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aclowntiny · 8 months

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Kalon- Model!Jun x Female!Assistant!Reader

My piece for September Candyland 🍭 Kalon: beauty that is more than skin deep. Inspired in part by Jukebox the Ghost’s Jumpstarted hehe

Word Count: 3500 | Model AU, Coworkers to Lovers | Warnings: minor sexism, rude coworkers (not Jun), physical insults but not targeted to any feature

Tagging @chwecandi & @sunnylovespickles too just in case I messed up the tumblr tag 😄

“He’s so hot,” they muttered outside the doors and even in the halls, “how is he real?”

Your glasses were a little too large for your face- they kept sliding down, forcing you to push them up. The office was a dream come true, but you couldn’t help feeling intimidated. Wen Junhui was a famous model, practically the newest industry legend, and you had gotten the job managing things in his office. You’d probably hardly see the man himself in person, but the starstruck feeling persisted regardless. It felt odd to be an invisible player for such a public figure, a fixture of awe.

Qualified for the job as you were, you felt out of place, frankly. You weren’t sure of the office dress code, opting for something off the plainer end of your wardrobe just to blend in, you hadn’t had time for much makeup, and your hair sure wasn’t anything spectacular that day either. Everyone you passed by, models and photographers and makeup artists, barely spared you glances.

At least you’d be paid well and have a great line on your résumé. You enjoyed keeping things organized and that was what the model known simply as Jun needed. His life was organized chaos, and you were to be the former half of the phrase.

Footsteps echoed behind you as you made for the glass door of your office. “Oh, excuse me,” you said, stepping forward and holding the door open. As you turned, you were met with the stunning smile of a man in a suit.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. Oh, say, you must be the one who’s here to help me out.” Jun himself stood before you, expression bright. The words may have seemed condescending coming from someone else’s mouth, but his whole affect was so genuine the thought of him judging you didn’t even cross your mind.

Precious little did cross your mind beneath the sheer starstrike of meeting the very man who received such buzz behind his back, such almost mystery at his poise and looks. Several heartbeats passed before you even replied at all.

“Yes, I am. My name is-”

“Wait!” He stopped you eagerly, smile growing wider. “I want to make sure I remember correctly! (y/n), right?”

“Yep,” you stuttered a bit, clutching your folder to your chest, “yep, that’s me.”

“I hope you can enjoy working here. If you need anything, please tell me.”

“That’s what I should be telling you!” You burst out before you could stop yourself.

Luckily for your career, your new coworker chuckled at that. “I like to think both of us can help each other,” he replied warmly, finally disappearing through the door you held open, making sure it didn’t hit you as you followed.

This was going to be a great job, you could tell. Respect levels varied among who you worked with, one set of higher-ups dismissively asking you to bring coffee for an eight person meeting like you weren’t Jun’s personal assistant, just a lowly receptionist or intern, but respect came where it mattered.

Placing the last to-go cup in the mostly-flat quadrant carrier, you checked off the last of the coffees and teas ordered by the directors, agents, and models. Sighing, you pocketed the used list, sliding your hand underneath the one carrier and hoping you wouldn’t spill anything while your hands were full. It wasn’t that you minded grabbing coffee, it was more the way they asked, AKA demanded. They didn’t see you at the same level as the other assistants or even secretaries, whether that was because you were new, a young woman, or simply less chic. Had the man even uttered a ‘please’ you would have felt different.

“Hey, that’s a lot. You shouldn’t even be doing this.”

Turning, you saw Jun at your back, concern etched across his handsome face.

“I- I don’t mind,” you stammered, attempting to lift both carriers like waiter’s trays.

“Oh, no no no, let me get one, please.” Sliding his hand beneath yours, the model deftly plucked four of the drinks from your hand. “That guy was so rude, if he wasn’t a huge investor I would have punched him. You don’t even work for him. You must be so much kinder than me,” he chuckled as you set back off down the hallway.

You flushed. “Well, like I said, I don’t mind, and I’m so new here, so-”

“I get it,” he nodded, tone calming, “I’ll mention it to them. Of course you don’t want to start any fights! You know our software like the back of your hand, though, and even your way around a camera. All those guys know is money signs. Don’t let them sell you short.”

“Ok,” you nodded shakily as the doorway approached, both of you disappearing back into the meeting room with its long, imposing table.

How did you get so lucky? The little smiley faces your…boss? Colleague? Jun wasn’t really your supervisor, come to think of it…sent you in all his emails and the stuffed cat on his desk named Jun Junior he waved you off with had had you smiling, but the way he took those coffees, the way he immediately told the suited big-wig you were a tech whiz, and you were there for him, not just some intern, had your heart fluttering.

Coffee runs you could handle, but petty high-school insults? Everyone was too old for that. You had earned your way into an amazing opportunity, taken too much care into your work to be pushed around by people talking about your looks behind your back. Especially when the man you worked with had such a big heart.

The same people who wondered if Jun could be real wondered how someone with your appearance could work so closely with him.

“She should be ashamed coming to a place like this looking so plain.”

“I know. Doesn’t she know she works for a modeling agency, not some temp desk?”

“They must have done a blind interview, otherwise they would have known she doesn’t match our image at all. I wonder what Mr. Wen thinks.”

“Not much, I bet.”

“What a shame. Well, she’s a secretary for sure,” the first woman flipped her ponytail off her sleek, purple-silk-clad shoulder as she gave a small shrug.

At the time, you said nothing, passing by as if their words rolled over muffed ears. Verbal spats would solve nothing but the question of if you would stoop down to their level, and just like with the coffee there would be no falling for that on your first day at work. Day one in that beautiful white-tiled building with all its glass panels you apparently looked like only belonged in as some sort of substitute.

Proving them wrong silently, though? Not a qualm in the world.

You’d scheduled a haircut for that night after work, so the moment you said your good nights to the remaining few staff and cleaners heading out with you it was straight to the salon. Barbed words spurred you on to take the risk on the chair, daring the fresh hairstyle you’d considered off and on the last few times.

It looked amazing. Shaking your hair out with satisfaction, you gave one more glance into your mirror at home before pulling open your closet doors.

Day Two of your job. That morning, you’d opted for your nicest business-casual dress and done your favorite hair and makeup look, feeling more ready than ever to step out of that elevator.

And sure enough, when you did, you were met with whispers beneath doorway sheens, eyebrows raised beneath Prada glasses. Half of you wanted to tell those people off, speak into their stares exactly why they should be ashamed at treating you like a different person for conforming to the speech of their shallow hearts. The other half, though? It had your shoulders raising a bit with pride at turning heads.

Reflection reaching for the long silver handle of your translucent office door, you stepped in with a newly burning passion for your day’s work, starting it with the difficult call you’d been putting off, one you knew would require a bit of negotiation.

You argued perfectly for the best shoot conditions Jun could have, and when you tapped into his office he did an almost childish double-take that had you flushing.

“Wow,” he breathed, sitting up straighter, “uh, hi. What did you need?”

This was one stubborn tripod. Whoever had previously set it up, they’d locked the legs so tight it took every muscle in your hands to pry the thin solid cylinders apart. Fingers working between them, you finally unlatched the last hold and pulled the trio back into their triangular state, glasses sliding down your nose at your downward stance.

“All right, I can take the camera now.”

At your word the photographer hooked up his device and you carefully placed it in its spot just outside the makeshift set.

A few weeks had passed since that tentative first few days, time to earn some respect for practically rewriting the whole agency office’s scheduling program and undeniably increasing efficiency. Despite that, though, your heart was falling more and more into the field, jobs that had you cramming supplies into Jun’s company car and sliding into the backseat with him for a quick debrief before assisting tech. While the model himself got his makeup done, you learned more and more of what models went through and even tips the photographers gave them nine out of ten times they stood before the camera: ways to turn, flattering poses, all the fake behaviors to play at eating or using products, even the generic photoshoot smile Jun had taught you through his jokes in the car and called you a natural at. Even the ruder office-mates had cause to shut up seeing you do more physical work they didn't want to do anyway.

"Where is the man of the hour, anyway?" The jovial photographer asked, hands upon paisley-belted waist.

"Probably getting his makeup finished," you giggled, leaning against the drink table behind the scenes.

"Well, I'm sure he looks great. Go get him out here- he won't listen to anyone but you,” the man teased, waving you forward with a smile.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the man meant as you shuffled off, straightening the blouse you’d chosen to balance comfort and style. It was fun in its own right, thinking of those things, even if it was exhausting.

Verity of the photographer’s words or not, Jun did sit right up at your call. You shared what he said about the model looking great, summoning one of the bright laughs you loved from his lips. He tilted his head like a cat, lashes fluttering a bit.

“What do you think?”

Your body had already half-turned to leave the brightly lit bustle of artists and their dusty craft as he spoke. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do you think I look good, (y/n)?” It was almost startling the way breathed the question, fixing you with that intensely inquisitive stare. Jun meant it, truly cared what you thought, hoped he measured up. People spoke of him like he was something beyond humanity, but he was more human than so many of the people you met, so down to earth.

Breath hitching as you pushed up your glasses and took in the way his dark brown hair fell lightly tousled onto his brow, the way the stylist had unbuttoned just one less than usual of his shirt’s fastenings, the way the makeup artists had subtly brightened his lips, and all you could do was nod.

“Then I am ready,” he responded, smile widening as he followed you to the set and posed for the camera more magnificently than you’d seen yet.

The next day, you arrived to work strangely anxious. Leaving early had given you the opportunity to grab a little something extra; clutching the bag, you made to knock on Jun’s office door, but he beat you to it, stepping out right as you raised your hand.

“Oh, (y/n), perfect! Got a little something for you here.” In his outstretched hand was a to-go cup from the café you frequented.

A surreptitious turn of the cup proved it your usual order. You smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, I really need the caffeine this morning. I did not sleep well last night, you can probably tell.”

Smile staying put, Jun gave a little shake of his head. “Your heart still shines as bright as ever.”

As if those words hadn’t shot an arrow straight through your palpitating heart, you just glanced down at the bag in your hand. “Well, I was hoping to shine some light on your morning. I got you something too!”

“Is that…?” Lighting up, he peeled the white paper open and grinned like it was Christmas. “Muffins! We’re the best, aren’t we, (y/n)?”

At that, all you could do was laugh with him and remind him you guys had a call at ten.

This shoot was a two-person. Jun and a female model were posing together to show the men’s and women’s collection of a latest designer drop. This photographer was a bit less forgiving than the kind, fashionable gentleman you’d enjoyed setting up with last time. By that point, you were well used to business types. At least this guy didn’t demand you a starbucks run or a sandwich or anything.

Most of his ire was directed toward the poor beauty, demanding a more complicated pose of her than of Jun. You didn’t even want to think about why, just shook your head in sympathy as he criticized the way she bent. Jun was going to stand upright, one hand leaned casually on a little white column as he looked halfway into the camera, while she had to fold her arms across it practically bent at a ninety-degree angle. You’d seen that pose given to female models before, pulled it a few times just to imagine the uncomfortable tension at the base of the spine the women had to go through.

That, likely, was the problem. If you rolled your hips wrong, it could hurt, not to mention looking that much less natural. Rocking the boat was the last thing you wanted to do, but hearing the photographer criticize the woman’s inability to take the pose well just got to you, bringing you right back to your first days when everyone thought the new assistant beneath them. You’d proved them wrong, now it was this man’s turn.

“I think what he means to say,” you began, keeping your voice just timid and kind enough to dull the pointed inflection of your words, “is that it’s ok to keep your hips relaxed, like this.”

Jun stepped from his side of the podium, proudly waving you forward. Your eyes fell from his as you, faintly smiling, bent onto the short, gaudy column that was their set dressing. Keeping yourself relaxed was pretty easy- the temptation to stick out more simply wasn’t there for you. Sticking anything out, standing out, wasn’t something you craved on the daily.

But sometimes it felt good. “Yes! Exactly like that! She knows the pose,” the photographer half-praised, half-complained, tugging on his tie.

“Let her do it, then,” Jun suddenly spoke up.

“What?” The photographer goggled at him.

“Let her do it with us. She’s seen plenty of what we do. We all know I can’t go to a shoot without her. Why not let her get on the other side of the camera?”

The older man’s dark eyes slid your way, then drifted just as quickly back to Jun. “She’s not exactly a model.”

“You just said she knew the pose better than the pro,” he replied with crossed arms.

“She doesn’t have the look that fits our concept,” the photographer hissed, setting his camera down, “I mean, some people get hired to stand in front of a camera and some go behind it. There’s a vision for this brand, you understand.”

The words choked you a little, strangling your chest a little tighter than teenage-level barbs. In this man’s eyes, no one would believe you passed as part of the beauty industry. Such views were a given the way he spoke them- nobody would ever believe someone who looked like you would make it on a front page or an instagram post. You'd never be on a model's level, just the girl who worked for them. Perhaps that was what bothered you most- everyone around you dooming you to a lower plane of existence than the kind, handsome joy of a man you worked for with one look, one judgement.

“I do understand,” Jun replied, stripping the designer jacket off his chest and handing it to the stylist waiting at the camera, “and that’s something you’ll never have Wen Junhui’s support on. Find someone else to do the shoot.”

Never had Jun’s voice, always so soft and sweet and comforting, hardened like that. The sound of it had your back stiffening, almost startled out of the painful jolt to your chest and falling of your gaze. His tone was low, icy, and firm as he stepped calmly toward the illuminated exit of the studio hanging and oozing pale red light over the pristine white door. Your head swiveled back and forth between the exit and the studio, its pale blue background almost entirely empty.

"But- But-"

Protests, weak and incredulous, fell from your lips, but Jun shook his head, a small smile returning when he met your eyes again. "I'll take the hit on the client. The agency heads will understand when I'm done with them. We know what to say." He winked, and your shaky heart fluttered again.

"I know you didn't ask to model or anything," he continued, "and maybe you wouldn't have wanted to do it. But what that guy said? It made me mad. I didn't even know wrong words could make me feel angry like this until I heard what he said. This isn't the way I wanted to tell you this at all, I wanted to wait until we were both in my office and I had the courage to get you flowers or buy your lunch on break but you usually bring it...er, anyway, (y/n), you're the most beautiful girl in the world. Prettier than any model or idol they have on those cameras. Know why? Your beauty is more than skin-deep. It wasn't made, it just is. No need to try and make yourself up for it. You endure so many harsh words and still act kind. You're smart, writing programs hardly anyone else in the agency knows a line of. The fact that you have a gorgeous smile, too, just makes you an all-kill."

Jun...thought that highly of you? Tears welled up briefly in your eyes at the balm of his words over the photographer's, disappearing smoothly and warmly back with a blink as your eyes fixed on his beautiful brown gaze. One thing about your model associate, you knew, was that he never lied. Never said anything he didn't mean. Perhaps his resignation shouldn't have surprised you, but as you disappeared through the swinging exit door, it hardly occurred to you in favor of his last sentence repeating in your mind.

"I don't know what to say," you replied, sure your smile looked as dreamy as you felt, but nothing short of a meteor would have stopped that.

Jun took your hand in his, running a thumb across the back of it so softly you thought you might melt. "Say you like me, too. Well, only if you do, you know..."

