out of the store.

You placed the final photo in the frame. Slid the locks, and placed the frame on your sideboard, angling it so you could appreciate it all that little bit more. You sighed in contentment as three of your favourite fictional men smiled seemingly at you from beside your TV.

The door knocked and by the light raps you knew who it was. This time, you sighed heavily and muttered “God, give me strength” before going to open the door. You’d only opened it a crack before she started to barge her way in.

“Y/N, honestly, what are you wearing? Pyjama’s during daytime? I don’t know. Go put on some proper clothes.”

You looked down. Now you were annoyed. It was loungewear for God’s sake. Perfectly acceptable.

“Mother, what I’m wearing should be of no concern to you and its just gone five, and it’s a Saturday.”

She sniffed and made her way into your lounge. She tutted at the clutter.

“Don’t you ever tidy up?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down. “What did you come here for? To pick faults or was there an actual reason?”

“Your father—”

“Not my father.” You stated.

Your mother had married her partner not long after your father’s passing and now, she acted as though he had been in your life since birth.

She continued, like you hadn’t interrupted her.

“—and I have been talking. You know that nice young man that started last year, Cole—"

“Wait, you’re not seriously trying to set me up?”

Your mother looked a little put out.

“Well, it can’t hurt to get back out there. Get back on the horse or so to speak.”

You sat there shocked. Then it turned to anger.

“Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed that your one and only daughter is a divorcee!”

“Ashamed, no. Disappointed, yes.”

It was like a punch to the gut and the hurt stabbed at your heart. You’d suspected your mother had opinions on your divorce but to voice her disappointment a year and a half after finalization felt like a kick in the teeth. It left you speechless.

“Is that new? I have to say I don’t think it goes with the room. Who are those men? Are they from your shows? Honestly Y/N. I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”

Your mother had continued to ramble on whilst you were still reeling from her comment. At that moment your all black cat slinked in, jumping up and made her way over to your mother’s lap.

“If you’re not careful, this is your future.” She said nodding to the cat.

You looked at her then.

“I think you should leave, mother.”

She turned her head, facing you. She looked like a goldfish with the way her mouth kept opening and closing. Then her lips pursed together, and she stood, with the cat leaping from her. She made a disgusted sound, discovering the amount of cat hair had malted on her. You handed her a nearby lint brush, and she furiously started scrubbing at the hair on her skirt. She then stood and bid you a good evening and purposefully walked to the door. Your mother didn’t wait, slamming the door on her way out. You scrubbed your hand down your face muttering about her audacity.

You plonked yourself on the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The cat had been fed and was currently God knows where, doing its own thing.

Halfway through Family Feud, a loud crash from what sounded like your kitchen alerted you. Your laugh cut short and Steve Harvey poked fun at a contestant's absurd answer, laughing on the screen. You jumped up, abandoning the snacks and ran to see the destruction, cussing your cat out along the way.

You stormed into the room ready to reem your pesky feline, grabbing a broom, threatening the extinction of treats for the rest of his life. But what you saw had you stopping in your tracks. Words died on your tongue. And what you saw, there was no rhyme or reason to it. In fact, it should have been physically impossible.

Dean Winchester stood in your kitchen, holding a case of pie.

#The Choice #julesthequirky's fics #spn fanfic #reader insert #beau arlen #big sky #dean winchester #soldier boy

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pink-onyx-au · 10 months

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[Jump to the Episode Master List]

Nap time! Thank you everyone for your continued support and interaction! I adore it and it adds so much more to the AU than you could know. This is a heads up on some minor down-time for the blog while I rest up and prepare the next episode.

Notes and asks are still open and encouraged during this time! Bored and want to chat? Send me a message!

To see some WIP, storyboard previews, doodles, shitposts, and other projects I’m working on, along with a healthy amount of 3am memes, head over to my trash fire blog, Ceephor’s Shit Show. The "pink onyx au" tag will filter everything for you, along with showing you fabulous fan art made by others that I just love to pieces.

Speculation and theories are encouraged! The comic is designed as close to the show’s logic as I could muster, which means many secrets are staring right at you, provided you know what to look for! Just be kind to one another.

Comic FAQ:

What is this? Pink Onyx AU is a Steven Universe AU focused on interactions between Steven and Jasper and is intended to be read after you have finished Steven Universe Future, as it contains many many spoilers for the series. If you have watched it already, great! Welcome! The goal is to bring you a Jasper redemption arc that we couldn’t get due to time and cooperate restraints on the Crewniverse. I hope you enjoy!

I do not own these characters or their likenesses except for the single fluffy thembo fusion I created for the story. This is just a fan comic.

Comic is PG-13 for some angsty themes, minor blood, violence, and gem-cussing.

When do you post? Typically when you see this post pinned, I’m on a bit of a break, but when Nyx wakes up (this post goes away) the comic is due to be released 1 page at a time at 7am EST most days. I try for a daily release. Sometimes I skip a day if I’m behind. Episode release dates are always announced ahead of time by a few weeks.

Is this a romantic ship AU between Jasper and Steven? Nope, more like an aunt and her nephew trying to figure it all out. No romance between these two here.

Is your Tapas updated at the same time? Nope, tumblr comes first, and the tumblr will always have bonus content which Tapas will not. The Tapas for this updates after the tumblr version is completed. Usually same day or within a day.

Curious about the characters? Check below the cut for more a detailed FAQ about the inner workings of the story. Love you all! See you soon! 🧡💕❤️

FAQ’s about the characters generated via interactive asks:

What kind of fusion is Pink Onyx? Are they good or bad? Pink Onyx is a fusion of a protagonist and an antagonist, so their alliance is yet unknown, but they have Steven’s good heart and Jasper’s loyal nature. They also have Steven and Jasper’s flaws, so they can be volatile and emotionally explosive at times, too.

What are Pink Onyx’s pronouns? Onyx likes they/them, but also answers to he/him and she/her, especially when Steven or Jasper is dominant over one another. They also seem to take on a fluid role and prefer a she/her when in a caretaker status. They dislike it/its.

What does Pink Onyx sound like? Personally, I hear them as a youthful, masculine tone. Like Steven if a little older. But I also enjoy when people say they hear them as a gruff, Amazonian-type feminine. I enjoy and endorse both.

Do Jasper and Steven enjoy being fused to one another? For now, it is a struggle, but they enjoy what the other brings to the fusion even if they won’t say it.

Does Pink Onyx need to eat and do human things? If so, do they enjoy it? They don’t need to do them, but they do feel the discomfort without them. Things like breathing, eating, and sleeping are optional for Onyx, but they will become quite irritable if not allowed to do them. They greatly enjoy sleeping and trying new foods.

What does Jasper think about having human organs when fused? She’s pretty grossed out by the idea of organic matter going into her mouth and coming out of other places. The heart beating and lungs breathing she can feel for the first time, and it is highly strange for her to experience.

What is Pink Onyx’s favorite food? They adore anything watermelon flavored and Cookie-cat ice cream products

Does Pink Onyx have any special fusion powers? They do, and as they learn about themselves, more powers seem to come out. Each of their base component appears to be enhanced in a unique way. They have Pink Diamond at their core, so the destructive potential is also there.

Why is Steven hiding Pink Onyx from others? This AU occurs directly after the events of "I Am My Monster", so Steven is very emotionally, and mentally, raw. He fears judgement for running back to Jasper, who in the past, was part of so much trauma he already endured.

Pink Onyx seems to know nothing about human culture and gem culture despite being a fusion. What’s going on? Jasper and Steven agreed to fuse, but they have yet to open up to one another about much else. The fusion exists because they agree to do so, but Jasper won’t open up about her emotions, and Steven is so sensitive yet that he is not sharing because he knows Jasper won’t want to hear it. This causes Onyx to be unable to access both of their memories easily, but they can bring it out with enough effort.

#pink onyx au #steven universe au #steven universe #steven universe future #c423art #ceephorart #pink onyx #fusion #jasper #steven #Nyx nap #faq

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greypetrel · 2 months

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15 Lines of Dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Tagged by @shivunin, thank you so much Mo! It's been so fun. Also a nightmare because I chose Aisling and my goodness someone make her shut up please. Referenced from Monster Fic (which is still getting views?? :"D Welp.), This one Radha fic , this prompt . Five minutes of silence for the one poop line that didn't make it to the final cut of this meme. Always remembered.

🦄✨ Aisling Lavellan ✨🦄

"We look like a swan and the ugly chick of a cuckoo.”

“I do. He’s just been mistreated. The Idiot started training him as a war horse, but it didn’t go well. He’s been beaten and whipped and given little food for too long, and relegated to do the work horse when he’s not. He just needs to learn that people can be trusted again, but he’ll be stronger and swifter than all the others, I’m sure.”

“Hey, I’m trying to stay in the role. I was told I’m a religious figure and I should behave! You’re ruining the mood, people need to think I’m the Herald of Andraste for real and that you can’t laugh! Stop, or I’ll have to sing a very lewd drinking song, you’ll laugh loudly, and they’ll all know!”

“I am aware I must sound like a child. But I believe people are good, deep down. And that everyone deserves a second chance.”

“In the case I’ll tragically fall to my death on horseback, I’ll leave a note to allow you to talk to my funeral and tell everyone that you told me so, is it all right?”

“The bad and the good, Cole. The good is better if there’s bad, like when it stops raining and the sun shines again, or when springs melts the snow and the flowers grow. But, humans can’t choose one, you know it. There must be snow and rain and thunder to make the flowers grow. I’m fine, don’t look at me. What do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I think all the time that you would have made a way better job as Inquisitor, if I hadn’t convinced the Keeper to send me and not you. You would have done a better job as First than I ever did, if… And I’m… I’m trying to prove that it’s not so, that I can be good too. Been doing it all my life, honestly.”

“Mh. I’m not really sure. Care to try again? For science?”

“You wished for a Cinderella, your Grace, but I am a bad one. You would know if you ever had paid more attention to anyone that’s not yourself.”

“But then, even if I feel nauseous and I hate everything and I would beg you to just take the title from me, I can’t take it, it’s too much and I’m just me… Then I remember that if I had run, I’d never met any of you, and you’ve all become family, and… And I do believe that we’re doing something good to the world. And that’s… That’s enough when the walls seems to loom upon me and I think that I can’t shoulder another impossible decision that shouldn’t be mine to take.”

“What if you explain and nothing changes? I know about loneliness, and of thinking you don’t deserve the love you get. You don’t have to face it alone.”

“I know. But I can still do some good, and the important people will remember me. I don’t care for the rest.”

“I’ve been alone ever since people started calling me the Herald of fucking Andraste, but I guess you wouldn’t understand being imposed by others a part that means nothing to you and you hate, right, Blackwall?”

“But if thinking he deserves another chance makes me a traitor, than be it. He’s more powerful than any of you realize. If you really think that hate and open hostility will ultimately save us all, I am glad to call myself a traitor and die as one.”

“No. You will let me finish. I know my shit, I am good at it, I am happy that you worry and care for me, really! I am and thank you for it, but this is getting ridiculous and I’m only doing worse because I’m stressed about you not trusting that I am competent and constantly watching me like… Like… Like a fucking vulture!”

Special mentions:

"Bad horsey!"

“Hey! I also have good days!”

Tagging: @ndostairlyrium @underneathestars @melisusthewee @rowanisawriter @pinayelf @zenstrike @inquisimer @heniareth and YOU!

#tagged petrel #15 lines of dialogue #aisling lavellan #I noted down everything not to get back at the fic again and I filled 3 pages in word #1790 words #my goodness Aisling you're chatty #back at you Mo it *has* been a nightmare #something I realized is that the most poignant lines on her are always said by other characters #... which is extremely in line with her #She'll talk you silly but will only speak about what negative she's feeling if she's VERY upset #and that Blackwall takes out the worst in her (in a good thing - not one she's happy to face but one she needs to face)

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rorywritesjunk · 7 months

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For these foamy green hills are but saltwater desert

Richie, Mohji’s lion, isn’t doing so well. The crew end up at a small island with a dwindling population to seek help and Buggy meets Midori, the mayor who is far more stubborn and trusting with his crew than he can really comprehend.

Rating: PG-13, gonna have smut at some point later though. Warnings: Buggy being obnoxious, of course. I’d call this a fast paced slow burn. It takes the place over the course of the week and days are split into two chapters. There’s also some drama and other pirates. A/N: Full confession. I honestly wrote this because I have been watching the anime and Richie is one of the best characters. Do I know a lot about the anime? No. Is some of this chaotic and characters OOC? Of course! It’s a fanfic. Is it self indulgent? Hell yes. I had fun writing this and wanted to share it. Also, I wrote this more with anime!Buggy in mind since we don’t get to see Richie in the live action. Additional Note: I neglected this story! I didn't mean to as I got busy with the Kid Buggy fic and some one shots. This story is mostly finished, I just have to get it posted. I also have a meme I want to make for this as well which may come later.

Title comes from the song “Dryad’s Promise” by Tricky Pixie.

Chapter 5

Day 3 pt 1

Buggy had his arms crossed as he walked through the small town. There was a little store and bar, and those were the only two businesses operating. The rest of the buildings were boarded shut, some with signs saying they would re-open in some other town on another island. It was a bit depressing to see. This place wouldn't be worth destroying at all in the end.

He was on his own until lunch. Midori had business to attend to that involved being the mayor, and he didn't really want to tag along for those errands. It sounded boring, so he decided to explore some more.

Except he walked down the main street in about five minutes before arriving at another farm. How could anyone live in a place this small? You'd see the same thing daily, no doubt have the same conversations, and see the same people.

This place was kind of like living on a ship, but at least he got to see different places.

Buggy paused as he stopped at the bottom of the road leading up to the farm house. The grass was overgrown, there were no animals, and the windows were broken out. The island was dying. There would be no one left but Midori in the end and for some reason that was upsetting to him. How could she be stubborn and say she would be the last one? Why wouldn't she leave when the others left, or even leave before them? Why stick around with that blind stubbornness that she had?

Maybe…

He shook his head. He wasn't going to ask her to come with, even if it was to drop her off at the next island. If she wanted to stay then she could stay. No matter what he said to her she wouldn't budge. It was only the third day with her and he already felt himself age years just from arguing with her.

He sighed and started back up the road to the little downtown area, stopping when he saw Midori leave the little store. She looked upset and he frowned. That didn't seem right. Without warning he stormed up to her.

"What's wrong?!" He demanded, catching her off guard. She wiped her eyes.

"Uh, nothing." She told him as she forced a smile. "Nothing's wrong, Buggy."

He glared at her and crossed his arms. "Liar. What happened?"

"It was nothing, Buggy, really." She insisted as she tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. She sighed and looked up at him, her voice tired. "What?"