"I know," you nodded, "because I do. Everyone always talks about you like some mysterious figure, like you can't be human just because you're so handsome, but they don't see your true beauty, either. Jun, you're truly one of the sweetest people I've ever met, and it's because of you I feel so comfortable and respected in my job. You make my day with how excited you get over muffins and let me talk to Jun Junior. Every day has something to be happy about, but you always know how to get down to business when you need to. I admire that. I wish everyone could see that, not just how hot you are."

His eyes bugged. "You think I'm hot?"

"Well," you flushed, frozen on the sidewalk at his side, "stealing their words. But I guess my secret's out? Or maybe the real secret is how we're both all-kills."

Jun giggled with you at that, looking a bit flushed himself as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "It's like I said, (y/n). We're the best. Please let me buy you lunch one of these days. I'll take your picture and prove just how beautiful you are, inside and out."

#septembercandyland #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #jun #jun x female reader #seventeen x female reader #female reader #model au #coworkers to lovers

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spaceorphan18 · 8 months

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I was wondering how you felt about the centralization of fandom. I feel like now, I'm so used to hop on AO3 that as soon as I'm looking for something I might not find there, like meta, theories or simply fics for an older (related to AO3) fandom like Glee, I don't have a clue anymore where to look for them. I never used LiveJournal so I don't have the habit of checking it out. FFNET feels obsolete after spending so much time on AO3, and as for Tumblr... the search function is a mess (and I dislike the fact that so many people post fanfics directly in text posts, of course they do what they want but it's frustrating to search for like analysis or simple thoughts and only find docs).

Fanlore is often lacking (although I worked myself on filling some stuff a few times).

I was used to HP being my main fandom: it had its own very charming fan websites with tons of content that often still exist, but are different somehow.

So I guess my question is actually several questions:

- what do you think of fandom being generally more centralized nowadays

- where do you go if you seek stuff like writeups (AO3 allows them but doesn't feature so much of them, but I know the Glee fandom was THRIVING and full of stuff,I guess the waves of mass post deletions are part of the issue)?

- finally, how are you? 🤗 I'm always happy to see your posts on my dash even if my Glee hyperfixation has come and gone

Sorry, it may be a confusing post 😂 Too much stuff going on

Hmm - I guess I wonder what you mean by more centralized? Like that we find everything in one place? Do we find everything in one placed? I guess I'm a little confused (but I often am)

What do you mean by write ups? Do you mean things like meta and analysis? I just want to make sure I'm understanding correctly.

If I'm being honest, my relationship with media has changed and I'm not necessarily seeking out fandoms to engage with. (This is not a denouncement of fandom at all! Just that I'm busier and how I interact with things just is different now) I haven't hyperfixed on anything since Glee - and I'm okay with that.

I don't really know where people can go /now/ to dig into fandoms. I think Discord is one of the places - but you almost have to be engaged already and invited into one. I don't know where people are putting their thoughts and feelings these days.

For me - I listen to a lot of podcasts now (as well as YouTube) where I can hear people's takes on such things, but I can't necessarily engage with it (I mean, I suppose commenting is a thing but it's not my thing) and that seems to fulfill a lot of my desire to hear someone else's thoughts.

And, I mean, I've made a group of good friends on Tumblr that if I want a more personalized discussion on something I'll hit one of them up and spark a convo. (Of course I have people not on the internet with whom I do that, too.)

But I can see where it can be hard for someone who is just starting out on their fandom journey to find a place where they can really dig in with others. Tumblr would be nicer if it was more organized and if tagging did actually work.

And, you know, I kinda treat Tumblr like a journal - and just create my own content. I'm not necessarily writing for all of you, but to sort things out in my own mind. Having people read and enjoy my thoughts is just an added bonus. ;)

I'm not sure if I've answered or addressed all of your thoughts - but hopefully, some of that makes sense?

In the mean time, I am doing well. I'm in a better place personally, which is nice, because then I can get back to all the fun projects I enjoyed before the year of my mental health crisis. Hope you are well yourself! <3

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hello-nichya-here · 1 year

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The other reason why I'm enamored with your blog is because you never mess around with your tags. You keep them neatly organized which makes it easy for me to search for a certain tag and you only put the coolest stuff in the actual response. Also, why're they so brilliantly worded? "Fire Nation fuckery?" "Antis learn what words mean challege?" "Actual child soldier azula"? Nichya, thank you sm for this wholesomeness<3 Nichya: The queen of Zucest and linguistics

Well, the last two tags were made by other people and I just use them because they're great. As for "Fire Nation Fuckery" I simply thought of what the hell could describe the mess that is not just that nation, but their royals in particular, and I instantly knew I had to go with that one.

And yeah, I try to keep my posts easy to find through the correct tags. Not just for the sake of my followers, but for my own too since every now and then I get asked things that I've answered before, and having an easy way to find old answers helps quite a lot.

...Also now I'm imagining Azula with a Tumblr and losing her shit because the hellsite is broken XD

#asks #sweet

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absurdthirst · 2 years

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The other issue with the reblog ratio is that some writers aren't reblogging fellow writers. If we're not supporting each other at the source it's even worse. There's several popular writers who only seem to reblog from their clique of writer friends instead of browsing the tags and finding new fics to read. I don't know if those popular writers realize that by them only reblogging their friends (some who are also already popular) it comes across as them thinking they're all better writers than us smaller ones and we're not worthy of having our stuff read and reblogged. It's a sucky feeling tbh. And I'm not saying you're one of them! I'm venting to you because if you choose to post this it will reach a wider audience.

So I have sat on this for a minute to think about how I want to answer.

While I am sure that there are those who feel uneasy with going outside their core group, there is also the very real fact that everyone here is responsible for their own blog. If that is where their comfort lies - it’s where they are.

As my ‘popularity’ has increased, I spend more time answering asks - time that I would spend at the beginning going through the tags. I would have a routine of going through every character that I enjoyed and browsing for new stories. Now, (and this isn’t a bad thing at all) I use that time to go through the dms and inbox messages I received overnight.

Even I have had to cut back on the time that I spend on Tumblr because of work or life. I started the fandom in a time where everyone was home and online - searching for something to help them keep their sanity. Now, I have to focus on my work and I’m sure that others are the same, so there isn’t as much time as there was before to browse and search for things.

I don’t like the implication that a popular writer doesn’t deserve to be reblogged simply because of their exposure. (The ‘some who are also already popular’ comment is uncalled for) Just like the implication that if they don’t read/reblog that they believe that smaller blogs are unworthy.

The tags are a mess. Half the time stories don’t show up properly and even then - they are also clogged up with so much bullshit that half the time I’m terrified to go into them. Then there is the fact that everyone tags differently. Some only put them in the character tags, some put them in the Pedro tags. There is no uniform system to really organize things in an easy to find format.

Also....I’m probably going to upset you with this, and it’s not my intention, but are you advertising yourself? Are you dropping asks into ‘popular’ blog inboxes or DMs and asking if they would like to read your works? I personally love when blogs do this because I don’t have a lot of time to find fics - it’s also another very valid reason for it being people they know that they are reblogging. They are all screaming at each other in DMs about their newest work.

Yes, I love when writers support other writers, but there is also the very real fact that not everything is also to someone’s taste. Are you implying that just because they are a bigger blog - that someone should reblog a work that they don’t care for/am interested in simply because they are a bigger platform?

I can tell you that there are so many things that need to happen, but honestly - the greatest change will come from reblogs from just the average reader.

#enjoy my convoluted thoughts #thoughts on writing/reblogging

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okmcintyre · 3 years

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I was tagged by @togetherkru , thanks so much for thinking of me! I loved reading your answers & these are always a lot of fun to fill out! 😊☀️

1. why did you choose your url?

I actually just updated my URL after nine long years, mostly because I was uber jealous of y’all with t100 specific usernames. 😅 The majority of my content is catered to that fandom, so it made sense to freshen it up. After ruling out my first choice (@madigriffin, I mean how cool would that be!) I decided that since I relate most to Harper’s energy I’d go with her last name.... and added a variation of my own first name that I thought looked cute.

2. any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

Yes! Goodness I have private sideblogs for writing drafts/inspiration, and to organize gif-making tutorials that I like to keep on hand... then there’s my Bellarke Fanfiction sideblog (@twosuns-ofbellarke)... and I help out with a couple The 100 appreciation/edits pages. I have my old URL too, just in case I ever want to start using it again.

... And I do actually have @augustkomtrikru active too, which I’d intended to use as my main URL once the prequel started up that is, before Season 7B broke my damn heart and I vowed off anything Rothenberg related unless he goes back and fixes that mess that ended our beloved show. 🤷‍♀️

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

I joined on January 4, 2012.

4. do you have a queue tag?

No, but I do tag original posts!

#t100kt, #friendskt, #luciferkt, #tumblrkt, #liveblogkt, #ask away!

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I came to tumblr because I was struggling to find my groove on LiveJournal and Blogger (wow just aged myself there, didn’t I?👵). I liked that I could post different kinds of content here... and I was obsessed with Fringe, which was still on air. This quickly became the place I came for spoilers and spaz at all the beautiful gifs from the show.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because our fearless leaders marching away from the rover together, looking like badass supermodels, is a big mood! 💥

7. why did you choose your header?

It matched the icon & I found it in my old cell phone edits ready to go

8. what post of yours has the most notes?

This Clarke & Bellamy post from Season 6, with 1700+ notes.

9. how many mutuals do you have?

Is there a way to see that? I have a bunch and they are all lovely people! ☺️

10. how many followers do you have?

Last I checked I was around 1.7k, I’m super grateful for everyone who sticks around for my hodgepodge of posting!

11. how many people do you follow?

4935, we have a lot of great fandom here and I lack chill...

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

1. (noun) any content on the internet whose humor derives from its surreal nature and/or its lack of clear context... a shitpost is funny simply because it isn't a predictable repetition of an existing form. Shitposts can become memes, but memes cannot become shitposts.

So now that Urban Dictionary explained what that means (I told you, I’m not a spring chicken anymore! 😂) I don’t believe so? Unless you include my old liveblogs, they were absolutely without context.

13. how often do you use tumblr?

I’m always popping in throughout my day. I like to keep up to my notifs & new posts in the tags, and then when I have more time on my hands I’ll look into my mutuals and feed a little more properly.

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog? who won?

I can remember a couple years ago butting heads with a couple folks when I first got into fandom: the posting etiquette here was quite different from the message boards I was used to interacting on... and I had a mishap or two as a result. I genuinely believe that no one wins when that happens though, so I really make an effort to keep this a positive space. Learn from the mistakes. 💛

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to compare this’ posts?

Thanks gosh @togetherkru that you didn’t know these either! Like, what is that? Google doesn’t even seem to know.

16. do you like tag games?

I LOVE THEM!

17. do you like ask games?

Also love them! The posts are always wildly unpopular but they are a lot of fun

18. which one of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Every one! There’s so much talent here and so many folks have established their blogs as a cornerstone of their respective fandoms. And again, I have no idea where to find a list of all my mutuals to compare... but I always feel like I’m the new kid on the block, I’m pretty sure most of my mutuals have been here years longer than I have.

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

I have a crush on my mutuals’ beautiful gif-making and writing and artsy abilities, if that counts? 😃

20. tags (if you guys want to)

I’m going to tag some folks from my notifications, feel free though to participate anyone reading this! Or if it isn’t your cuppa tea, don’t feel obligated those I tagged... have a great day everybody! 🙂☕

@bt06, @padfootx, @isweartobreathe, @bravestartingwithyou, @kizo2703, @pendragaryen, @whatabeautifullife13, @immortalpramheda, @1jemmagirl22, @frecklesandfanfics, @little-oxford-st, @infp-with-all-the-feelings, @kris-lulu, @womanwithaplan, @bellamyschin, @peaceloveandbabyducks, @geekyogicheese, @al3xia17 & anybody else who wants to play!.

#tag game!#thnx for tagging op! ��️☺️☺️🧡#the 100 #almost all my content is t100 lol #fringe #kateemcintyre #tumblrkt #about me #Play along folks!#this was fun #anti-7b #lol

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wesley Weston Characters: Danny Fenton, Wesley Weston, Jazz Fenton, Maddie Fenton Additional Tags: Walker is mentioned repeatedly, Phantom Family AU, Revelations, being a lil shit is genetic apparently, Danny swears in stars and constellations and space stuff, Wes swears with cuss words Summary: Prompt from Tumblr: I wish you would write a fic about Danny being a little shit to Vlad by revealing him to Wes. Wes comes over and nearly gets Danny’s half life ended, which leads to further family revelations that leave Danny’s head spinning.