"Tell me what happened. I'll teach'em a lesson." He said, turning his attention to the little store. If they offended her or hurt her, he'd be happy to go in and have a polite conversation with them.

She put her hand on his chest, pushing him back gently. He looked back at her, the urge to fight whoever wronged her still there. Midori gave him a sad smile. "Come on, Captain, let's go for a walk."

He grumbled, kicked a rock at the door, and allowed her to lead him down the road he just came from. They walked past the abandoned farmhouse and down a bit further, leading to the shore. Damn, this island was so small.

"I was just informed by the older couple who run the store that they are leaving." She told him as she kicked her boots off and stuck her feet into the sand. "And with that happening… everyone else will follow because it was just a matter of time."

Buggy watched her carefully. She sank down to the ground and covered her face. He scratched his cheek and shrugged. "Well, maybe…"

"If you suggest I leave I'll punch you in the back of the knee, Buggy." She mumbled from behind her hands. "I… don't want to hear it. I just need to be sad for a bit."

"I was going to suggest something else!" He shot back, but he forced himself to breathe for a moment before continuing. "I was going to suggest reaching out to other islands, post about home availability, maybe people would move out here." He clenched his teeth. "Maybe the Marines would build a base here. That would help."

She sniffed and looked up at him as tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Maybe. Maybe that can happen."

"Don't cry over something you can't control." He sighed. "It's dumb." He backtracked when she made a face. "I'm not saying you're dumb! Just everything else! The only thing that's dumb is your big heart for this place!"

She giggled softly as the tears fell. "You're bad at this, Buggy. Haven't you ever comforted someone before?"

He grumbled and looked away from her, cheeks pink from the frustration over this interaction. "I'm not trying to comfort you."

Midori clenched her fist and reached up, gently bumping his knee with her fist. "Thanks, that was apparent."

"Yea, well… don't cry when we walk back home because people may think I made you cry." He grumbled. "I don't need them chasing us outta here yet."

"I won't let that happen." She promised.

When Buggy came into the kitchen for lunch, he stopped when he saw Midori sitting at the table, staring out the window that faced the water. His ship was out there, anchored and tied to the docks. In a few days he would be leaving with the crew and putting this place behind them, hopefully forgetting their time here. Buggy didn’t want to dwell on nostalgia.

Midori didn’t seem to realize he was there. She let out a few sniffles occasionally, wiping away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Was she still crying over the news from this morning, or was it something different? He cleared his throat and she frantically wiped at her cheeks using her sleeve before turning to face him, her face lighting up. He tried not to look her in the eyes right then, not wanting to see the sadness that was still there.

“Hey!” She said as she pushed her chair away from the table. “Sorry, I didn’t get started on lunch yet. Got a little distracted.” She chuckled softly as she went to the counter, grabbing some different fruits to cut up. “How about a fruit plate with some cheese? Something simple.”

He sighed in frustration before stomping over to her, catching her surprise as he trapped her between his arms as he looked down at her, his hands resting on the counter. She was smiling but it wasn’t the one he was used to seeing, the one he had started to look forward to over the short time they’ve known each other. With a huff, he raised his hand up, thumb brushing away her tears.

“What’s got you crying now?” He asked quietly, tone far more gentle than she had been expecting. “If it’s that old couple, I’ll go have a word with them.”

Midori’s heart jumped into her throat at how close he was. She tried to shrink back against the counter, to put distance between them, but he was right there and so close to her that she almost thought it was fear she felt, just for a moment, but he did nothing to scare her. Her heart was pounding at his touch and her throat went dry. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t, instead snapping her mouth shut before looking down, not meeting his gaze.

Buggy didn’t like being ignored. Both hands cupped her cheeks, lifting her head back up to look at him as he glared down at her. “Tell me what’s wrong!”

Without hesitation, Midori placed both of her hands on his as fresh tears started rolling down her cheek, wailing, “Everyone wants to leave, Buggy!”

Oh, shit. He didn’t expect the waterworks. He dropped his hands and she let go of him, now wiping at her eyes as she cried. Panic started to hit him. He didn’t know what to do. She was actually crying in front of him and it wasn’t his fault.

She sank to the floor, sobbing, and he looked for a tea towel or something to dry her eyes. He didn’t want her to cry, he wanted to see her smile, but he didn’t know what to do or say to do that, to get her to stop crying. He finally found a tea towel and knelt down in front of her, holding it out. “Please don’t.”

Midori took it from him, sniffling loudly as she wiped her eyes. “W-What?”

“I… don’t want to see you crying.” He said as his face started to turn red. “I’d rather see you smile. Please?”

“B-Buggy, everyone’s going t-to leave.” She told him, hiccuping. “With the shopkeepers leaving, we drop down more… and… and an hour ago the rest of them came and spoke to me… they’re leaving when the others go.” Fresh tears came to her eyes. “They’re leaving next week. A ship will come and collect them, the ship that would bring us our goods and supplies. They’re going to go on that ship and I’ll be here, alone.” Midori gripped the tea towel and pressed it against her eyes as she cried. “I’m the last one here, Buggy!”

Oh, he didn’t want to see her cry. He didn’t want to hear the heartbreak in her voice, see her tears rolling down her cheeks. He didn’t know what to do or say to make her feel better. Maybe he just needed to let her cry it out, get it out of her system for a few minutes before moving on. Maybe this would be a wake up call for her, that staying behind after everyone else left would be foolish. Maybe, just maybe, he could suggest she come aboard his ship, join his crew, maybe help Mohji look after Richie since the lion has taken a liking to her. She could stay in Buggy’s room, his bed was big enough to share; she didn’t need to be around the rest of the crew all of the time.

He wanted to suggest that, and he started to open his mouth to do so, but she let out a heavy sigh, sniffled, and looked back up at him with watery eyes.

“Thank you for listening.” She told him. “I… I needed that, thank you.”

He snapped his mouth shut and nodded. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything to her at all then.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown #buggy opla #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x you

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nostalgia-tblr · 5 months

Text

20 Questions For Writers

I got tagged by @thot-son-of-odin for this!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

412 (plus some Anonymous works that aren’t counted in that number)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

777,634

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Doctor Who (old and new), various Star Treks, the MCU, and a few others including Elementary and M*A*S*H.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Trust the Devil

2. Four Times the Doctor and Clara Shared a Bed and One Time They Didn't

3. Locks And Revelations

4. Responsibility

5. How To Walk On Eggshells

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

I didn’t used to but I try to now. It took me a while to get past “if I thank them for the kind words that means I agree and they can call me big-headed!” but now I think perhaps the commenter and I will become friends, as though this was still the LJ days or whatever.

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

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

I am answering these together to say that with 412 works it’s rly hard to come up with an answer because I’m bound to forget something that’s either angstier or happier than the one I pick D:

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

No, despite writing occasionally Problematic stuff. Maybe I’m just lucky with that? I think on AO3 the worst I’ve ever got is a comment or two on Ten/Reinette fic about how it is a TERRIBLE pairing and how dare anyone write it. I think I deleted those, or if I haven’t then I meant to, because fuck it they’re properly tagged so the enraged anons must have deliberately chosen something that would offend them.

This sort of thing is why I still have an automatic flinch reaction when people tell me they like Rose Tyler.

9. Do you write smut?

Of course not! I write very thoughtful and insightful character studies in which the characters being studied fuck, that’s COMPLETELY different!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not often, I’m more into the idea of crossovers than actually writing (or reading) them.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, a few times.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes but not for years.

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

I’m going to say Doctor/TARDIS because that’s a safe answer to such questions.

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

Never say never – I’ve had ideas that did finally get written a decade later.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I think it’s dialogue, which is also usually the easiest part to write. (I am a bit of a Fic Snob about how characters should sound like themselves in fic, including in AU fics where is even more important and also if they go OOC in those then that should be the point that’s being made.)

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

The bits that aren’t dialogue. Urgh, why must things need to be described! Why must I tell the reader who is speaking!

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

Well I usually see it in the context of “a phrase or word in the language we assume the characters are actually speaking” (mostly pet-names, for some reason) and that just makes me go “So what language are they speaking in the rest of this story? In the rest of this sentence, even?” Not a fan of this, nah.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars! :O

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I dunno, there’s too many of them (same problem as before).

I tag anyone what wants to do this meme!

#fic related #20 questions for fic writers

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quietlyimplode · 2 years

Text

leave everything but your bones behind

Whumptober 2022: day 30 - note to self: don’t get kidnapped

Warnings: none I can think of, maybe just serious talk.

Word Count: 1.7k (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha becomes unwell and only the Red Room can fix her. The choice is die or go back to the very place that made her.

A/N: One to go. My loves, my friends, thank you for supporting this fic.

Main Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

———

He’s worried about his friends.

They’ve been missing for over two days, and even though he knows where they are, it feels like the tower is empty.

Steve wanders in and they talk about everything and nothing, avoiding the elephant in the room.

Bruce doesn’t say anything, just appears sometimes, to show Tony something or to use something in his lab.

He wants to see Natasha, know that she’s okay. Clint messages him every now and then, and sometimes he sends back a meme or picture and it’s easy communication.

It doesn’t stop the worry.

Their cat stays with him his his workshop, and he doesn’t hate the random company it keeps.

“Hello cat,” he greets, stretching and walking into the workshop. The cat stretches and eyeballs him, as he skirts around her, not wanting to disturb her.

“I think you need to go home,” he tells her, “be with your people.”

The cat licks it’s paw, then ducks it’s head as Tony gets nearer, sits next to her and sighs.

She stands and stalks over to him, sitting on him much to his delight and displeasure. He can’t move now, even if he wanted to.

“Jarvis, where’s Natasha?”

The AI takes a moment.

“They’re in Clint’s loft,” comes the comforting voice of his robot.

He sighs and absentmindedly pats the cat.

“Where’s the other girl ninja assassin?” he asks, wondering if it’s something Natasha wants to know.

“She was last tagged in Florida,” he’s told.

“Bruce?”

“Asleep.”

For once.

“Steve?”

“In the kitchen.”

The cat starts to purr lightly, the vibration oddly soothing as Tony relaxes.

Everything that’s happened over the last month, is his fault. All their pain, this journey into the abyss, rests heavily on his shoulders.

He stares at everything in his workshop, all of this and money and still…

He blames the Red Room, too, but, they’d trusted him to help; and he couldn’t.

He feels so guilty.

He keeps thinking about how he could have done it differently, if he knew then what he knows now.

He can’t take it back.

He wants to apologise to her but he doesn’t have the courage.

Sharp claws press into his thigh, and it takes his mined off his thoughts as he looks down. Green eyes look back to him as she kneads her front paws into his skin.

“Ow,” he complains.

But he doesn’t move her; he focuses on her, burying his fingers into her soft fur.

“Are you coming to get your cat?” Tony opens, as Clint laughs in response,

“Don’t act like you don’t love her.”

There’s a pause.

“Bruce told on you,” he finishes.

“Traitor,” Tony mutters, “Are you coming home.. Back?”

The silence is telling.

“No,” Clint says clearly.

“So this is goodbye?”

It hurts more than Tony cares to admit.

“For now.”

Even though he knew it was coming, he wonders if it would hurt less if they spent the last couple of days here.

If he could care for them, help them with anything they need. He knew they’d leave.

It’s what they do. They come and go like ships in the night.

Ever since he’s known them.

It was only a matter of time before they left again.

“Put Nat on?”

He almost feels Clint nod as the phone has static and then…

“Hey Tony.”

Hearing her speak, makes his breath catch in his throat.

“How are you?”

He can’t stop the question passing his lips.

The silence on the other end makes Tony cringe, it’s the wrong question.

“I’m doing okay,” she says finally. He’s not sure if she’s lying.

“Really?”

There’s a little pause before she speaks again.

“Yeah, getting there, you know? Note to self, don’t get kidnapped when you’re a child, it will lead to trauma later on.”

He sees where she’s going, opting for some levity, but he can’t quite take it.

“But … I don’t want that for you,” his words are forlorn, thinking of the conversation he’d had with Steve around childhood memories.

“It’s okay, Tony.”

“Will I see you again? Soon?”

He’d love to see what she’s doing right now, that this was a video call, because it takes her a second too long to answer. It’s been a week since he saw her last and it feels like too long,

“I’ve got to come get the cat at some point, right? Maria usually has her, but from what I hear, you’ve been getting along like a house on fire.”

Tony looks around for the black cat, unable to see her.

“I suppose,” he grumbles.

“You’ll keep her company for a couple of weeks?”

He hopes that’s all it is, he doesn’t want to tell her he’s already ordered food and scratching post and a few other things to make the cat more comfortable.

“I suppose,” he repeats.

“Where are you going?”

He’ll track them anyway, but he wants her to know he’s interested.

“Barbados,” she tells him. “The beach.”

Tony smiles, he remembers Clint being excited about the trip, which felt like so long ago.

“I’m glad you’re going,” he admits.

“Me too.”

Natasha takes an audible breath.

“Thank you, for everything,” she says softly into the phone. He hates that it sounds like goodbye.

“Always Nat. Need me to do anything whilst you’re away?”

Clint takes the phone back, as he answers.

“Nah, we’re good, but maybe don’t make the cat fat?”

Tony’s already looked into where they mentioned they’re staying; the hotel and plane. He updates the booking and changes the flights to first class.

“Okay,” he says absentmindedly.

“You’ll take care of each other?”

Clint answers straight away, sending a text at the same time.

“Of course,” he says.

Thanks; the text reads.

He’s the bearer of bad news at breakfast as he eats with both Steve and Bruce.

“They’ve gone,” he reveals, digging into the eggs that Steve had scrambled.

Bruce sips his coffee, nodding like he knew it was coming.

Steve’s back is turned, so he can’t get a read on his face. His hunched shoulders look disappointed though.

“What do we do now?” he asks, turning to face Tony, his face disappointed and serious.

Shrugging, Tony feels at a loss as well. Everything has been secondary to getting Natasha well, or safe, that going back to normal seems wrong somehow.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly.

“I don’t know.”

A week earlier.

Clint revels in the heat of the shower. Finally, things feel more stable, the routine of life almost back to pre-sickness levels, and yes, the trauma of life still weighs heavily on him, and yes, everything they do is reactionary to Natasha’s stressors and triggers, but it almost feels manageable.

It’s not like before when they had to contend with shield and reprogramming and setting up Natasha with a whole new identity.

It’s now that she needs to reset, find out who she is again, given everything that life has thrown at her.

He hopes his thoughts aren’t wrong.

It hurts to see her in pain, or dissociative at times, and he’d do anything to take it away from her, but it does feel promising the progress she’s made in the last week with the help of the therapist, and consistency of routine.

Stabilising, is perhaps the word he’s looking for.