Danny Fenton was having a weird and not particularly pleasant week. His Dad had finally encountered the Box Ghost, who took one look at him and glitched out like a Bethesda character before apparently regaining his memories. Apparently, the Box Ghost was Jason Fenton, older brother of Jack Fenton. The Box Ghost was Danny’s Uncle. That was weird as fuck to discover, especially when he implied that Box Lunch would be a person he’d have to deal with soonish. He was going to have a cousin. His already living cousin, Wes, had decided later that week to ruin Danny’s life by asking him right in front of Jazz and Mom if he still had that giant green dog thing he’d crashed a game with. Danny dragged him up to the third floor of Fentonworks, shoved him into his room, and learned very quickly that Wes had figured out that he was Phantom the moment he focused on him. “Orion, man, you can’t just imply I’m a ghost in front of Mom or Dad!” “Why not?” Wes stared at him like he’d grown a second head - he hadn’t, he knew the sensation - and Danny took a moment to redirect the energy surging to his eyes over his skin and outward. It blanketed the room in a wave and left what Tucker had described as the feeling of touching an old tv and feeling static on your fingers all over the place. Wes rubbed his arm and raised a brow at him. “Wes, tell me what Jack Fenton is going to think if you tell him ‘hey that ghost kid you shoot at all the time is your kid’? Actually, no, how the fuck did you even figure it out?” “You look like you put on your suit and then someone turned on the color inversion filter on their camera. Blue skin, white hair, black and white suit.” Wes paused and poked Danny’s cheek, looking him in the eye. “Your eyes should be orange instead of green though if that were the whole case. How’d this happen? Last time I talked to you, you n Tucker were talking about building a motorcycle that could fly.” “The hoverbike has sorta been put on hold, I’ll admit,” Danny grumbled, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. He pulled his hands away from his face and Wes was still there, tall and stupid and overly observant. “If I tell you what happened, do you promise not to out me to my parents?” “I-should I treat this like you’re in the closet?” Wes snorted at the idea. “Closeted dead guy. Alright, I can get that. But uh, if you’re dead, why are you still…” he wiggled his hand and then gestured at Danny’s room. “In a house with ghost hunters?” “Well, to start with, I’m not actually dead. Not entirely, anyway.” Danny sat down on his bed and Wes followed, and after taking a moment to triple check that Vlad’s bugs weren’t in his room with another wave of energy, Danny told Wes the story of the Accident. It was a short story, but he was slow about it. He’d never really discussed it with anyone, Sam and Tucker just sort of knew better than to bring it up and Jazz probably thought he’d tell her himself in his own time. By the time he finished, Wes looked almost as uncomfortable with the situation as Danny felt. “You know, not to sound like a cheesy 90’s cartoon character but this is why you shouldn’t give in to peer pressure.” Danny snorted and laughed at that, and Wes grinned even when Danny elbowed him. “Ok, so I’m putting together that you did a bunch of dumb shit and found yourself decided to be a superhero. What the fuck was up with the dog, or the mayor getting kidnapped? Your eyes were fuckin red when you stole a bunch of shit that one time too.” “Ok in order of what all happened: Axiom labs euthanized their guard dogs and one of them came looking for his squeaky toy but forgot where it was and no matter how many times I shoved Cujo back into the portal-” “ Cujo ?” Wes snorted and ruffled Danny’s hair. “Have you been reading the stuff Sam gives you or did your emo phase just never really end? You have the emo bangs.” “I do not!” Danny huffed, running a hand through his curly hair that, well, Wes couldn’t really ruin a mess, could he? “You’re the one with actual bangs, sasquatch hunter.” “Acknowledging that Big Foot is real doesn’t mean I’m gonna go and shoot it.” Wes crossed his arms and rested them on Danny’s head. “By the way, any idea when that growth spurt is due?” “Bold words for someone with his shins within targeting range.” “I can and will put you in a headlock Astroboy.” “I can slam dunk you through a hoop like your precious balls.” Wes said nothing to this and simply leaned more onto Danny’s head. “If I snap my neck because of you I’m suing. Anyway no matter how often I yeeted Cujo back into the Ghost Zone-” “I beg of you to call it something cooler. Call it the afterlife even, just. Please.” “He just kept digging his way out. So, I looked at his tag, saw that he came from Axiom, and we ended up in there, while getting shot at by the Red Huntress-” “Valerie, right?” “H-” “She appeared as the Huntress literally the same time the dog shit was happening, and I am getting increasingly worried that no one has noticed that she sounds the same in her Red Huntress suit as she does in the Nasty Burger mascot suit.” Wes dropped his arms to Danny’s shoulder, but still rested his chin in his hair, humming loudly. Danny slid into that spot between and snorted when Wes fell onto the bed. “I can’t tell you how pissed she was that I outed her to her dad about being the Huntress so that she wouldn’t get herself killed fighting Pariah Dark. Pretty sure if you tell her or anyone else about that, she’ll shoot you.” “I mean, it’d probably get her swarmed by so much hostility she stops shooting at you, so that’d be a plus. I’d just come back and bug you anyway.” “You’re a jerk, but I guess you’re alright.” Danny flopped back. “The mayor thing was a ghost, this douche bag prison warden named Walker in the GZ who decided that since I broke out of his prison I owe him over a thousand years and he’d make my home a prison instead.” Wes stared at him, clasped his hands flat against each other, and took a deep breath. “There are so many things wrong in that sentence. Why were you in ghost prison?” “I did ghost crimes.” Wes looked and sounded like he was in some deal of pain, and Danny couldn’t help but grin. “Dad’s anniversary present for Mom fell through the portal while I was cleaning up by shooting things into their proper place,” he covered Wes’ mouth as he opened it, “and so I flew in after it, but it was a ‘real world item’ as though the Ghost Zone is fake somehow, and that was ‘Against The Rules’ according to Walker.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I got the present out and back to Dad but I had to like, get to him at your mom’s place.” “Did you fly all the way from Minnesota to Arkansas for a present?” “Arcturus, no, not with my powers.” Danny laughed, laying back on his bed. “That’d take me like, 8 hours at top speed. No, I used the Speeder.” “Have you modified it to get into space?” “Not yet.” “Do you have permission to mod it for space travel?” “Do I have permission to be dead?” “Touche.” “Anyway, Walker is stronger than me, even when possessing a human, so when all eyes and cameras were on me he possessed the mayor and dragged me back inside to make it look like I was dragging him in. Whole invasion was his idea.” “Danny?” “And then with the robberies when my eyes were red, did you know about Circus Gothica? Cause me and some other ghosts were under the control of the ring master of the circus, Freakshow, who had this freakin crystal ball thing that could control ghosts attached to his staff. It shattered after a very long fall, thank Astrea.” “That’s really fucked up. You’ve had a fucked up life.” “Yeah.” Danny shrugged. “I guess I have.” “Know what’s more fucked up about this?” Wes had a too big grin on his face and Danny narrowed his eyes. “Do you remember my mom’s last name?” “Wal..ker… no. ” The two of them were thundering down the stairs in seconds, Danny half shouting in the livingroom. “ Mom was your dad, by chance, a law enforcement officer, or jail warden or something?” Mom looked up at him from the staff she was tinkering with on the table - note to self, sterilize the table before dinner - and blinked at him a couple of times before smiling and nodding. “Why yes, he did. Warden James Lamont Walker ran the Spittoon prison when he was alive. He was a good man, if a bit strict. To my and Alicia’s fury and grief he was murdered during a prison break.” Mom stared off in the distance, the air around her curling with a dark cold that Danny was sure only he could see. Then she softened up a bit and smiled softly at them. “Why?” “No reason, auntie, I was just curious about something and Danny thought we should ask you.” Wes played with the hem of his shirt while maintaining eye contact and Danny wondered if he had a tell for awkwardness like that. Then he realized he was rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you have any pictures of him?” “Oh, yes! They’re in the shed! My boxes are actually labelled.” “Uh oh, careful, Dad might hear of organization and come to tear it up,” Danny said with a laugh, half dragging Wes out the back door. When they were out of his mom’s considerable ear shot, Danny said softly, but with feeling, “Fuck.” “Got locked up by grandpa, huh? That’s like, the worst way to get grounded ever .” Wes snickered and watched Danny run-walk up to the shed, hand glowing so softly you could only see it by staring directly at it as he turned the knob. “There are odds, slim ones, that this is a whole different Walker. It might even be his first name.” “Who the hell names their kid Walker?” “Walter, Wayne and Wesley Weston.” “Alright then.” For a few minutes the two of them searched through the mess known as the Fenton Family Shed for a box with a label neither had thought to ask for. Eventually, they found one labeled Scrapbooks and carefully eased it out of the mess of it all. “Y’knonw, Danny,” Wes said as they opened the box and started flipping through scrapbooks with just enough care not to damage them. “I’m feelin kinda good about investigating a ghost with you. Is this how it is with you n your boyfriend and best friend?” Danny almost tore a page out, turning to stare at Wes. He must’ve felt the temperature drop for a second because he looked up with a raised brow. “What?” “Boyfriend?” “Tucker. Tucker Foley.” Danny’s jaw dropped and Wes’ confusion morphed into a shit eating grin. “You know, Tucker spends most of his time with you Foley? The one you build shit with all the time? The nerd that you get sick in sync with? I’ve seen you lose a pencil and then he puts one behind your ear while you look for the one you lost. You made him a custom gaming computer disguised as a console.” Danny’s face burned red as a tomato at this point and he shoved Wes. “Shut up I’m not dating Tucker!” “I have to ask Jazz about this now, you’re killing me.” Wes snorted and flipped a page. He blinked down at the scrapbook and pointed at a picture. “James Walker. This look anything like him?” Danny took the book and looked at the picture. Looked at the several pictures of the man with his daughters, wearing a black pinstriped suit in a handful of them. And he let out a long, loud groan. “I hate this week, I hate it so much.” Wes started cackling and Danny scowled. “That reminds me.” He kicked Wes in the shins and grinned. “Much better. Also, Wes, I gotta tell you. I’m not one of a kind, as far as my living status goes.” “Oh what, there’s another Schrodinger’s little shit flying around out there?” Wes rubbed his ankle and hissed. “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but that fruitloop we call a mayor may have been elected because he possessed literally everyone that was voting.” Wes went silent and stared at him, and Danny nodded. “Think you can pester him instead of me? He wants to kill Dad and thinks that he can get Mom if he does that.” “Danny. My Dad works for Masters.” “This puts you in the perfect position to mess with him, I say. Just act like you’re there to see your dad.” “You oblivious asshole. I fuckin love you, cous.” “Same here, skyscraper.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Wes Weston #Jazz Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Walker #james walker #Box Ghost #fanfiction #fanphiction #phanfiction #phanphiction #phanfic #fanfic #fanphic #phanphic #prompt fill #Rexy Writes #Phantom Family AU

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beyondtheduststorms · 3 years

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infatuation

hi, this will be literally my first drabble(?) in years and i owe this new spark to thancred and all the various wolcred writers on ao3 :) it's so difficult finding a fic of wolcred that doesn't involve spoilers (i am new to the game, on ARR trial still) so i guess this is a bit self-indulgent too. (ao3 writers please have mercy on early simps)

i'm writing on the tumblr editor, so sorry for the formatting.

tags: Thancred/WOL, Thancred/reader, miqo'te WOL, gender ambitious WOL, impostor syndrome, self doubt, one-sided(?), angst(?), ARR MSQ ~33 because that's where i'm at

1226 words

Oh, twelves. Oh dear.

You knew you're doomed when you first heard his voice emerging from behind you, his tone warm and assuring. Gods, he was a good looking one. The immediate danger that followed broke through your little bubble of puppy love, but nevertheless as you fought with him side by side, you knew you wish to meet him again. Was it love at first sight, you wonder, as you knew this sort of feeling is never good to have, though you still clench your fist at the thought of meeting him again. It's never too bad to have a handsome face in your view.

Came your second meeting, your third, fourth-- Gods, it just didn't stop coming and he became a regular face to you. You learned that his name is Thancred - admittedly, it has a nice ring to it. That a simple traveler like you could become somewhat of an acquaintance and have the fortunate fate of seeing him from time to time, it must be a gift from the Twelves... or so you thought.

Fast forward to countless little errand runs later - you are now a Scion, standing equal to him in a peculiar organization, handling equally tedious tasks as he did -- as he does. You just started your adventures not too long ago, and yet here you are in the Waking Sands, dubbed his "family" by Minfillia, talking to him as if you're truly comrades. Gods, it felt so abrupt to you, knowing one of the main reasons that you are there was because of the Echo as Minfillia addressed it. It felt almost as if you're not supposed to be there.

It wasn't because of your kindness, your heart, your talent, your hardworking merits, your stance -- simply because of a "gift" you were given unbeknownst to yourself, a "gift" you couldn't even bear to control.

All while the looming anxiety in you grows, as does the "puppy love" that you felt from the very start for Thancred. Each time you meet through missions, each time you interact with him, you could feel it eat you up more ever so slightly; it was naught but simple endearing details of him that caught you more and more entwined in this tangle mess of your own feelings. The shape of his nose, his jawlines, the ashy strands that overshadows his face, his beautiful amber eyes always filled with something akin to hope or so you presume; the way he makes a show of himself, the way he playfully flirts with you and everyone alike, the sight of his reassuring silhouette always ready to come to your aid-

the way his eyes were glossed over with regret where he knew he left you out in danger when you fought Ifrit, the way he wants to grow stronger to protect those in need of his helping hand, the way he-

You know this won't do. You know this growing feeling inside of you is just infatuation. You know he would never look your way, even just for a brief moment. You know he flirts with everyone, and that makes you no exception - you know he is himself, he is Thancred, and you will never catch that kind of gaze from the Thancred that you know. He would never. He is your friend, your ally, your colleague, your dearest flirtatious scholar. No matter what kind of feeling you hold for him, this won't do.

This won't do because you won't ever deserve his gaze.

The sound of your name cuts you from your train of thoughts.

"Are you feeling alright?" asked Thancred as he held out a drink for you.

For a moment you flinched - you forgot you were in the Waking Sands waiting for Minfillia to come out from her meeting all while letting your intrusive thoughts ran through your little miqo'te head. Thancred's gaze meets yours as you forced yourself to look away from it.

"Oh! Um... I'm alright, Thancred." You knew it must have been rude to look away so abruptly like that, so you force yourself to look up at him albeit loosely letting your eyes rest on somewhere ambiguous on his forehead as you held out your hand to receive the drink he'd so kindly gotten for you. "I appreciate the concern. I was just... lost in thoughts, is all."

"Indeed, you must have so much on your mind right now," he sat down on a little chair near you as he spoke. "It's the Titan that we have the honor to face now. Gods be damned, we're making you face a primal - again, after your unfortunate encounter with Ifrit. How could you not worry?"

"I suppose you can put it like that." You squirm. You forgot the Titan even existed, as you were only dwelling in your selfish, unimportant feelings towards the man sitting next to you. You're slaying a Primal. How could you forget? How could you be so self-centered that you forget that you're facing a Primal? You hear the voice deep inside you rumble as you struggle to forge a smile. "But I... am willing to accept this mission. I believe this is part of my duty as a Scion, and I want to help out. I believe that I became an adventurer because of this."

You know you're lying through your teeth as you grit the words as if you want to chew them out. You didn't want to admit, but you are fully accepting these dangerous missions because part of you just want the Primal to slay you instead. You don't deserve a place here among the Scions; someone else more talented and less clouded with sophisticated feelings towards their colleague could take over your place at no time. After all, you are but a simple adventurer. But because you are one, it won't hurt to try your hands at slaying Titan - the worst you'll face is death anyways.

You can feel Thancred's warm hand as he pats your back in an attempt to soothe your visibly clenched hands. Your ears plopped as your tail softly wags behind you, brushing the walls of the Waking Sands. You're sure he only comforts you because he thinks that you are stressed of the thoughts of Titans, but the feeling of his soft touches lingering on your back makes you feel all the more flustered.

He is your friend. Don't ruin this.

The silence was both so comfortable and painful for you to bear. But at least you know that you're taking these feelings to your grave were you to fail. These carefully guarded heartbeats will not reveal themselves to Thancred any time soon, and knowing that eases you a little bit.

The doors to the Solar creaked open, and you turn your head towards it, knowing Minfillia is inside awaiting your presence. As does she for Yda, Papalymo, Y'shtola, Urianger, and Thancred.

All these knowledgeable people, and you get to stand equal as them as a Scion... even though you are so much less than they are. You wonder how long it will be until they find out - mayhap it will be the death of you - as you step into the chamber with your comrades.

This is naught but infatuation. I am but an impostor. Time will tell them that I am not... the heroic figure they think I am.

#thancred x wol #ffxiv thancred #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #miqo'te #WOL #fic #impostor syndrome #one sided feelings #infatuation

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ommsims · 3 years

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story process challenge

i was tagged by @xldkx to do this challenge, created by @herpixels , like a month? a month and a half? ago and it’s been sitting half finished in my drafts for nearly as long. *sigh* (regardless, i love stuff like this so even if it takes me forever to get to it, i appreciate the tags! 💕).

i decided to answer all the qs because it took me damn long enough to get to this, so i might as well put some extra elbow grease into it (plus it was fun!). btw it’s all going under a cut b/c it is long. i apologize in advance.

1. My Writing Process - used to be a hot damn mess. literally word docs strewn throughout my pc. However, I recently switched to using Onenote (it’s what i use to organize my d&d campaign notes) and hoo-boy is it so much nicer. this is how it’s set up and it’s honestly night and day. i can have a page with outlines, a page to organize & order screenshots, and a separate page for drafting text, and i can easily toggle though them without having to switch windows? a big thumbs up from me.

When it comes to actual writing- I used to write my drafts in novel format, which i enjoyed but it made “converting” them into tumblr posts time consuming and frustrating. I ended up scrapping most of the text in the process, retaining pretty much only the dialogue.

Anyway, nowadays I write in more of a screenplay format: dialogue only + key scene information with the occasional note to self.

I do keep a master “arcs” page with key events and each individual character’s arc from beginning to end and secondary “outline” pages with slightly more detailed outline for each leg of the project. No screencaps b/c spoilers galore!