Some hours are worse than others, but some are better.

Natasha is nothing, if not resilient. She takes what life throws at her and she takes it all in, deals with it and puts on a brave face to the world, even if inside she’s dying.

He hopes that’s not how she feels.

He turns off the water and steps out, drying and dressing himself monotonously.

Hoping to find her in the place he left her, Clint walks into the bedroom, finding her asleep, somewhat peacefully on the bed.

It’s something.

Sleep isn’t easy, just as the therapist had said.

Nightmares plague her brain in disjointed images. She shoots Jace, pushes Clint off the bridge, tasers Tony in the face.

Each time, she wakes up sweating.

She eyes the sleeping tablets, and takes it as prescribed, feeling guilt at the failure.

No, she tells herself, that’s wrong; medication is not a failure.

She’s been getting better at the self talk, the recalibration of self and soul, but old habits die hard.

Clint’s shower seems long as the tablets take hold.

She wanted to tell him that she’s ready.

For the sea.

For the change in scenery.

He had asked in therapy a week ago, if she still wanted to go to Barbados.

She barely remembered the trip that they had planned with what felt like a lifetime ago.

She’d not known what to say.

Change and moving from their safe little corner of the world was not something she could even entertain. She barely left the house, sometimes only going to the tower if he made her, or the therapist challenged it.

Nothing felt safe anymore.

Sometimes not even in her own body.

He’d not mentioned it again.

But sometimes it was all she could think of.

The thought, once implanted, was sometimes true only good thing to think.

Blue skies.

Blue seas.

Somewhere that she could forget all of this had happened.

Escape.

Natasha lets sleep claim her.

No dreams, she tells her brain, please no dreams.

Clint wakes her, the daylight breaking through the window. There’s sweat on her brow, despite the cool of the room.

There’s still moments of panic as she transitions from sleep, but it’s not met with a knife to his face as he talks her down, or a wild punch that comes at his nose.

Nowadays it’s just a frown as recognition dawns, and then a nod, as she takes herself to the bathroom.

Today though, Natasha watches him.

He wishes he knew what she was thinking.

“Bad dreams?” he asks, hoping it’s not the wrong thing to say.

“Something like that,” she replies, voice quite on the air.

“Do you still want to go?” she asks cryptically.

He cocks his head in confusion.

“Go where?”

Natasha reaches over for his hand.

“Barbados. Do you still want to go?”

Emotions swirl in his being.

He’d forgotten what hope felt like.

“It’s okay if you don’t…” she starts, a slight frown of disappointment on her face.

“No,” he kiss her hand, “of course I do, of course…”

He looks at her, taking her in.

“Are you sure?”

The small smile that appears is something he’s missed. Not even remembering the last time she smiled, he can’t help but smile with her.

“Yeah,” she replies. “Yes.”

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too-many-rooks · 2 months

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Writing procrastination game!

Thanks @lastlymatt for tagging me, I got rambly so I’ll put this under a ‘read more’

Tagging @pigandpepper @known-concepts @countessrivers

1.) what’s the name of one of your wips?

My doc names are usually very boring 95% of the time I finish a fic and think it’s ready to post and realise I need a title. How about ‘Yassen Bedroom Visit’?

2.) Describe a Wip in the format of __+__=__

SCORPIA heir Alex + totally normal kidnapping and drugging in the middle of the night get to safety orienteering exercises = childhood trauma

3.) What tags/warnings will one of your Wips need if you share it?

Forced child seperation?

4.) alternative title to a wip?

I don’t really have alternate titles! Titles tend to come pretty late in the process!

5.) which wip are you most likely to update/finish next?

Probably one of my s3 aus I’ve got brewing, there’s a longer thing I posted the first chapter of today but I also have some one shots, one where Yassen gets wounded fighting off Alex’s enemies and Alex basically has to hold him down to say he cares about him, and another where Yassen comes to chat to him in the middle of the night (while Alex is sleeping) and they catch up.

6.) what is one of your wip’s document title, not what it’s name is but what you have it saved as?

Again, extremely boring. Some examples - ‘Tom/House introduction’, ‘stables’, ‘the ball’, ‘heir apparent 1-9’, ‘hunting’ ‘hostage’ ‘orienteering.’

On reflection, these are very badly organised. But, hey Ho.

7.) post any sentence from your WIP?

Okay this took me forever to decide bc I want to share like, all of my sentences, but here’s a sentence from my SCORPIA heir Alex thing where Yassen just tries to take a day off, but is interrupted by Alex sneaking out of school/the country and mountain his school is on

‘Rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, he blocked out the little blonde headache sat before him, and sighed, already imagining the state of his email inbox when he got back to his laptop, which he’d sworn would stay folded in its case for the rest of the day.

“And how long ago was this? When should I start expecting panicked calls from your father?”‘

8.) a scrapped idea from your WIP?

Not necessarily a scrapped idea but evidently one I forgot about and rediscovered as I was flicking through google docs - originally a pre-season 3 idea (but could work post s3) where Yassen retires, and decides it’s time for Alex to retire too, even if he doesn’t want to. Very “congratulations you are being adopted! Do not resist.” Meme with Yassen that I’ve seen on here, the bit I’d written was him contemplating the least traumatising way to kidnap him, to make sure they’re a happy family unit post-kidnapping

9.) what’s a story you would love to write but have yet to start?

Alex sees dead people AU - Ian knows, when he dies his ghost becomes bound to Alex, and helps take care of him/watch over him in the field, Alex bumps into Yassen at Point Blanc and immediately recognises the ghost bound to him as his father, especially as he begs the assassin to stop pretending like he can’t hear him for once and let him see his son, to protect him.

10.) how many WIPs are you actively working on?

Four - regency fic, darker Alex s3 au, two other s3 aus I mentioned earlier. Suprised myself by how much of this longer ‘SCORPIA heir’ Alex thing that I’d put off for a while I’ve actually written. That’s one that I really want to finish before I start posting bc I’m bad at doing work without an immediate emotional reward/it’s a longer than anything I’ve written before and I don’t want to give up on it when it’s half published. I had been delaying it till after s3 but maybe time to get to work (will try and finish regency fic first)

11.) is there a scene your struggling to write now?

Oh I mean so many but the most immediate stumbling block is with the regency fic, chapter after this one they go to a ball and that’s almost basically written and so is a lot of the next two chapters but there’s things I need to thread into this chapter that just don’t want to be threaded - I need Alex to start being a bit more suspicious of Yassen, and remember that whole thing about his uncle being murdered now he’s a bit passed the initial princess diaries revelation moment.

I was thinking like Alex waiting up for him on Christmas Eve or something and falls asleep then is woken by Yassen sneaking back in and Alex noticed he’s got blood on his clothes or something and Yassen just shrugs him off and reacts more strictly/authoritatively than he has before. But the scene is a bit sludgy I my mind atm.

12.) Not a question but a second kudos!

#Alex rider #tag game

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captainelliecomb · 1 year

Text

Ten Most Recent Fics Meme

Killing time before a delayed flight. Found this via @nossbean.

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway

Not tagging anyone, but I hope some of you do it anyway.

All but one are Jaime x Brienne.

My takeaway from it: I need to: write more monster fucking, space aus, and weird west stories, and finish the Quest fic.

Jaime Lannister and the Quest for the Missing Sword

Summary: "You told me you found Tarth." Jaime narrowed his eyes at Tyrion. "Here, in the frozen North. You mock me still."The woman jerked. Her expression was easily readable for a moment. Surprise. Fear. Hope?It was gone before he could decide.Tyrion looked between them. "Sweet brother," he said in that knowing tone. "I present to you Brienne, the last of the Tarths."

Archaeologist and librarian AU of a sort. My first story with Jaime POV chapters. I love writing Brienne’s POV, but dual POVs worked best here. Trying to wrap this up soon.

Smoke and Mirrors

Summary: Jaime was a feast for the senses.

Modern AU. I have notes on a much longer chefs AU, but I had to cut it back because of the word limit on the exchange. The longer version will be written eventually.

Winter Knights and Spring

Summary: They were winter knights still living for the spring.

Book canon. I wanted to write something sweet and fluffy. I think it worked.

Tell Me a Story

Summary: Tarth has its fair share of ghost stories. The drowned, ships of the dead, sweet songs luring men out to sea.

Book canon. I love the idea of Brienne singing for Jaime when she never allowed herself to sing for Renly or Cat. What better place to write it than in a story about stories and songs. Shame I don’t actually write songs, or I would have included one.

Never Easy Prey

Summary: The sun was almost gone by the time she made it to the source of the glint, a long, narrow metal box. Unlocked. Easy to open. Inside, a small pack filled with packets of pureed something. Food, from what she'd seen elsewhere, but there was no telling what went into it. Water. A spear taller than she was and surprisingly light. The inside of the lid was completely covered in writing. Most symbols she had never seen before. One short line looked Yautja. And a human word. English word. Run.

Alien vs. Predator, Scar x Alexa Woods. I didn’t notice quite how far I’d gone into the Jaime x Brienne rabbit hole until I saw this was the only non-JxB fic I wrote since 2021. There isn’t even any monster fucking in it!

Oh So Easy, Oh So Hard

Summary: Riverrun is their beginning.

Show canon AU of a sort. One of the prompts was to write the 8x04 scene in a different setting, and I ran with it. I obsessively listened to one song per chapter, which I’m not sure I’ve done before.

Finest, Furthest, Most Unknown Edge

Summary: For the rest of her days, Brienne will never know what causes the crash. All she wants, more than her own survival, is for the Stark girls to be safe. Instead, they're trapped on an alien planet filled with unknown danger. Then she finds the man, bound, and battered, and broken. The biggest threat may not be the planet itself but whatever horrors follow a fallen Lannister.

Space AU. I love space aus. This is one of the few I’ve written. I should do another.

Come Over and Make Up My Mind

Summary: Five times Brienne swears it's the very last time...

Modern AU. The prompt was “Conflicted”, one of the few Halestorm songs I’d never heard before. Quite enjoyed going back to my writing roots. All porn all the time.

Drink Deep

Summary: Murderer. Monster. Man without honour. She loves him, all of him, even so.

Vampire western AU. Technically monster fucking, though I rarely count vampires in that. Do love a good weird west au.

Here We Go to War

Summary: War to the east, the Dragon queen and her foreign armies come to take back the Seven Kingdoms with fire and blood and demand the North bend the knee.

War to the south, the Lannister queen took her throne in wildfire and the blood of innocents and demands the head of Sansa Stark.

War to the north, beyond the Wall, the Night King and his army of the dead demand nothing but death.

War comes for them all.

In the middle, two tired knights try to protect the ones they love and the ones to whom they're sworn.

Show AU. Jaime leaves Cersei after she blows up the Sept and things escalate from there. As did the story. Started as one scene, a love confession in a bath, and ended up going on for nearly 50,000 words.

#jaime x brienne #alexa woods x scar #fic

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valkyrie-night-103 · 1 year

Note

I know you've shown it to me before but could you please provide your followers with a bit of information about the esports au? Also, I love you loads!

Love you too, babe <3

I’ve actually developed the esports au a little more, I hope y’all enjoy! My tag for this AU is #a word from our sponsors

And now, a word from our sponsors

Kenny Omega is a young Canadian upstart in the world of esports, and after winning a large amateur tournament when nobody knew who he was, he quickly gains a sizeable following of diehard fans. In a matter of weeks, he becomes one of the most interesting free agents in competitive gaming, receiving multiple contract offers from some big name teams.

Despite this, all Kenny wants is a match against Kota Ibushi, a shining young member of Dramatic Dream Team, a relatively small Japanese Esport team all about fun and enjoying gaming.

Kota accepts and DDT make the arrangements, and Kenny flies over to have the match. It’s intense, but Kenny loses the best of three. Kota offers his hand to shake and Kenny hugs him.

Kota hugs back emphatically (much to Kenny’s relief) and whispers “good game” which are pretty much the only English words he knows that aren’t profanities. He pats Kenny’s back in a way that he hopes is friendly and not too over-familiar. Kenny sniffles through a strongly accented expression of gratitude— or maybe it’s a congratulations, he’s not sure. But if Kota’s shoulder is a little wet where Kenny rested his head? Well, that’s nobody’s business but his.

DDT brings Kenny back for another match, highly impressed by his showing and notoriety. This time, it’s a doubles match with Kenny and Kota on opposite sides. Kenny’s team wins by the skin of their teeth in a fantastic finish that is so wonderfully executed that it makes Kota smile even as he loses. Kenny offers his teammate a high-five, but he’s too busy talking shit, so Kota intercepts with a high-five of his own. It makes Kenny laugh, and he interlocks their hands before pulling him in for the kind of one-armed bro-hug men do when they don’t know how to communicate affection.

Backstage, he makes sure to get Kota’s Facebook so they can see what the other is up to. And his phone number, so they can keep in touch. And his address, so they can mail each other location-exclusive Pokémon cards.

He barely puts his phone down for the next few weeks, and spends far too many nights staying up late to keep talking with Kota. Every time the message notification lights up his screen, he smiles, even though he knows it’ll probably be another google-translated message that neither of them understand. They quickly find their way around the language barrier, communicating through memes, nerdy references, and stupid selfies.

Kenny is invited to headline a big event in a match against Kota, the first in a best-of-seven to establish their rivalry— but they independently request the opportunity to team with the other. DDT are reluctant, but eventually cave.

It’s a massive success, drawing insane viewership and a clear victory.

Kenny is asked to join DDT full time— and so, he uproots his entire North American life to move to Japan and play in an actual team for the first time. The pay isn’t great, but he’s actually living off his hobby. That’s more than he could say a month ago.

Kenny and Kota quickly become the best young duo in the whole team, though their methods are a little unorthodox. They quickly become best friends, almost from the moment they saw each other. They become inseparable to the point where they start sharing rooms to cut costs when travelling for tournaments.

Eventually there is a booking mixup that results in them sharing a double bed, and when they wake up they realise that they must have moved in their sleep, because they find themselves spooning.

Things are a little bit awkward, but they get on with it as normal. Even so, it’s made something clearer to Kenny- he has a crush on Kota Ibushi. Equally obvious to him, is that he doesn’t want to ruin what he has, leaving him with the delicate balancing act that is being in love with your best friend.

#aew #all elite wrestling #wrestling #kenny omega #kenny omega my beloved #fic ask game #golden lovers #kota ibushi #aew ask game #a word from our sponsors

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nakimochiku · 7 months

Text

that fic meme

How many works do you have on AO3?: 142

What’s your total AO3 word count?: 408,786 (ooh. Not bad?)

What fandoms do you write for?: all. Hell baby i write for fandoms im not even IN. But at the moment, mdzs.