My typical work flow process for a scene goes: (1) brainstorm scene ideas, (2) take screenshots, (3) organize screenshots into a rough storyboard, (4) add 1st draft of text, (5) edit photos, (6) edit text, (7) upload to "drafts” here on tumblr, (8) let sit for a bit (9) take a final look at things/proofread and edit as needed. It may sound counterintuitive, but i find it much easier to write dialogue for a set of images rather than attempt to take images based on prewritten text. I feel more comfortable editing and tweaking tone and content in the text this way. Otherwise, I get frustrated when I “can’t” shoot a scene exactly as it appeared in my head.

2. How I build my scenes - A lot of what i do is rooted in gameplay, therefore my sets are usually (a) play-tested and (b) not super pretty. I’ve certainly improved at decorating & building over the years but more often than not I download lots off tumblr and the gallery because I don’t have the patience, aptitude, or time to build all of my own sets. That being said, I frequently gut builds only to build a number of completely unrelated mini sets inside to reduce the number of times i have to replace lots. I also keep a list of “important locations” and where certain characters live / will move to, to help keep this all straight as there aren’t nearly enough lots per neighborhood or even per world in this damn game...

my least favorite part of scene building is actually decorating. lol. Don’t get me wrong, I love clutter. I honestly do. but fuck me if i expect myself to spend hours meticulously decorating a set, spend another 3 hours toggling back and forth b/w BB & live modes adjusting things to get rid of the damn routing errors. (yeah, yeah, i know i could ignore them, they’re not important, especially in those scenarios where i’m using a set for screenshots and nothing else, but idk. it really grinds my gears.) and then have to replace the lot like a week later because there aren’t enough lots in the game. *sigh*

3. CC/Pose Making - i do not consider myself to be a cc creator nor a pose maker but i do dabble occasionally. And to be completely honest i’d much rather spend my time doing other stuff, so it’s not high on my list of priorities atm. plus there are so many talented cc creators in this community; i can usually get by with what’s already out there.

4. Getting in the zone - Honestly, I do a lot of brainstorming for plot & dialogue in the shower. I don’t have any particular playlists to get me “in the writing mood” but I do enjoy listening to music as I work. Either instrumental stuff or simply artists/songs I like. If something just so happens to “fit” a scene I’m working on, one i’ve got planned, or even just gives me vibes for a certain character or group, I add a quick note to the top of said scene’s draft. Most of the time I stick it in the recesses of my brain and add a quick link when I finally get to the point of posting the draft to tumblr. For whatever reason, when I have one of those “oh this song is perfect for X” moments it’s essentially ingrained in my mind for the rest of eternity.

5. The screenshot folder - this will most likely give some of you out there major anxiety. but i swear it’s an organized chaos. :)

yep. 32.9gb of screenshots & related things...

So with the raws from a single random scene selected, you can see i take roughly 10 screenshots per image posted. not terrible i guess but i’m working on it. Typically I take screenshots and once I’m done editing a scene I’ll move them from the general folder to a more specific project folder.

6. Captions - I’ll answer this in three parts:

for my townie story. not really. I prefer using the text box. I tend to write (& re-write) the dialogue for each one of these scenes several times over as I add more “scenes” into my drafts. It would be incredibly inefficient, time consuming, and would waste a lot more space on my pc to have to save .psds of each image just so i could edit dialogue when I decide: “oh hey maybe so and so needs to bring up X in this scene” and then change my mind an hour later.

for niko, noor, & co. I’m a text on image type gal here. don’t really know why, but it gives the project a different energy. ironically it makes it feel more laid-back to me. which i guess makes sense, it’s a much more light-hearted “story” than my townie project. which is, imo, very soapy haha.

for legacy stuff. all text goes below the images in the text box. reasoning: it’s gameplay, I don’t brainstorm, outline, or pre-write for this. I play the game, take screenshots, plug ‘em into my drafts and write some commentary / dialogue to go along with it.

7. Editing - i am a creature of habit and have not majorly changed my editing process in probably a year and a half (when I began using reshade and had to adjust my color correcting psd). it’s a super basic system:

drag & drop my “color correction” psd.

run actions in ps. (i made my own “all-in-one” actions to really streamline the process; i have different “actions sets” for my premades’ story and for other things that get posted to tumblr. even if no one else notices it, i like the little details that keep my projects separate and “identifiable”.

voila. all set to upload.

sometimes i crop images, add “text effects”, or do more in depth editing (i.e. editing a phone screen or adding rain etc.) but overall i try and keep it simple for myself.

8. Throwback - i posted an image of one of the first (but never posted) scenes I’d written for my townie project up above. but as for how would i redo a scene i’d already posted. well i’m currently re-doing my townie story so i guess i’ll just say you’ll see how it’s redone when i get to part 1! 😉

anyway, no tags because i’m so embarrassingly late to this party but if you hadn’t gotten around to this tag, wanted to do it but didn’t get a tag, or started it and left it to sit and now you’re thinking “oh god that was months ago should i even post this anymore?!?” consider yourself tagged by me and go ahead and post it for all to see!

#tag train #story process challenge #it's long. it's rambly. but that's me.#this one was a challenge! a challenge but fun.

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missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

Drive Her Crazy || Part II

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader

Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.

Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, smut(?)

Note: Welcome to a Tumblr exclusive! PM me if you would like to be added onto the tag list for updates.

PART I

PART II of X

Count: 2691

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sun felt good on your skin. You kind of liked it after living somewhere rainy all the time. You had driven your car to LA and David was able to hook you up with a place to stay since one of his clients was out of town for the next 6 months and didn’t mind having someone there as long as the place wasn’t trashed.

The place was nice and decently sized as you set your equipment down and went back to your car to get your bags.

You had a gig to play at some trust fund kid’s 21st birthday (usually you’d decline these types of requests, but he was paying you enough to buy a liver on the black market), so you needed to drive out to the Palm Desert in two days.

After you put all your things away, you sat on the bed, pulling out your phone. This was the tricky part. You needed to find an organic way to meet Wanda. You didn’t want to come off as a fan, nor did you want to meet her through work because it would be difficult to discern if she liked you, or if she liked your connections.

You needed to find a way to be in her social circle, without being someone she just networks with.

You were scrolling through her Instagram more in-depth this time, being careful to not like any of the photos.

You discovered that she had a fiancé, some nobody indie singer named Jarvis, but only went by his stage name, Vision (you had to roll your eyes a little at that).

You discovered regular places that she liked to frequent. Book stores, restaurants, bars, beaches, etc.

You tapped your fingers idly at your side. How were you going to bump into her? Her latest Instagram post shared that she had a new partnership with Biologique Recherche and was repping their skincare line, but there wasn’t anything you could really do with that.

You sighed and put your phone away. Closing your eyes, you opted to take a nap, being so tired from the drive.

Maybe you would just have to meet her in a work setting, it would just be harder to move away from just networking friend.

But you weren’t against hard work.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

By the time you had woken up, it was pretty late. You were a little miffed knowing that it was going to mess with your sleeping schedule, but there wasn’t much that you could do about it now.

Your stomach growled hungrily, and you got up getting ready to grab a bite to eat since there was no food in the house. You were thinking about heading to that fast food chain that served healthy food bowls. Wanda had posted a photo of it, and you had to admit it looked pretty good.

It was a relatively new chain, so they didn’t have any more than two locations. It was a pretty walkable distance from your place, so you just put on a light cardigan and left.

You were tinkering away on your phone when you walked into the shop, standing in line, not looking up. You shuffled a little as the person in front of you moved up to the counter to put in their order.

“Ah, sorry, hold on. I swear my wallet is in here.”

The voice makes you look instantly.

It’s the only voice you’ve been hearing for the past two days.

There she was. Standing in front of you, back turned as she was in yoga pants, a tank top, and a sweater. Probably just coming from a workout.

You watched as she aggressively looked through her large bag, digging for what you presumed for is a wallet. She sighed disappointedly, letting you know there was no luck in finding the wallet.

This was your organic moment, you thought. It was too good, you were too lucky to get this moment. And you weren’t going to waste it.

Just as she was about to tell the cashier to cancel the order, you stepped up.

“Hey,” you softly greeted, surprising her to look over. You grinned lightly, trying to look a little sheepish and non-threatening. “I couldn’t help but overhear you can’t find your wallet. Happens to me too. If you’re okay with it, you can put your order with mine.”

Wanda eyes you for a moment but then smiles. “Yeah, if you’re okay with that. I can pay you back.”

You chuckle, waving her off and stepping up closer to the cashier to put in your order. “It’s no problem. It’s an $8 bowl, you’re hardly breaking my bank.”

She laughs, bringing you to smile a wider. You pay for the order, and the cashier tells you to grab a seat, and they’ll bring it out to you.

Wanda turns to you. “Thanks again for that, I swear I brought my wallet with me. Since you don’t want me to pay you back, did you want to eat together? I mean, if you’re not busy and all.”

Your inner voice can’t help but celebrate at how well it’s going, but you put on a happy grin. “Sure.”

You grab a corner table that’s next to the window. Wanda’s hair is in a messy bun before she pulls it out, curls falling over as she pushes her bangs over to one side.

She’s too gorgeous, you think.

“I’m Wanda,” she introduces herself.

You introduce yourself back and set your phone facing down on the table.

“Late night workout?” You ask, eyeing her attire again. She nodded, sipping on her water.

“Yeah, it’s been a crazy hectic day, and I’m trying to be really good about not skipping.” She says with a mischievous smirk making you laugh lightly.

“What about you?” She asks about your day.

You shake her head, “Nah, I just got in town. I did kind of put some of my things away, but napping kind of put a wrench in getting anything else done and potentially getting any sleep tonight.”

Wanda giggles and you feel like a lovesick puppy trying to get her to laugh again.

The conversation stays polite. You both trade funny stories and anecdotes to get to know each other a little better.

Wanda is trying to not choke on her food as you finish your story.

“No way,” she snorts a little, and you sigh in almost a shameful way.

“Nope, it really happened. I had to scale down her freaking balcony, couldn’t even get my shoes. Guess I was lucky to have my underwear at least.”

Wanda just bursts into a fit of laughter, eyes watering up as she wiped them.

“I can’t believe that happened to you,” she says, still laughing.

You shrug your shoulders, throwing your napkin into your finished bowl. “Me neither. What are the chances of an ex-girlfriend becoming roommates with someone you’re banging?”

Wanda’s laugh has died down, but she grins at you. The night is coming to an end, you’re not really sure how to go from here. You don’t think this warrants asking for her number, and you think she would reject it anyways since she has a fiancé.

You both get up, chatting a little more as you exit. You think you’re about to separate ways, but then you’re both walking in the same direction. You both chuckle, although a little awkwardly.

“Do you live this way?” She asks. You nod.

“Yeah,” you say and then tell her what community you’re living in. Her eyes brighten up happily.

“No way! We live in the same community! Wouldn’t it be crazy if we were neighbors?”

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. This was insane. This was too coincidental and lucky. You’re starting to get worried you’re going to use up all the luck you have in this lifetime.

You chuckle, almost nervously as you both walk together home. She’s sharing with you about a bookstore she recently went to and loved as it was tiny and unorganized, but every book you pulled out was interesting.

Eventually, you come to her stop. She lived in a nice house as you predicted from getting paid to rep brands.

“Well, this is my stop. You any further from here?” She says, turning to you. You shake your head. You can’t believe you actually only live a couple blocks from her.

You point down the block and then up the road to where you're staying. “I’m just a couple blocks down and then up that road.”

Wanda’s eyes widened slightly and then her eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, wow, those are the really nice houses. I don’t remember anyone from there put any listings up for sale.”

“Yeah, I’m actually just here for maybe a couple months. I have a friend who knows the owner of a house up there and is letting me stay while they’re in Europe for like, 6 months.”

Wanda nods, understanding more of the situation. With nothing really left to be said, you’re saying goodbye to her, thinking about how you’re going to produce another organic meeting.

At least it would be easier now since you knew where she lived. You could pretend to be on a run and pass by. She said she goes to that new book store on Thursdays, so you could do that.

Just as you’re turning to leave, she calls your name again. You turn back around, wondering if you maybe dropped something. She’s holding her bag strap a little tightly and shifts from one foot to another.

“Did you, um, did you, maybe, want to come inside for a drink?”

You try to make sure you don’t make a surprised face because you think that might put her off and make her backtrack. So, you simply gave her a lopsided smile and nodded. She beamed at you and led you into her house. It’s pretty dark, and you’re wondering where her fiancé is since it’s late.

“Thanks for this, my finacé is out of town visiting a friend, and I hate staying in the house alone.”

Ah, that explains that. You tell her it’s not a problem. She gets you to sit down on her couch as she turns on a lamp and lights a few candles. Soon the room starts to smell like salted caramel, and you love it.

Wanda comes back with some wine and hands you a glass as she takes a seat.

“Is this okay? My fiancé hates it when I put on candles, the smell is overwhelming to him.”

You shook your head, taking a sip of the wine. “No, I love the smell. It reminds me of fall.”

“Same!” Wanda grinned.

“So,” Wanda started, swirling around her wine a little. “You haven’t actually moved here then?”

You shook your head again, leaning back a little more to get comfortable. Wanda is sitting facing towards you, her side leaning against the back of her couch as she has her legs tucked in.

“No, I’m actually just here for work. Though, I suppose if I enjoy it enough, I may decide to move here permanently.”

“What do you do for work?” Wanda asked, eyes piping with curiosity.

“I’m in the music industry,” you say cryptically with a smile. Wanda seemed to take it, though, smiling as her eyes spark.

“Oh! My fiancé, Jarvis, but goes by his stage name, Vision, is also in the music industry. He’s a singer.”

You try to keep your lip from twitching as you ask, “Anything I would’ve heard?”

She pursed her lips, pulling out her phone and loaded SoundCloud on it.

“Probably not. Vision just likes putting his music out there, he doesn’t really care about making it big.”

Doesn’t care about making it big, or unable to make it big, you wonder.

You hear soft guitar music playing, and you think it’s not bad. Until he sang.

His singing voice itself is pretty good. It’s just his lyrics.

God, you don’t think you’ve written such bad lyrics since you were 13. The song continues to play and you will your face to not cringe. When it finished, you give a smile to Wanda because she’s beaming like she’s so proud.

Your gut clenched because that was so bad and if she’s beaming like that, is she seriously in love with Vision?

“That’s...insane...” you say.

“I keep telling him to give his demos to agents out there, but he’s not into that. He keeps saying he just likes posting his music and if some hotshot finds him, then it’s meant to be.” Wanda said with a roll of her eyes.

You chuckled for lack of what to say and then changed the topic. “What do you do for work?”

You already knew, but it would be interesting to see what she would say about it.

“I suppose Vision would say I’m a photographer,” she mused, and you fight the urge to raise your brow. She wasn’t wrong, though, in a way.

“It’s nothing really, I post vlogs and brands pay me to represent their stuff.”

You weren’t really surprised by the humble approach, but you decided to give her what she wanted to hear.

Your eyes widened in surprise, “No way! That’s seriously amazing. So, you’re kind of famous?”

Wanda laughed bashfully, slapping you on your arm a little as she blushed.

“Oh god, no, not like famous, but I’ve got some loyal followers. It’s nothing really, pays good money.”

You take this moment to ask her what her Instagram and Youtube it so you can freely look at it and not worry about accidentally liking anything. You trade social media handles and start chatting again before her phone buzzes multiple times in a row. She gives you an apologetic smile as she checked her phone.