What are your top five fics by kudos: All this time I was just waiting for you (moon knight), These Violent Delights (moon knight), That a Ghost should be so practical (Hamilton), I don’t want anyone else (when i think about you)(moon knight), what we hate in others (we see in ourselves)(attack on titan)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?: i do cause i actually just really really wanna talk to people!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?: probably I Call The Shots(snk), everyone died. Or Keep Pushing (snk), everyone is GOING to die.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?: probably Found a Place to Rest my Head (saiyuki), cause no one dies and they adopt kids.

Do you get hate on fics?: on this one particular Hannibal fic

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?: All kinds. Partial to anything with any kinda dirty talk/praise kink. Literally cant write smut without that featured. After that, a lot of D/s tones.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?: I’ve actually never written a crossover?! Like at most ive written “ y characters in x universe” like. Typical hogwarts au or some shit. Craziest of those i’ve written was a sentinel/guide au for spn.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?: probably not and im not sure id care even if i did.

Have you ever had a fic translated?: Yep!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?: Nothing that ever got published. Mostly shooting shit with friends.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?: Impossible to answer. Changes on every rewatch even of old favs. But i can tell you my ship dynamic! Rivals to friends to lovers. Gimme some rivals to ship ANY day.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?: This University Au for moon knight that is sitting half finished in my Docs is fucking haunting me.

What are your writing strengths?: Putting my whole pussy into whatever it is i’m writing. Also, imagery and extended metaphors.

What are your writing weaknesses?: Cohesion. The ideas are there but smoothing them together is so tough!

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?: I wish i could do it because it adds a flavour of authenticity to the fic but… i also know i hate reading it, and if i can suspend my disbelief and IMAGINE the character is speaking a different language when im told they are, thats enough.

First fandom you wrote for?: Technically Yugioh, but never posted. So Officially, Naruto.

Fave fic you’ve written?: impossible question BUT gun to my head for an answer, i think i did a DAMN GOOD job on Artemis Agrotera (the walking dead). Some A+ imagery and extended metaphors there.

tagging any mutuals who haven’t done this yet. But also specifically @first-renegade

#Forgive the shitty formatting #fic meme

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kingkatsuki · 1 year

Note

Alright bestie I just have to say thank you. Thank you for using your platform to try and improve this site for the rest of us. Thank you for dealing with hate and anons who spend their precious time here on this planet trying to tear you down instead of trying to lift others up.

I never really get hate, but it’s mostly because I never really say what I think about this shit. And boy do I have some thoughts on the culture of fanfiction, specifically on here. So I can’t even imagine what it would be like to consistently have random people who feel the need to hide behind the anon icon come and attack you for literally standing up for the rest of us.

You make me want to be better, and while I already tried to support other creators I am much more adamant about at least putting comments in my reblog tags, if not the reblog itself. Bc as a writer I know that those comments are what keep me going, so why wouldn’t I take the extra second to say something nice to others (especially my faves) and help keep them motivated to keep giving us such wonderful gifts?

You also make me want to go through my follower list and do a purge…. Which like yeah that’ll probs demolish my follower count but also would promote the same things you’re encouraging people to do. Bc if people get blocked by a bunch of creators maybe the concept will get through to them that they should start supporting people so we can keep fueling their reading desires.

So yeah. Thanks for being your sassy, courageous and supportive self and lookin out for us smaller creators who literally depend on others to stay motivated. I know I’ve been working on two pieces for like two months each and have felt so demotivated that whole time even though they’re almost done and I was so passionate about them in the beginning. So like thanks bestie. You are appreciated by many, myself included 🥰💕

(Please enjoy this little piece I have made for you to show my gratitude lmao. You just make me think of this all the fuckin time)

Hihihi Cel my lovely! I hope you’re having a good Wednesday!

I think the thing I find most peculiar about the whole thing is people would rather send shitty messages calling me out for having the audacity to block people who don’t interact otherwise, than just say “that was good” on a fic. Isn’t that quicker?

There are other writers blocking people for the same though, I know Aali is doing it actively now and for the same reasons and I think Kitten and a few more are so it isn’t just me! But I think at the end of the day it’s just us making a nice little circle of supportive people that wanna enjoy tumblr together?

I know I’ve had loads of people message me that they genuinely didn’t understand the importance of reblogging in terms of the algorithm on tumblr and you know what coming from places like tiktok or twt I get that, but it’s just about trying to give a little appreciation back to the people that have made your day you know? Like given you a comfort fic with your fave when you’re having a shifty day? Or a sexy little piece to fap to? Or something angsty when you need to feel something?

I really hope you find the motivation to finish off your WIPs! I know my motivation has been dwindling so I’m with you in the trenches in that sense lovely! That passion for them can return, and I hope it does!💕

Also thank you for the meme!! It’s given me a smile after a shitty day at work!😂💕

#jo talks

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organchordsandlightning · 1 year

Text

10 Stories/10 First Lines Tag Meme

Tagged by @shadow0haven!

Tagging @magnetarmadda and @fruitviking - but same deal as previous, if you’ve been tagged previous/don’t wanna, no worries!

So the rules are: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published AO3 stories.

This actually works out well! I post a fair amount anonymously, not because I don’t want my name attached, but because they’re usually one-offs for other fandoms! have skipped one or two of my Malevolent pieces to prevent this from being Oops All Mal!

So let’s goooooo, MASH, Sherlock Holmes, Re-Animator, Glass Onion, and Malevolent under the cut:

formaldehyde (malevolent)

This was going to take some getting used to.

His initial reaction was that of fear. The body wouldn’t take. Its entire form seized from within – the chest creaked dangerously, stretching and constricting like some fucking balloon. Every tendon was pulled out of place, the bones bent under the stress. The brain boiled within the cracking skull, all of it – all of it too much for a single body to bear.

heal thyself (malevolent)

“I’m sure I caught my death out there,” Arthur bemoans. The bed squeaks underneath his weight as he sits down. Boots first – no, no, jacket, sodden with barely-melted snow. He fumbles with the buttons all the way down.

Yes, Arthur. After everything that’s happened, I’m sure it’s a bout of pneumonia that’ll take us out.

libel (sherlock holmes)

Watson climbed the same stairs as he had a thousand times. One could never know what to expect from Holmes at the top of them: the bubbling of some unknown solution, the melodious cries of his violin, the mumbles of another client approaching him for help. Just as often as all of those, however, Watson entered to utter silence.

divine retribution (sherlock holmes)

It was a most peculiar hour for Watson to find himself in front of 31 Lyon Place. Only a scant few hours before sunrise – a scant few hours ago he had left the front door of 221b Baker Street. Their discussion with Mary Sutherland had gone on longer than either had anticipated, but Watson had been unwilling to desert Holmes’ side in the presence of a crying woman.

That was, as Watson believed, the extent of comfort he was able to provide. He did not know what else to say, nor how to help.

a light in the dark (malevolent)

“Good morning, John!”

Kill me, John grunts, with less venom than his usual – even, he considers, a note of warmth. A kill me that secretly means I’m happy to see you. Lilly’s entrance is John’s final sign that he made it through another night.

the herald of death (sherlock holmes)

Their horse ambled along at a slow trot. Uncertain, Watson supposed, in the darkness: the two lanterns on either side of the cart provided some warm illuminating spheres, but somehow managed to throw the rest of the world in utter shadow. Watson could nearly cup the light in his fingertips, but he could not cast it out to the streets. All of London, a metropolis that hummed with man and machinery, had quieted to just their little dog-cart.