“Oh, man, are you fucking serious?” She groaned, putting her phone back down and throws her head back onto the couch, hand over her eyes.

“Everything okay?” You asked curiously.

Wanda sighed and lifts her head back up, expression dampened by whatever she read. “Yeah, sorry. I have a photoshoot in two days. My friend was supposed to give me a ride since my car is in the shop right now, but she just bailed.”

You watched as she pulled up her phone and scrolled through it, mumbling to see which person might be able to drive her.

It doesn’t sound promising.

“Where’s your photoshoot?” You ask her. She puts down her phone, looking a little defeated as she looks up at you.

“Palm Desert. Ugh, I think I’m going to have to cab it there.” She winced like she’s thinking about how much it’s going to cost to take a 2-hour taxi ride and you winced too.

You’re going to offer her a ride. It’s a little weird you think since she’s only known you for about 2 hours, but if since the universe keeps giving you these opportunities, you might as well take it.

“I can give you a ride there,” you said, watching her reaction. Her eyes widened, mouth opened a little.

“What, really? Are you sure?” She asked you, and you’re nearly concerned that Wanda doesn’t seem even slightly worried she’s going to be locked in a car with a person she’s only just met.

You nodded. “Yeah. I actually have to head to Palm Desert for work, so if you don’t mind tagging along, I can give you a lift. What time is your shoot at?”

Wanda looked so grateful as she replied, “It’s at noon.”

You nod, thinking if you have anything to do in the morning, but you don’t.

“Alright, I’ll come get you at 9AM? We can get some breakfast on the way and head out?” You asked, and she nodded her head up and down rapidly, a broad smile on her face.

“Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver! I’m so glad I met you today.” Wanda says, sinking to the couch a little more, drinking her wine leisurely now that her problem was solved.

You tilted your head to the side and smiled.

“Yeah, what a coincidence.”

PART III

#Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda x reader #Wanda Maximoff x OFC #yandere Wanda #Wanda Maximoff Imagine #Avengers Imagine #Marvel Imagine #MCU #Avengers #Avengers AU #Avengers Reader Insert #Yandere Wanda Maximoff #Yandere Marvel #Modern Avengers AU #Scarlet Witch Imagine #Scarlet Witch x Reader #mm: my fics #series.drivehercrazy #g.smut

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fcarher · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon? — with yuna being a fandomless original character; it is rather hard to strictly follow canon; first of all, one has to define what canon means & that would be, in yuna’s case, the story that i have previously written before writing on Tumblr with her as my muse. i do try to stick to it, however, i always leave enough room for her to develop, otherwise, it would be just plain boring, wouldn’t it ? with that said; she already has developed a few characteristics that might be deemed out of character within the canon material

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — she is a character with several layers; meaning, you will always get to know a different side of her, the more you interact. yuna is an outcast, though, you might not notice it at first. she’s really strong & her species is still rather unknown; many abilities might have not been uncovered yet. her mission is to destroy humanity, though, will she do it ? she works as a hitman within a secret organization that is more than meets the eye. she is ACTUALLY not a true descendant of lilith. she is old & has seen & experiences MANY things.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — She is way too stubborn & it takes AGES to form a real relationship with her; so petty & weak-willed when it comes to her own desires; way too set on her own belief; the whole humanity-is-bad stick gets old quick; her being paranoid about every SINGLE thing; her whole concept is less about her own power but more about the control of said power & how she deals with her being pressured into the position she is

What inspired you to rp your muse? — i love mythology & the lore within Christianity (mainly the characters, stories; def more a fan of the “evil” stuff ) i love horror; i love paranormal stuff & if you combine everything, you have yunaeisha & her sisters. the lore ( which is massive & yuna’s story plays within present-day while most of it plays in the past) is something i hold dear to my heart; i worked on it for many years, since approx. 2014-2015. yuna embodies a lot of the pain of my previous characters; not knowing her place in the universe while KNOWING that you have to function within this society that deems you’re not a part of them, either. she’s honest & a bad bitch with a very soft side; i love her a lot & she’s grown so much. my love for her inspired me & how much more i wanted to flesh her out.

What keeps your inspiration going? — I constantly find new stuff that i could implement within yuna; i dream A LOT about my characters, actually, & i always try to put some material of those dreams into her. i love russia as a land; the language, the clothes, the cities. i love mythology; i love her aesthetic & i always find something that could be of use. simply going outside & watching people interact makes me think instantly; how would yuna react ? how would she talk ? i try to keep her as real possible & thus, i constantly think about her.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — I am quite the sensitive person when it comes to HARSH criticism; when someone just comes to me to talk about how badly i portray yuna, then i’m gonna be sad about it. however, i do accept people that give me constructive ideas like; maybe it could be better if you did ... instead of .... ? i have NOTHING against it. i never received it, though, so i’m not 100 percent sure about it. though, i’d love to think that i’d be even more motivated to better her.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — I rarely get question but i’d love if some more flew in; LET THEM BE IC QUESTIONS EVEN !! i had some muses be invested in yuna, but the more the merrier so OF COURSE !!!

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — yes, please !! if you think a headcanon might clash with another or you think, it might be really out of character or just generally unfitting for yuna; TELL ME !! i sometimes forget some minor headcanons, though, they can play a MAJOR role sometimes; if you become aware of that, please tell me. also, if you just generally don’t agree with it, PLEASE also tell me; i’m a really open-minded person & i’d love to hear your point of view.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — if someone disagrees; alright, then so be it. all people think differently; you can’t please everyone. yuna is my characters, however, her concept, of being half-demon, half-goddess, the child of lilith, has been done before & thus, i know some might not agree how i portray yuna within that concept & that’s okay; though, if you outright HATE on it; why ? if you think you can do it better; make your own lore & character but don’t hate on anyone. with that said, i personally don't have anything gainst people disagreeing; that’s just how life works; we can’t agree on everything.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — i’d be taken aback at first because of course, as the creator of yuna, i love her dearly. though, i could understand why; she does MANY things that are considered problematic & has no remorse, whatsoever; she seems very self-centered & almost toxic to some & i GET that’s not everyone’s cup of tea; however, she’s not ONLY that but it takes times to get through that layer; i understand not everyone likes such muses. it’s okay, i don’t mind it but don’t HATE on her, aggressively ?? telling me how shitty she is or how much she sucks, is not really nice, & i know she often sucks, you don’t have to tell me twice.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — YES PLEASE !! i’m human, english is actually my third-language & i still make a lot of errors; probably did some in this post as well lmao. but seriously, if you see it & you feel like correcting it; PLEASE DO !! or just shoot me a quick message, saying that you have noticed that i OFTEN make a specific error. it helps a lot !! thank you.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — no, definitely not! i hyperfixate a lot, meaning that i have this uncontrollable urge to just do one thing; or speak to one person or play a certain game; it messes up my social life a lot because i sometimes go months without talking to my best friends, though, they don’t mind because they’re used to me “ignoring” them. i also dislike convos that lead to nothing, even within real life; i like topic-related conversations & not just the plain “hey” & “how are you”’s. though, let me state one thing; if we have talked before & i was very open with you; I LOVE YOU! i’m not “ignoring” you on purpose or because i stopped liking you or something; it’s just me being dumb. so, if you want to talk, plot, have an idea, want to ship, ANYTHING !! shoot me a message, please, I BEG YOU !!! i hardly reach out first & that makes me seem unapproachable; i’m aware of that & i’m so sorry, i’m working on it! but other than that; i’m a person that you can talk to about everything ! politics; anime; mythology; pop-culture; roleplaying; i love it all !! i may not know the topic at first but i love learning & i’m willing to listen at all times !! also i love listening to people gush about their characters or just plotting stuff; ITS GREAT !! so, this is an invitation for you to come plot with me 8^)

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by: @skyvar ; i loved the nasty questions ! 8^) Tagging: @dvojakyvlk, @thevvolf, @childrenxfthemoon, @hensetsu, @talonness, @shikkotsunin, @aemiliiu, @nezumi-vc-103221 & everyone who feels like stealing !!

#˗ ˋ † ᴅᴏꜱꜱɪᴇʀ ﹕ the things that were left in this life i call mine !#( i loved this a lot !! )#( also it let me foreshadow more stuff abt yuna 8') )#( aLSO IM SO SORRY I SUCK AT SOCIALISING )#( 10/10 times its me being stupid )#tw long post

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let-it-raines · 5 years

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Not Your (soul)Mate {12/16}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature

A/N: As always, thanks to @captainsjedi for all of the time and effort she put into making all of the wonderful artwork for this story! It’s the coolest thing to get to have❤️ And thank you to the organizers of @cssns!

Also, look! I add a chapter! You guys now get an epilogue! Woohoo!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Tag list: @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @emmas-storybook @searchingwardrobes @spartanguard @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @xellewoods @thejollyroger-writer @galaxyzxstark @cssns

-/-

Killian: But categorically, you cannot tell me that cold pizza is better than fresh out of the oven pizza.

Emma: Ugh. I’m not saying that. I’m saying that if you get nasty delivery pizza, it’s just as good cold as it is warm.

Emma: If you’re getting wood fired pizza, obviously you eat that shit warm.

Killian: ‘Eat that shit warm’ is not a sentence I ever wanted to read.

Emma: Don’t make it gross.

Killian: It’s too late for that.

Emma: I seriously want Ariel to get a pizza oven in her house because I have to put on a bra to go to Eric’s restaurant.

Killian: I mean, I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t.

Emma: Again, don’t make it gross.

“Are you texting your boyfriend again?”

Emma jumps in her office chair, her phone tumbling out of her hands and onto her desk, bouncing around until it lands on top of her computer’s keyboard, jamming down on several keys all at once like a toddler that just got one of those toys that make too much noise when you press a button. That’s not going to mess the database she was going through up or anything. They finally got the funding to computerize their files, so she spends all of her days doing just that. She’s really regretting putting in that request right about now. She won’t in a few weeks, but she does now.

(At least they didn’t have to make a calendar or do a bake sale. She really doesn’t need to see a picture of David wearing, like, a “Kiss the Cook” apron and nothing else just to raise a little money.)

She also regrets tossing her phone in the air and how quickly her heart is beating. David’s going to see the nerves all over her face, going to see how frazzled she is, and he’ll see right through it. Hell, he pretty much already does. At least he’s a hell of a lot more chill than Mary Margaret.

Not like that’s hard.

(What, like it’s hard? Elle Woods for the win, always.)

Last night she was eating dinner with them at the farmhouse, and for approximately three seconds she looked down at a text on her phone and apparently smiled. She’s sure it was nothing more than a slight curve of her lips, a whisper of happiness, but Mary Margaret practically threw her fork across the table (which is a great way to stab someone in the eye) and demanded to know who she was talking to.

It was Killian. It always seems to be Killian.

She’s not sure how she feels about that even if she’s admitted to herself that she kind of (definitely, really, truly) likes him. It’s a very odd feeling that makes her soul feel like it’s not connected to her body.

She told Mary Margaret that it was Ariel complaining about how much it sucks to be eight months pregnant in the summer heat. The fact that Mary Margaret didn’t call Ariel right then and there and offer up every bit of advice was a miracle. Honestly, looking back, Emma knows that she should have said that she was talking to Ruby about a date that she has. Mary Margaret rarely asks for more details on Ruby’s dates than what Ruby offers up, not that the girl leaves a lot to be desired. It’s one of her best and worst qualities all at once.

But Mary Margaret believed her and got carried away talking about the joys and sorrows of motherhood, and if it weren’t for David, she would have gotten away with her lie unnoticed.

She feels like a freaking Scooby Doo villain thinking something like that.

If only she had a creepy mask to take off too.

Or maybe not. That could be weird. No, definitely weird.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and you know it,” she says as calmly as she can, reaching forward and grabbing her phone only to look up at David and the smirk that’s plastered on his face with his hands behind his back. “What’s with the creepy look you’ve got going on there?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“So are you.” He moves his hands from behind his back to reveal a small vase full of yellow roses and whatever that white filler flower is. It’s some weird name like breath of a baby or baby’s breath because that’s totally what a flower should be called. “Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t send baskets of baked goods and flowers to my friends.”

She’s definitely going to kill Killian. The word is in his name, so it’s basically fate.

Murder should not be where her mind goes.

That is probably not the reaction most people have when they’re sent flowers by the man they may possibly have some major feelings for, but she is not most people. She thinks of murder when she should be thinking of...romance? Is that the word she’s looking for? Do these flowers signal romance?

It’s all confusing. Seriously. She has no idea what’s going on. She has no idea if there should be feelings of romance or murder or even friendship.

Okay, friendship seems like the best option. Murder seems like the worst.

“Those probably aren’t for me,” she lies, knowing that it’s a horrible one, especially since David already knows who sent them.

David rolls his eyes before placing them on her desk. “Your name is on the note.”

She glances toward the flowers and at the note, Killian’s handwriting largely penned across the envelope, before she looks up at David, nerves working their way down her arms. Which, technically thinking, that’s how nerves work, but she was never really very good at biology.

“Did you read it?”

“I can be an ass, but I’m not going to read the closed note that your not-boyfriend sent you.” David shrugs his shoulders and sits down in his desk chair, rolling it up underneath the desk. “And I’m not as nosy as my wife.”

“Which is why I can spend so much time with you.”

“You have to spend time with me. Did you notice that we’re missing the hard copies of the files for the Anderson case from two years ago?”

“Yep. I’ve already emailed the records office at City Hall to see if they have anything. I don’t know why it would be there, but it always could be.”

“If this town ever had serious crime, we would be screwed.”

“Hey no, I kick ass. We could totally work that thing out.”

“You’d intimidate everyone until they confessed.”

“I am a very intimidating woman.”

“Who receives flowers from men who are pining after her.”

She huffs, not wanting to even respond to that, but she grabs her empty to-go cup from her coffee this morning and throws it at David, hitting him in the back of the head. He doesn’t even acknowledge it, letting the paper fall to the ground and clatter against the tile floor all while he hums to himself a theme song that she recognizes from one of Leo’s shows…which means she’s heard that theme song far too many times since it’s not her kid.

Seriously.

And Killian Jones is not pining after her. Definitely not.

(David knows far too much, but at least he doesn’t know that Killian is her soulmate.)

They fall back into work after that since they are technically supposed to be competent professionals in a very loose sense of the word, and she tries not to look at the vase of flowers on her desk for the next few hours, telling herself that it’s not a big deal and she absolutely will not read the note until she’s finished getting through this section of files. She will do her job first…whatever it is with Killian can come second.

Surprisingly, working on her computer keeps her busy until her shift is over, and since it’s Friday, she picks up her vase of flowers and holds them in her lap as she drives home, hoping that there’s not pollen or anything to get onto her shirt since she knows from experience that it’s hard to get out. Plus, she really likes this shirt. And it’s not until after she’s changed out of it and into some shorts and a t-shirt that she remembers to check her phone and the note that came with the flowers.

The note with the flowers comes first. Priorities and all that.

Swan,

So I couldn’t decide between sunflowers and yellow roses. And before you get any ideas as to why I’ve sent you flowers (besides the fact that I imagine whoever delivers them to you will tease the hell out of you. I’m hoping for Dave.), just know that Luis and Luca made me buy a voucher booklet from their school, and the one to the floral shop was about to expire. So it was either you or Will, and Will isn’t quite as pretty as you are.

I hope they bring a little extra sunshine to your day.

Killian

She pulls out her phone and sends of a quick text, unable to stop the small smile that’s formed on her face. Unable to want to stop it, really, as she falls back against the couch, her legs hanging over the end.

Emma: I’m glad you used your flower shop voucher on me.

Killian: Yeah, well, like I said, the other option was Will.

Emma: If he comes over tonight, I’ll tell him they’re for him.

Killian: They viewing apartments still?

Emma: Yep.

Emma: I have ‘All By Myself’ playing on repeat.

Killian: That’s very fitting.

Emma: I thought so. Any fun plans for you tonight?

Killian: I am wrapping all of the gifts for tomorrow and then going to sleep early to celebrate the near end of summer and my mildly busy season.

Emma: You are the life of the party.

Killian: Just wait until the baby shower tomorrow. I’m going to crush all of those awful games. No one can change a diaper as fast as I can.

Emma: Is that on your resume?

Killian: Yep. Liam is a bloody stickler of a boss. The skills we have to have here are insane.

Emma: I thought you were co-owners? I don’t think of Killian Jones of ever being anything other than a boss.

Killian: I have that commanding of a presence, do I?

Emma: Well, your ego does demand a lot of the space in the room.

Killian: Luckily for you, I’m happy to share the space so your ego can have a little room to breathe as well.

-/-

When she wakes up the next morning, it’s to the sound of movement in Belle’s bedroom, and she instinctively pulls her pillow over her face. Maybe it’s to cover her ears. Maybe it’s to smother herself over the sounds that she’s hearing in the next room. Who knows? She certainly doesn’t. And as sad as she is to be losing Belle as a roommate whenever she and Will find a place of their own, she is certainly not going to miss the muted sounds of Will’s dirty talk.

Seriously.

A woman can only take so much.

(Belle can apparently take a lot. She keeps asking for more.)

Instead of suffering in silent misery, she gets up out of bed and slips into a pair of sandals, figuring she can go check her mail just to get out of the apartment while Belle and Will finish. She and Killian have mostly been texting over the last few weeks, their conversations going deep into the night and throughout the day, but they’re also still sending letters. It’s a weird thing, she knows, and every internal instinct that she has is telling her to burn the letters and run, but something keeps her from setting it all aflame.

Someone.

She’s lost her mind. She really has. Killian is…he’s Killian. He’s a nice, handsome guy who makes her laugh and causes the bricks weighing down her shoulders to lift one by one until she’s not feeling quite so weighed down anymore. He’s her – they match up well, and she still doesn’t know how to feel about that. She knows how she feels about him, she knows that she likes him, that she enjoys talking to him in the limited way that they can, but then, in the back of her mind that demon comes out and whispers in her ear that he only likes her because they’re soulmates, that the knowledge is tainting their...relationship thing.

That’s been one of her worst fears ever since she found it.

Because what if she falls in love and he doesn’t? What if they break up? What if it doesn’t work out? What does she do then? What happens if the one person she’s supposed to be with forever doesn’t want to be with her? Is she supposed to then live out the rest of her life as the poor girl who was too broken for even the universe to help out?

The ‘what ifs’ kill her.

Not really. She’s obviously still alive and breathing and all that fun jazz, but they still keep her up at night wondering of all the ways this could go wrong. And she doesn’t really know how any of this can go right. She likes sex. It’s a great time, it feels freaking fantastic, but she and Killian can’t possibly live out the rest of their lives wanting to constantly have sex whenever they have conversations. Logistically, that’s not possible. And, like, she knows it’s better now than the first time they met, than the second time too, but every time she spends an extended amount of time with him, especially when they talk, all she wants to do is grab him by the collar again and kiss him.

Just without the clothes and all.

Definitely without the clothes.

If she could put into words how she’s feeling, she’d write it in one of these damn letters and never mail it simply so that she can maybe understand.

Understanding is never going to happen.

There’s no one at the mailboxes or in the laundry room, so before she even gets her mail, she runs back upstairs and grabs her basket of clothes and detergent, humming to block out the noises still happening, and then walks back to the basement, putting her clothes in the washing machine before getting her mail, taking the one letter that resides there, and propping herself up on the wall of unused machines as she reads.

Emma,

I’m going to blame the rum for this letter. I really am. It’s around two in the morning, the moon high in the sky. We’ve just spent the day together, which was bloody wonderful by the way, and I can’t seem to stop thinking of things. Even as I write, it seems rather foolish to put my thoughts onto paper, but hopefully I won’t think to mail the letter. Or maybe I should. I honestly don’t know. This is all uncharted territory for me, and I seem to be diving in headfirst even if I am wearing a life jacket.

You see, I rather fancy you, Emma (No Middle Name) Swan, and it’s been a long time since I fancied a woman for more than one night or possibly a few weeks. The last time that I did, I had my heart broken so horribly that I retired from the Navy and moved across an ocean. Quite dramatic, don’t you think? I’ve been told that I’m a dramatic ass. That may have been Liam, but it also may have been you. I can’t recall at the moment.

Her name was Milah. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, and I loved her with what felt like every beat of my heart until her heart was no longer mine to love. We met at a Naval Christmas ball. She was there with her brother, and I’ll never forget the black dress that she was wearing. We danced, and as they say, the rest is history. But as you know, I’m a bit of a history buff, so I like the details. I imagine you might too. I always knew that she wasn’t my soulmate. I didn’t have a sign, but she did, a simple tattoo on her hand. It was something we didn’t talk about in our three years together until one day we came across a man with a matching tattoo. She didn’t leave me, not at first, but as she got to know him, she fell for him. And who was I to keep two soulmates from having each other?

I think that’s what makes it worst of all. There was nothing wrong between us, but she had someone who she belonged with. It wasn’t me.

So you may think you’re the only person with an aversion to soulmates. You’re not. We all have our issues, our baggage, but I’ve found that since spilling that iced water down your dress (you should wear that dress more often by the way) the weight on my shoulders seems to have lessened. I’m…happier, I guess. I have such a wonderful life, but lately, I’ve had more reason to laugh. I think it’s because of a certain blonde with a penchant for mismatching her socks and junk food that no sane person would ever eat so regularly.

But who knows? This could all be the rum speaking.

Love,

Killian

She reads the letter three more times before she truly allows herself to let all of it sink in. It’s been three weeks since Labor Day, three weeks of the two of them going on and continuing to text and write letters – ones other than this one – and yet this one has shown up in her mailbox this morning. Either the US Postal Service really sucks or Killian didn’t send this the night he wrote it. He was likely drunk, at the very least tipsy, but he’s the most well-spoken (written) drunk man she’s ever seen.

And he bared his soul to her.

Because she makes him happy.

She does that.

Her gut feeling is to run, not really sure where she’d run to since this town and these people are her family and she’d never leave them, but she wants to run from her feelings, from the way that her insides unpleasantly twist and the way her heart squeezes. She knows that she feels the same way about Killian, that he makes her happy, but seeing it written out like that, seeing the words in Killian’s handwriting, that’s an entirely different story. And it doesn’t matter that he was drunk. Drunk words are sometimes the most truthful.

How in the world is she supposed to handle any of this?

Does she push it away? Pretend she didn’t get the letter? Does he even know that he sent it? Does he remember writing it? Should she write something back? What the hell would she write back? How would she even do that without having a little liquid courage too?

She can’t get drunk today, not with Ariel’s baby shower, but she really, really wants to.

That’s the thing too. She’s not even sure if she wants to get drunk for herself or because Killian’s letter brought back every feeling of abandonment she’s ever experienced. He was left, just like her yet again, and whether she likes it or not, they do understand each other.

(Of course she likes it, likes being understood.)

Her brain never quite turns off after that, reading the letter over and over again so many times that she might as well have it memorized, and she only knows that she moves because she changes her clothes over into the dryer, cleaning out the lint filter before twisting the knob and listening to it rattle to drown out all of her thoughts.

Goodbye shower. The laundry room is now the place to have an existential crisis.

But she does somehow manage to turn her thoughts off enough to know that she really does need to shower, so while her clothes are drying, she heads back upstairs and takes one, quickly washing her hair and her body, shaving her legs up to her knees since her dress for today only really shows half of her calves. She’s got three hours until Ariel’s baby shower, but she needs something to do, so she tugs on her dress, letting the blue and white striped print hug her body, and takes the time to apply her makeup, going through an actual routine instead of simply slapping some mascara onto her lashes.

Today really must be shaping up to be a day.

“Why are you already dressed?” Belle asks when she walks out of her bedroom, making her jump at the sight of Belle sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal in pajamas that she definitely wasn’t wearing an hour ago. “And why do you look like a deer in the headlights?”

“Oh, I, um…”

She tugs at the waist of her dress, pulling the tie a bit to tighten it as she thinks of a lie. As much as Belle knows about she and Killian, she doesn’t know the half of it. She purposely hasn’t told anyone. She can’t. If everyone thinks that she and Killian are flirting and maybe fucking, that’s fine with her. That’s nothing. But if anyone were to know that they were soulmates, it’d make everything far more complicated. There would be expectations and hopes, and if others have those, how could she not? And why can she not figure her brain out?

But Killian told her he wouldn’t tell anyone, so no one else is going to know.

“I’m doing laundry,” she finally says, knowing that the best lies are routed in truth. “I needed something to pass the time, so I went ahead and got ready. Well, with everything but the mess of my hair.”

Belle’s brows pinch together, but she doesn’t say anything else, scooping her spoon into her bowl before taking another bite. “So Will and I think we found an apartment yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, nodding her head. “It’s downtown, in that cute little complex across the street from Granny’s with the pink awning. I loved it. I mean, it’s bigger than this place, but it feels very homey. And there’s this built in bookshelf that I think I might love more than I love Will.”

“Oh good. That means I can keep the one here.” Belle rolls her eyes, and Emma walks forward to pull out her chair from the table before sitting down. “I’m so happy that you guys found a place. Like, obviously I’m going to miss you, but after the show I heard this morning, I think we might need a little space.”

Belle doesn’t even blush. All she does is reach into her bowl and pick up a dried strawberry, flicking it at her. “In all fairness, you never wake up that early on a Saturday.”

“I mean, how could I sleep through such a performance? Whatever you’re doing, you’re obviously doing very well.”

“You’re going to share all of this at the wedding, aren’t you?”

“Oh absolutely. And if you put a little tequila in me, I might even act out my own version of the events.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll get arrested for that.”

“I’m on good terms with cops. Where is your partner in crime, by the way?”

“I left Ariel’s present at his place, and he went ahead and went home to get it and get ready. You want to drive there together?”

“Absolutely.”

-/-

“Why do you look like you’re dying?” Ariel asks, wrapping her arm around Emma’s waist as she stands in Ariel’s kitchen looking at the spread of food out ahead of her, Max wandering around the table in an attempt to get scraps.

“Because I am. What’s up with the creepy pigs in a blanket snacks that are made to look like babies? Am I supposed to eat those?”

“No, no.” Ariel rubs her hand up and down Emma’s back, and if she wasn’t already thinking about the fact that one of her best friends is having a baby while the other is getting married, she’d definitely be thinking of all of the motherly instincts that Ariel possesses and how she has likely never had those even if she thought that she did at one point. “That’s just a weird thing that Mary Margaret brought. I think she saw it on Pinterest and thought it would be cute, but it’s super creepy.”

“I mean, like, the creepiest. And the deviled eggs are the same way.”

“I’d stick to other foods if I were you.”

“Anything not baby related.”

“Ah, yes, but save room because I believe there’s a game later where we have to eat baby food.”

“Just kill me now.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

She rolls her eyes and leans her head over to Ariel’s shoulder, wrapping her arm around Ariel’s waist knowing that she’s taking up too much time from the guest of honor, but everyone else seems to be just fine milling around the kitchen and living room, most of Ariel’s regular furniture pushed aside to fit in table cloth covered tables with flower centerpieces sitting in the middle of all of them. It’s cute, and she has to admit that Mary Margaret definitely knows how to host a party, weird food choices aside. But it most definitely hasn’t been the worst hour of her life, especially since she knows every single person here. The only real issue was when Killian showed up because she thought that she was going to have to stop talking, which isn’t the easiest thing in the world when she’s with her friends. But he stayed away from her, making sure to speak quietly instead of being his usual commanding presence.

His words, not hers.

And mostly she was thinking about how refreshing it is to have both the father of the baby and male friends at a baby shower. She gets that the woman pretty much does all of the work (she’d like to speak to someone about that because it seems fundamentally unfair), but both Ariel and Eric are having a baby. It’s not simply Ariel’s to raise. It’s Eric’s too. And yet most fathers don’t show up to showers, don’t put in the effort, and no part of her has ever understood that. But maybe she’s simply hoping for something that’s better than most people’s reality. She doesn’t know. She never had parents, never got to see it first hand, but when she thought…no, it doesn’t matter. None of that was real, and there’s no use in thinking of it now even if thoughts of Neal have been niggling themselves into her mind since this morning.

She’s simply glad that Ariel has Eric, that they have each other and baby Fisher.

They have a family.

“I’m not eating pureed food unless it’s, like, pureed donuts or something.”

“They don’t make pure sugar for infants. That would be a fundamentally awful idea.”

“Eh, I don’t think so. The babies would probably be super happy.”

“You’re going to be the person who gives the baby sugar right before you send them back to me, aren’t you?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Alright,” Mary Margaret claps, making Emma turn her head to look in the living room, “who wants to play a game?”

The game isn’t eating pureed baby food, but somehow it is much, much worse. In reality, she knows that it’s really not that bad. It’s cute and funny, and if she wasn’t who she is, she’d be thankful that this is the game that Mary Margaret picked out because it’s damn fun.

Who’s That Baby?

She’s got a large board full of baby pictures, some of them adorable, others a little scary (not that she would ever say that out loud), and everyone is having to guess which baby is who. She hasn’t guessed a single one because, really, she’s selfish and can only think about the fact that her picture isn’t up there.

And she knows this because, well, Mary Margaret never asked her for one. While Mary Margaret can work wonders, it would be pretty much impossible for her to gather baby pictures of everyone without anyone knowing, so she must have asked everyone to send them in. But Emma was never asked, not at all. Sure, she could pass it off as an oversight, as a mistake, but she knows that none of that is true.

Mary Margaret didn’t ask for her baby picture because she knows that she doesn’t have any.

Today was not supposed to be emotional like this. Today was supposed to be…a sob suddenly catches in her throat, one she has to force to keep down, and when she feels hot tears forming in her eyes, threatening to escape, she quietly excuses herself from the room, knowing that she won’t be missed if she ducks into the bathroom for a moment. But the bathroom is locked, and since she sure as hell isn’t going to go into the nursery right now, she opens Ariel’s bedroom door and collapses against the wall, letting her legs bend until she’s sitting on hardwood and pulling her legs to her chest as she tries to breathe.

Breathing is seeming pretty difficult at the moment.

So is not crying.

Why does she want to cry?

That’s a dumb question. She knows why she wants to, why she’s about to, but it’s been almost eight years. Things like this shouldn’t hurt anymore, should they? She should be over it. She has to be over it.

She isn’t over it.

Another sob rumbles through her, this one escaping from the confines of her throat, and when she hears it, even she notices how ugly of a sob it is. It’s one of those where she can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but let her shoulders tremble and tears fall down her cheeks. The more she tells herself to calm down, the more uncontrollable she gets, the more she feels like she has no control over anything.