Perhaps that was not so much due to the time, nor the lack of light, but Holmes himself. Watson cast a glance to his side. His companion was not urging the horse further, seemingly content to continue at their pace. Holmes had drawn his chin low to his chest in thought, but his eyes were keen in the reflection of their lantern.

a terrible trip and a warm light (glass onion)

Blanc stayed in the stairwell of their building a little longer to finish the rest of his cigar. While Phillip had been more lenient about him smoking indoors – so long as he was near the window and for heaven’s sake, Blanc, empty the ashtray – he thought it might be best for their reunion if he finished beforehand.

The only reason he’d taken one out was to settle his nerves. Not anxious, per se, but worn-out, strung-out, and washed-out. Getting back from Greece had taken a day or so longer than he anticipated. Little frustrated him more than petty bureaucracy, and international travel could be full of it. His luggage was still knocking around Italy somewhere, and his phone little more than a pile of melted plastic on a damned Greek island.

sweet dreams (malevolent)

Thrashing, gasping, drowning, he burst through unconsciousness with a shout he didn’t recognize. Terrible shapes lurked in the edges of his mind; for a second, he swore he could hear someone’s giddy laugh. Something cut into his neck, so solid that he brought his hand up to peel the thick strap of leather away. He found nothing there but a deep bruise, making him wince in pain.

containment (MASH)

BJ’s on his feet before he hears the explosion. His mind races for the clinical: Blunt force trauma. Shrapnel. Blood loss. Burns. Other diagnoses, sure, but a nasty case of tinnitus isn’t going to kill as fast as a perforated bowel will. He only dimly notes Hawkeye’s empty cot as he forces himself outside, and then –

determined heart and resolved will (re-animator)

For Dan, it was easy to get lulled away by the day. Not like his job was easy – maybe some doctors had it easy, but none that worked at the Miskatonic University Medical Center. Still, Dan often found that he didn’t have to introspect as he worked. People needed him to be a doctor; he could be a doctor. Sure, maybe he’d fall to pieces after his shift, a particularly bad case or a particularly bad memory hitting him all at once …

Well. Maybe more often than he would admit. He had some memories in this very hospital that he’d rather forget. But, on shift, it was Dr. Cain. The reliable, the industrious, the bright Dr. Cain. Only newly a doctor, but he knew this place like the back of his hand.

“We’ve got a suicide attempt in 4,” Nurse Reefe remarked to him over Dan’s lunch. “Just thought I’d let you know.”

#organchordsandwriting

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wingsyouburn · 2 years

Text

I posted 969 times in 2022

52 posts created (5%)

917 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ace-sailor-uranus

@tilltheendwilliwrite

@runicmagitek

@ricochetoconnell

@obihoekenobi

I tagged 966 of my posts in 2022

#fanart - 118 posts

#writer problems - 90 posts

#preach - 77 posts

#final fantasy vii - 76 posts

#star wars - 51 posts

#the mummy - 46 posts

#accurate - 43 posts

#your face sir - 39 posts

#meme time - 37 posts

#story: how wild are we - 32 posts

Longest Tag: 98 characters

#i have no intention of watching this movie but i would so make a character with this face and look

My Top Posts in 2022:

"Don't cover your face, I want to see you." Ardeth/Rick/Evy if you please!

Um... this is going behind a cut because it is filthy, yet I don't think you'll mind ;)

Probably will ended up putting on AO3 later!

Ardeth leaned back in the bed, resting on his forearms. His hands fisted the sheets, willing his body to remain still as Evy undid his trousers. He’d ached all evening, through the meal they shared with others in his village, through the pleasantries of socializing afterwards. The O’Connells coming to visit was a reason for celebration with food, drink, and song.

If only the villagers realized the real reason for their arrival, and it had nothing to do with ancient artifacts, ruins, or undead creatures threatening to kill them all.

No, they were here for Ardeth, and Ardeth had been patient, waiting for their arrival. Only now, they were finally alone, in Ardeth’s bedroom. Evy took Ardeth’s cock in hand and stroked him, cooing softly. “It’s been too long,” she murmured. A pink tongue flicked over the head. “I expected you to ravage me the moment we set foot in town.”

He grunted, dragging a hand over his face. “You are worth the wait.” His eyes flicked over to Rick, lounging in the chair in the corner.

Rick reached inside his own pants, fisting himself. Soon it would be Ardeth’s hand, and Ardeth’s mouth, wrapped around that girth. His mouth watered in anticipation, even as Evy’s lips slid down Ardeth’s erection.

“All of us are out of patience,” Rick grunted. “Especially me.”

Ardeth vowed to tend to both of his lovers, ensuring they wanted for nothing while they were in his home and among his people. Yet he couldn’t focus, not when Rick teased him with his actions, and Evy with her sinful mouth. He rocked his hips into Evy, long hair falling into his face. He made no move to fix it, choosing instead to thread a hand into Evy’s hair.

“Don’t cover your face,” Rick said, “I want to see you. All of you.”

Evy arched her back and glanced over at her husband. “Greedy. You’ll get your turn.”

“And then I’ll take care of both of you.” Ardeth sat up, and, because Rick asked, tied his hair into a loose ponytail. “Better?”

With a shit-eating grin, Rick relaxed back into his seat and stroked himself. “Much.”

“Boys,” Evy drawled, “focus. Sex now, talking later.”

Rick chuckled. “You heard the lady.”

Ardeth couldn’t deny Evy or Rick anything. To have them both here was a gift, and he didn’t intend to waste it. Tonight was just the beginning.

21 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

Ardeth and the flower crown!

Somewhere in tumblr land there was fanart of Ardeth in a flower crown and he looked so happy and I went to write a little piece and now I can't remember how I planned to finish it ._.

I do have a snippet!

Ardeth squinted against the midday sun, eyes ever scanning the open air market. Years spent on patrol left him on edge, always waiting for an unseen enemy to make an appearance, even when all should be well.

Ahead of him, Evy skipped from stall to stall, talking to each shopkeep as if they were old friends and asking about their wares. Her Egyptian was flawless, but her smile won everyone over. A basket draped over her arm, already filled with goodies from the market. Luckily Ardeth had made sure the horses’ saddlebags had enough room for everything Evy wanted to bring back to camp.

Likewise, they’d lost Rick at the weapons dealer at the opposite end of the market. Ardeth glanced over his shoulder at the broad-shouldered man, talking animatedly with the dealer and testing out blades. Rick, too, would be laded with goodies of the sharpest kind.

Ardeth remained between them, a watchful eye on both parties. He had no need for anything here at the market. Everything he wanted was already within his grasp. The two people who held his heart, happy, enjoying themselves, allowing Ardeth to remain by their side.

“Ardeth!” Evy flagged him down with a jump and a wave of her hand. “Over here!”

27 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

Fic: Welcome Home (The Mummy)

Title: Welcome Home

Fandoms: The Mummy

Characters: Evy Carnahan O'Connell, Rick O'Connell, Alex O'Connell

Pairing: Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell

Rating: Gen

AO3 Tags: Parenting, Character Study

Summary: Rick meets baby Alex for the first time.

Notes: Based on this fanart from @the-french-belphegor on Tumblr, of Rick cuddling with Alex. I meant to clean this up and post it months ago, but life be like that sometimes. I hope you enjoy!

He thought he’d known fear. Those memories paled in comparison to the moment when the nurse laid the tiny baby into his arms. His son, his and Evy’s.