And then there’s a click, a turn of a knob, and she’s paralyzed in fear and embarrassment that is only exacerbated when she sees tight blue jeans over muscled legs and a simple white button down with small light blue stripes that she knows belongs to Killian.

Words don’t come out of her mouth even though she’s got an excuse on her tongue, a pathetic one about being allergic to the weird baby themed foods, and while she expects him to be snarky, he’s not. It’s so much worse because after she takes one look at the raised brow on his forehead, he slides down on the wall next to her, their thighs hitting each other as his arm wraps around her shoulder so tentatively that she nearly grabs onto it and pulls it over her shoulder herself.

She definitely has gone crazy.

But when she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away from his embrace, he moves closer to her, his embrace a little tighter, and she can feel the heat of his body all over her as his hand rubs up and down her shoulder while she buries her face in his shirt near the slight exposure of his collarbone and the chain that resides there. He smells like the spice of his cologne, something warm and comforting, and even though it’s ridiculous, that’s what calms her, what makes her stop crying, just the smallest of whimpers and hiccups occasionally escaping her lips.

It should hit her that she’s having a meltdown in her best friend’s bedroom at said best friend’s baby shower in front of the man who she has…something with. But honestly, she feels puffy and exhausted, and she’s more concerned with the fact that her mascara is going to ruin Killian’s shirt and the way that his hand seems to be large enough to cover every inch of her as he comforts her.

And she focuses on the fact that he’s silent.

Well, he was.

“You know, darling, I think that you should cry in here a little longer so that Ariel and Eric can get some practice with someone crying in their bedroom at weird times.”

She huffs into his chest, rubbing her nose into his collarbone as his scent consumes her. “That’s bold of you to assume that there’s not already someone crying in here on a regular basis.”

There’s a thud against the wall as Killian’s head falls back with laughter, his chuckles deep but light, and she hiccups again in response, not really able to do much else.

“Now, Swan, I don’t think their sex life is that bad. They are having a baby.”

“Believe it or not, an orgasm is not required for conception.”

“No, it’s not.” He rubs his hand up and down her arm again, squeezing her bicep before continuing and moving along her back so that his nails trace patterns into her skin. She must be really upset and out of touch with herself right now because they’re talking, and she feels no shivers running down her spine or heat curling between her thighs. Maybe all it takes is for her to be having a meltdown. That makes it even worse. It’s probably just that they haven’t talked enough. “Would you like to talk about what’s got you hiding away in here, or do you want to talk about our friends’ sex life for a little longer?”

“Can I have the option of neither?”

“No.”

“That’s unfair.”

“So is life.”

Emma rolls her eyes knowing that Killian can’t see it, and maybe that is the reason why she rubs her eyes into his shirt some more. “Aren’t you going to get a boner if I talk too much?”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Ridiculous man.

(Sweet man.)

“I got your letter about Milah this morning.” Killian’s hand stills and his tongue clicks, but she keeps going, knowing that if she’s going to talk, it’s got to be while she can’t control her body and emotions and her tongue basically has free range. “I don’t know if you knew that you sent that, if you did it on purpose or got drunk again, if the mail was just late. I don’t know, but I read it while washing clothes and I hated it. I hated that you were screwed over, that you were screwed over by the whole soulmate thing. I mean, you were in love, and it ended because of what? Because she had a tattoo that matched another man? That’s such bullshit.”

“It’s okay, love.”

“It’s not. Nothing about any of this is okay. But, like, that’s not even why I’m having a meltdown. I mean, you definitely put me in a confused mood because you talked about your heartbreak and how I’m helping with that, and I – I can’t deal with any of that right now when all I can think about today is the fact that there are all of those baby pictures up on that board and not one of them is of me. Mary Margaret didn’t even ask because she knows that I don’t have one, that no one cared enough about me to take a picture and give it to me. And obviously I’m spiraling because then I get upset about a baby that never even existed. I’m not even one of those people who desperately wants a baby or something.”

“What are you talking about, Swan? What baby?”

The only reason she has the bravery to say this is because she’s not being forced to look at Killian, to look at the blue of his eyes, and if she can’t see his eyes, none of this is real, right? It’s like the texts. They’re separated enough that it’s not all overwhelming for her.

“When I was seventeen, I met a guy, Neal. You’ve probably heard of him from our friends. They’ve never met him, but I guess…he’s kind of a legend in the group. Anyways, we dated for three years, and when I was twenty, my period was late. So obviously I’m freaking out, probably having a panic attack, but then I take a test that says I’m pregnant. And weirdly, I feel calm. I feel calm because, you know, I’m going to have a family, have something I’ve never had.”

“Swan – ”

“I wasn’t pregnant,” she interrupts, not wanting him to stop her and ask any more questions. “It was a false positive, a cheap test. But I didn’t know that until after I told Neal, and he basically told me that I should have kept my legs shut before packing his bags and leaving to go live with his father in fucking Tallahassee. So I was left alone with no boyfriend, no kid, and a hell of a lot of bitter thoughts because I thought the man was my soulmate and I’d never have to feel alone again. I thought I was done being abandoned. The joke was on me.”

She’s not crying anymore, not even sniffling, but she feels cold and stiff and like she can’t really breathe through her nose. Here she is baring her soul to this man who has all of the power to break her, and yet she still told him, still let the words pass her lips are they were spoken into his skin. But he did tell her about himself too, tell him how he was broken too, and maybe that comforts her.

Maybe it also comforts her that she knows Killian’s got to be pitching a tent right about now. She’s been talking for ten minutes at the very least with her long pauses and ramblings, and there’s no way that he isn’t struggling. And yet he’s sat in almost silence listening to her and comforting her all the while he wants to fuck her.

What the hell even is their lives?

And that’s why she starts laughing, a chuckle bubbling up through her throat while her shoulders shake, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile, and she moves her head up to look at Killian even though she knows that she probably looks like a raccoon would after a night out at the bar.

That thought is unsurprisingly not the weirdest thought she’s ever had, not even the weirdest this week.

“There’s that smile,” Killian encourages, nodding his head and thumb at her chin while his own smile appears on his face, making eyes crinkle. She likes that a lot. It makes her stomach twist in unfamiliar and yet not entirely unpleasant ways. He complains about them only being there because he’s older than her, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest. “The sun would rise early to see your smile.”

“But then I would literally get less sleep or have to spend money on blackout curtains.”

“I’ll buy them for you.”

She chuckles again and shakes her head even as Killian’s thumb moves from her chin to beneath her eyes, wiping away the tears that remain and probably still continue to flow. She feels like jelly or a blob or something else shapeless, something else that can’t be contained. They haven’t been this close since…she wants to say since she kissed Killian on the fourth of July, but it’s most likely as close as they were on Labor Day.

Summer holidays seem to be a pattern for them.

But it’s nearing autumn now, and her breath hitches as she looks at the scar on his cheek, the freckles near his nose, the long, dark lashes contrasting against blue eyes. He’s such an attractive man, almost so much that it would take her breath away if it wasn’t already gone. She’s not going to kiss him now. She knows that he’s not going to kiss her. But their breaths are intermingling, and she can still feel the warm presence of his hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry that you were hurt like that,” he whispers, her gaze flicking up from his lips to his eyes. “I’m sorry that you were hurt by Neal and Walsh and your parents and every other person who doesn’t deserve you and your funny sense of humor and kind heart.”

“It’s fine. It was all a long time ago.”

“Wounds made when we’re young tend to linger, and it very obviously isn’t fine. You’re having a bit of a time hidden away in our friends’ bedroom, and that’s okay. You’re allowed to be hurt. I wrote you a drunk letter about my ex because I was hurt. I still get angry over my dad leaving and my mom dying. The universe has fucked me over in a lot of ways, but I think it did something right in letting me meet you.”

Oh well damn. That’s just not fair.

“No one should be as good with words as you are. Like, even your drunk letters were basically professional novels.”

He shrugs at the same time that he reaches forward to tuck her hair behind her ear, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down her spine. “I was a wonderful English and literature student if I do say so myself. And for someone who reads as many books as you do, I’m surprised you’re not always speaking in limericks.”

“Yeah, well, besides the occasional historical romance, I read a lot of books about murder and mystery. They’re not exactly teaching me to speak like Shakespeare.”

“All I got out of that was that you know how to murder me and get away with it.”

Emma chuckles, shaking her head as she gently pats his chest, their faces still impossibly close. “I’ve told you before, I’m not someone you really want to mess with.”

His brows raise in the way that they always do, the lines on his forehead appearing. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve told you how I quite fancy with you even when you’re yelling at me, haven’t I?”

“You fancy my ass,” she deflects.

“I am a fan of every part of you,” Killian sighs, rubbing his hand over her back in the way that he does where his hand nearly covers all of her, his forearm pulling her closer. “If that includes your ass, so be it. Though, I always considered myself a breast man. You seem to have converted me to both.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or completely and totally disgusted.”

“You can compliment my ass if it makes you feel better.”

Rolling her eyes, she pulls back from him, putting more space between as she moves back to sit a little closer to the bed, her limbs still a little shaky. “I’m not falling for that.”

“Damn, I really could have used the ego boost.” Killian stands from the ground, and she’s not at all distracted by the way his thigh muscles look under his jeans. But maybe she kind of is as she doesn’t notice the way he holds his left hand out, the one covered in scars from the accident, until he’s looking down at her expectantly. She takes his hand, the warmth and roughness overwhelming her, and he helps her stand so that her legs are a little more stable. “Do you think you’re ready to go back to the party? I’m sure they’ve moved onto A opening up breast pumps and someone doing something entirely inappropriate with them. How could we miss that?”

“I mean, the only thing that could top that would be if there were more weird, baby-shaped food.”

“Isn’t that bloody disturbed?” Killian laughs, his face lighting up with joy in that way that makes her stomach twist yet again. Her intestines must really hate her. “I mean, why would I eat that?”

“Because it tastes good.”

“You should not say things like that. I can’t look at you the same way hearing those words come out of your mouth.”

“Hey now.” She holds her hands up before reaching back and tucking the hair that keeps falling in her face behind her ears. “At least there’s not one of those cakes with the baby’s head coming out of a frosting vagina.”

“Swan,” he groans, leaning forward and resting his head against her shoulder while his own shoulders heave with muted laughter, “please don’t talk about that. I’m rather fond of that particular area, and I’d rather not imagine things coming out of it.”

“That sounds kind of painful for all of your sexual partners if you can’t pull out.”

“Well, the baby does have to be made somehow.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”

“You can’t say that about everything that I say.”

“I can if you keep getting that ridiculous.”

Killian laughs once more before leaning back off of her and wrapping an arm around Emma’s shoulder, the weight heavy and comfortable while he opens the bedroom door with his free hand. “Come on, love. Let’s go see if there’s a cake depicting Ariel giving birth. If not, I hear Mr. French takes requests.”

Ridiculous.

Such a ridiculous man who is making her laugh and feel comfortable with his arm around her shoulder after she just spilled her guts to him about some of the darkest parts of her life. She should feel uncomfortable, awkward, ready to run. She’s been waiting for all of those things since she read his letter. They’re not coming. They could later, but for now, all she can do is laugh at Killian telling her about Liam nearly passed out when Elsa gave birth.

In all of this, all that has happened, all that she has revealed, only one cohesive thought truly remains.

She and Killian are inevitable, always have been, always will be, and she’s fallen into the trap of liking him much more than she ever intended to.

Maybe even loving him.

That’s the craziest thought of them all.

But she has to wonder about the fact that she didn’t feel aroused once in that conversation when she always thought that was the thread that was holding the two of them together.

#Not Your (soul)Mate #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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yanak324 · 4 years

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50 Questions 🤓

Tagged by some talented unicorns @fineosaur & @chasingforeverandaday.

what is the colour of your hairbrush? i have two. One flat gold one and a silver round one for my finicky bangs.

name a food you never eat? I really hate eggplant, and I can’t stand the taste of cilantro…RIP because I love Mexican food.

are you typically too warm or too cold? too hot. I run hot af.

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? multitasking on a work call whilst scrolling tumblr…what else.

what's your favourite candy bar? Snickers…I’m so basic.

have you ever been to a professional sports game? Yes! I fulfilled my dream and saw a live soccer game last summer, and I frequently go to hockey games. A def. live sports fan over here.

what is the last thing you said out loud? “that makes sense to me” - because that’s what you say in corporate America when you haven’t been paying attention :).

what is your favourite ice cream? strawberry…yum.

what was the last thing you had to drink? coffee…

do you like your wallet? yes v much. i upgraded to a designer wallet last year and I salivate over it every time I use it. It has pink, black and white designs on it. *drool*

what is the last thing you ate? tomato toast…those who follow me on insta know I’ve been searching for the perfect heirloom tomato toast!

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? I did…I ordered a bunch of stuff online and it all fit…YAY.

what's the last sporting event you watched? I think a hockey game that was on…or maybe basketball. I really can’t recall.

what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? salted! always. im a salty bitch to the end of my days. - keeping this response from @fineosaur, because she is correct.

who is the last person you sent a text message to? my bestie to complain about how this coworker of mine I can’t stop staring at in meetings because he’s so hot isn’t on camera today. :(

ever go camping? my version of camping is opening a window in my hotel room :)

do you take vitamins? no.

do you regularly attend a place of worship? if by place of worship you mean my bedroom, then yes I regularly attend it.

do you have a tan? a little bit. I’m pretty fair skinned but my shoulders and arms look pretty nice lately.

do you prefer chinese or pizza? pizza or nothing.

do you drink your soda through a straw? i do not drink soda, but I’ll slam about ten la croixs a day and I never use a straw.

what colour socks do you usually wear? white, pink, and gray :)

do you ever drive above the speed limit? i have an itch for speeding so I’m not really allowed to drive…

look to your left, what do you see? a mess of cords and a standing lamp.

what chore do you hate most? sweeping. yuck.

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? Crocodile Dundee...

what's your favourite soda? does la croix count??

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? def. drive through - which is really the only option lately huh.

what's your favourite number? I think i like the number 11 but I’m not sure why, except that it’s so different from the other teen numbers.

Who’s the last person you talked to? my roommate and I had a quick but intense discussion about the last episode we watched of West Wing. What a great show.

favourite cut of beef? if i had to go with anything, it would be a skirt steak but I generally do not like beef.

last song you listened to? Never tear us apart (cover) by Paloma Faith. this gives me a great opportunity to plug the absolute brilliance of The Umbrella Academy soundtrack…Gerard Way is a fucking genius.

last book you read? reading A Million Junes by Emily Henry.

favourite day of the week? Fridays, absolutely.

can you say the alphabet backwards? nope.

how do you like your coffee? black & strong…I’m a purist.

favourite pair of shoes? my pink Keds with gold polka dots on them. They are friggin adorable. Also my black slippers.

time you normally get up? 8am..and not a moment later.

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets, because I haven’t seen a sunrise in years.

how many blankets on your bed? just two.

describe your kitchen plates? we have a mismatch of cutlery but the cutest ones are these powder pink ones my roommate bought. They come with matching mugs.

describe your kitchen at the moment? an organized mess. we try.

do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? a nice rich glass of red wine…also a huge bourbon fan and can crush a vodka OJ like no one’s business.

do you play cards? yes.

what colour is your car? i don’t own a car. :/

can you change a tire? hahahaha no.

your favourite state? California as a whole…NY comes a close second but i don’t know it as well.

favourite job you've had? this reminds me of “i simply do not dream of labor.” Real talk though, last year I was in a job that drained me creatively and emotionally and mentally - and I’m in a much better place with my corporate job now. Long term goal is definitely to get published. Being an author would be my absolute dream and I’m manifesting it!!

Tagging @jepshe @lightninginabottle0613 @thereluctantbadger @lostinmirkwood @speechphi @beautifulinsanesanity gimme. :)

#personal #50 questions tag #this one is robust but fun #unless you dont like talking about yourself #friyay

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creative-poptart · 5 years

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For the UT and US skelly bros, what if their crush usually seemed like the lazy type? Usually sitting around or just generally not doing anything special but was actually quite active when alone? It's not that they didn't like doing stuff around others they just happened to be more productive when no one else was around.

An interesting prompt! I wish I could say I was productive, but I’m not really ^J^’

UT Sans/Vanilla: This is just fine for him, really, because he’s super lazy himself, so if you don’t like to do things, you can be lazy together! Honestly, he doesn’t care if you like to be productive, but he really cherishes having snuggle times with you (and yes he will call it that even if you aren’t officially dating yet) regardless of your own productivity levels. He’s used to Creampuff taking the responsibilities on most levels anyway, but it’s still nice to have a crush who will take initiative upon occasion. It doesn’t really change his opinion of you either, but it is a surprise the first few times you end up making the living room tidy when everyone else is out. Vanilla will actually fall a little more in love with you when you take the time while he’s not around to make him a treat or two, and then he’s completely hooked when you manage to get something organized that he had been trying and failing to do for months.

“you are one of the most amazing humans i know, did’ya know that? no? guess i’ll have to start telling you a lot more because you deserve it.”

UT Papyrus/Creampuff: The initial phase where you are simply lazy is something that is very reminiscent of his brother and just the tiniest bit agitating. He really doesn’t like being the only one who does the work in the house, so you not doing a lot while he’s around is something that elicits a deep sigh from him. He still likes you, don’t make that mistake, Creampuff just sees this as more of a challenge to help you overcome! However, when he comes over to your house at one point and sees stacks of completed paperwork, he’s surprised. He thought you were completely lazy, but that was clearly not the case, color him impressed! It’s a little inconvenient that you can only be productive when other people aren’t nearby to help you, but he can be okay with that! He’s not entirely in love with you because of the fact you have a lazy streak, but that’s easily smoothed over when he discovers that you can still do a lot of other things without extra prompting (who’s he kidding, he’s head over heels for you).

“WOWIE! I WAS NOT AWARE THAT THERE WERE HUMANS LIKE THAT! COULD YOU PERHAPS TEACH MY BROTHER THE SAME SORT OF TECHNIQUES TO YOUR PRODUCTIVITY?”

US Sans/Blue: Now with him, this is almost a deal breaker, if not for all your other good qualities. The fact that it seems you can’t even lug yourself off the couch to do a single thing around the house? That’s unhealthy and he doesn’t want to condone that sort of behavior from you, even if he’s got a massive crush on you. When you prove, quite on accident, that you can be productive by clearing out their fridge and completely reorganizing it with a helpful chart and everything labeled with dates, that thought goes away. Turns out that while Blue is a bit of a neat freak, your specific brand of productivity is just what he likes to see. That crush he has is back in full force now and he’s absolutely hooked on you forever. You may have trouble with being productive all the time, but he doesn’t care about that anymore, and he’s not going to want to let you go.

“THERE IS SO MUCH THAT WE CAN DO TOGETHER NOW! WE CAN MAKE SURE THAT THERE’S A SYSTEM TO THE ENTIRETY OF BOTH OUR HOUSES!”

US Papyrus/Stretch: While he’s not really too bothered by any level of productivity that’s above his own, he recognizes that someone has to do things around here. So for a little bit, it actually kinda bothers Stretch that you don’t seem to do anything really productive with your life. He knows that it isn’t quite fair to blame you, because that’s how some people are, but there’s a nagging sensation in the back of his skull that he needs to look more into this. Sure enough, when you’re having a sleepover with Blue for fun on the weekend, at two in the morning he finds you wide awake and doing the dishes that were intended to be done in the morning. He’ll guide you back to the couch to sleep and silently breathe a sigh of relief that you’re not the person he feared you were. He can handle someone being a little lazy, but as long as they don’t end up being just like him complete utter lazy messes, he’s okay with that.

“stars above, you can’t just walk ‘round at night doin’ people’s dishes. someone might think there’s a ghost ‘r something here. let’s get you to bed.”

Thanks for the ask @hg-anna! (Tumblr why won’t you tag them)

#undertale #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #underswap #underswap sans #underswap papyrus #poptartasks #tarts answers

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shadowdianne · 4 years

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Hi Lulu 😘 - 40 Questions: 2, 14, 17, 28, 38 😁

Hello W <3 Let’s see :P

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Uhm… I probably have thousands of subtropes I haven’t written yet but, truth is, I can’t seem to think of one I’d really love to write about…oh, no, wait. I think I would love to work with the Hanahaki Disease as a trope –you know, the one in where the victim’s lungs get filled with flower petals due to having been struck by one-sided love- I often work with western pairings so the trope hasn’t come up but I would love to study and explore how to make it work.

I believe there was a fic two supernova’s ago maybe that explored the concept in a SQ setting. It was glorious. [And if someone remembers the name of the author or if we are mutuals and you happen to be reading this: hey, you rock]

What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

I tend to stay away from those kind of comments. If the writing advice comes to me I won’t shy away from it or if I’m the one searching for it I will take everything but I don’t usually give much mind to people who try to pontificate just for the lols. In the same vein I don’t think I’m someone who can say that something is a good or bad writing advice without considering that my style and take on writing is not –by any means- universal.

However, I can safely say that anyone who would say that they consider a sex scene written and published in a book from those quotes that we all know about... yeah, for fuck’s sake, don’t do that xD

Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I tend to write a general draft with some pointers on what do I want for certain scenes to have. Like, for example, for the supernova I finally couldn’t participate in I had several pages on some of the scenes despite not having reached that part yet because I needed to remind myself of the character’s mindset so I could build towards that as organically as possible. Yet, I tend to write in order if I have a clear story I want to write. For what I’m currently writing and since it’s a set of short stories- I’m not keeping track of the timeline in an orderly fashion. But I do have a proper order inside my brain which is the one I follow. In general, being me and writing means I have several tabs on timelines –both in my pc or my brain is doing extra hours xd-

Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

The unfairness on this is making me pick only three xd

Ok,ok… how about this. Imma cheat.

First it would be @delirious-comfort. I love the nuances she writes on her characters, how deep she makes you go into the character’s psyche. One of the things that always made me try to excel at writing angst was her; her ability on seeing what needs to be put in paper so the story is understood. I could listen or read her stories all day. I’ve written quite extensively about this to her previously and I can already sense her eyes on me so I’ll refrain but, heh, you know I know-…

The second would be someone that WAS a fic writer but not anymore. Yet, I remember her times as a fic writer and I’m absolutely enamored with her current work so, fuck it, I’m cheating. I already said that.

This one would be @emmasternerradley, I still need to finish and give her a proper review on a book and I’m an awful human being for not having done this already but, life doesn’t want me to write for the whole purpose of falling in love with a fuck. Which is a shame, screw it all and please give me back my free time. Still, the reason why I do love her style is the worldbuilding, the way she creates the world and the reality within her stories so they are a reflection of the characters themselves. The amount of care and love that goes into that, into creating soft yet palpable lines between world and the ones who inhabit them… made me squeal with joy back when I read her sq stories and still do that to this day whenever I’m able to steal some free time and I read her.

I would also add curvy pragmatist [snorts] in this. And as an addendum you can’t tell me I’m cheating, can you? :P But I would also pick her precisely because of how raw, how open, she makes her characters be. I would probably ask to sit in front of one of her characters and simply take coffee with them while letting them speak. That’s how interesting she makes them for me. And real. And human.

I’m also gonna mention you, W, because I do consider you an amazing writer; the kind of one with razor sharp focus, the kind of one that can see beyond the words and the nonsense and the fodder we writers love to put in a paragraph, while going for the deep dive. Your work reflects your love for storytelling in the same way that it makes it breathless. And I would marry your muse in a fucking heartbeat for that.

I need to mention @stregaomega on this as well. For majorly the same reasons but taken from another angle. She is the one who dreams big, who is grandiose, she is the one who fills and colors and adds and fangirls and it’s so fucking exhilarating simply being close to her while she creates. Just thinking that is making me smile: she has the passion, the energy, the ability, and I would simply sit and listen to her as well, for hours on end. I love that about her and she taught me how to drive my patience, how to say “no, let’s think bigger.” I love her for that. I will always love her for that.

I’m also going to mention two writers I know I have already mentioned a couple of times but I haven’t publicly gush about them. One would be the amazingly great Olivia Janae, writer of the Loudest Silence. I think the reason behind that is obvious: she creates the kind of stories that grip your heart and change the color of your very insides as they drive you into a very different world while asking for you to trust them. And I would trust my fucking pen to this woman. I admire not only her drive but the way she makes everything so real that I remember myself gasping, full of pain and sorrow and love, while reading “Home”. The second one is someone I’m not entirely sure that I can tag to this day but I remember being very important for a very younger version of me. And while her style is one I’m not seeing myself reflected onto it anymore I think it shaped my perception on what storytelling meant back when I was starting this whole mess of “reader/writer”. That one would be starvinglunatic. I never posted a comment with my penname on her stories, scared and considerably younger as I was. There are some ffnet reviews floating away though, that are mine and I think they still ring true. Their stories resonated because of how they are created, step by step.

And I want to keep on cheating but this is lengthy enough as it is lol

[ @naralanis dear, consider yourself tagged on this as well. For very good and important reasons. Did you add something to the youknowwhat? Because I received a notification but I couldn’t find what it was]

Talk about a review that made your day.

One made by someone I think that don’t have a tumblr so I can’t tag them but still made me smile for days on end. It’s not a single review though but rather the way they made me feel whenever I saw their name on a comment. I’m talking about someone who goes by essvari. I adored how good she was at spotting details, how in-depth she was with such. And, at the times when I was convinced everything would be best as deleted she made me try to keep slightly harder for a slightly longer. So yeah, she, alongside with you, made reviews that kept me on wanting to write.

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royaltealovingkookiness · 5 years

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ATLA fic rec master-list

A place to organize the ATLA fanfic I like.

I tend to like Zuko-centric stuff, and stories that focus not exclusively on romance (though I do read many different ships as well). As it will become apparent, my taste is rather eclectic, so there can be things in it for everyone.

Most links are to AO3, I just prefer it that much to the layout of ffnet. Also, if I haven’t tagged someone in Tumblr correctly, please give me a shout.

General AUs / Gaang/ adventure (various ships)

The Worst Prisoner by @emletish-fish (WIP) (Zutara) - in this AU starting already from S1, Zuko becomes friends with the Gaang much, much sooner, which means there is lots of amazing

Zuko’s Tiny Dilemma by @botherkupo (slight Zutara) S1 Zuko agebending story featuring Iroh as a teapot! Tiny, grumpy Zuko gets the Mumtara treatment and has great Gaang content. It sweet and funny. Now with an Azula-centric spin-off No Returns, No Refunds

The Undying Fire series by @botherkupo - (there are some ships, but the main focus is Gen) This is an epic Zuko is a firehealer, AU starting with The Blue Spirit, and spanning through each season. Extremely good, lots of Gaang focus, great Aang and Zuko friendship vibes and so much more. I don’t want to spoil it, other than, if you haven’t read it, go read it now!

Another Brother by @awesomeavocadolove (Gen, WIP) Zuko is adopted by Hakoda, grows up as WaterTribe, as another sibling of Sokka and Katara.

The Avatar Makes Three by @awesomeavocadolove (Gen, WIP) - Aang loses, but before he dies, he divides the Avatar spirit between Zuko, Katara and Toph.

Ozymandias, King of Kings by @Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (WIP) - (Zuko/Sokka) This is a pretty dark AU, where instead of exile, Zuko was sent to a work camp before he’s freed by Aang and the others. The Zuko of this story is a pretty traumatized fellow, who is simply sick of everything.

Southern Lights by @colourwhirled - (WIP, it’s Zutara, but it’s so much more). An AU world, where the Avatar has disappeared, the empire won the war. Iroh sets up a specialized unit with a chill airbender, a waterbending prodigy, a run away earth-bender and a banished prince. There is politics, intrigue, adventure, cross-bending, and while the world is different the characters remain very recognizable.)

In His Shoes by @awesomeavocadolove (Zuko/Sokka) It’s a bodyswap AU in Ba Sing Se. I love Ba Sing Se era Zuko and I love any AU where the Gaang sees this version of him.

We Ourselves Must Walk the Path by @winterskywrites (Gen) - short S3 AU where the Gaang really takes Zuko as prisoner in The Western Air Temple.

Fight by Electrons (Gen, WIP ) Zuko chooses differently in Ba Sing Se - now he’s the Gaang’s tour-guide to the Fire Nation. Lots of world-building around the Fire Nation. The story is on hiatus, but it’s still well-worth a read.

Unchained Melody by @awesomeavocadolove (WIP) (Zuko/Sokka), Sokka is stuck in spirit form, only Zuko can see him, S1 AU where Zuko and spirit-form Sokka are forced to hang out together. I mean how could it be wrong?

Little Zuko v the World by @muffinlance (Gen, WIP) Zuko finds Aang when they are both 12 in this S1 AU, which is written with a sweet humour.

Fate Deferred by @catie-does-things (WIP, Zutara) In this story Aang sleeps for another ten years before Zuko and Katara find him. It’s a story of Dadko and Momtara taking Aang to get his training in a world that ended up in a very different way after Sozin’s comet. It weaves together past and present masterfully and it’s as fun to follow the new adventures as it is to follow the past story of Zuko and Katara and see how things ended up as they are.

A Tale of Ice and Water by @soopersara (WIP) (pre-Zutara) - a canon-close AU featuring Avatar Katara, who still finds Aang in the ice.

Zutara

Frozen @Aris Merquoni - The ultimate Zuko gets captured at the North Pole fic.

The Descent @chromeknickers - S1 AU - Katara goes down to the spirit world to drag Zuko back to the living. A cranky waterbender, a pissed-off pony-tailed spirit and a very vivid spirit world.

The Fifth Coloumn @chromeknickers (post-series Assassin AU) Katara is imprisoned by a secret society. A mysterious assassin infiltrates them. This has some dark / mature themes, but a fantastic story overall.

Once Around the Sun by Eleventy7 An amazing post-series eventual Zutara story, focused on Katara, Zuko and Azula. It’s a journey, both inside and out and it is amazing. Soul-searching, bonding, changing, adventure.

Mending Wounds by FictionIsSocialInquiry S2 AU, post-Chase. While lost in the Foggy Swamp, searching for her brother and her Avatar, Katara is haunted by visions of the Fire Nation's disgraced prince. Visions of peace after war, visions of honour and secrets...Katara has some interesting visions in the Swamp)

Stalking Zuko by @emletish-fish Oldie but goldie, Zuko joins the Gaang, Katara takes up stalking. Sweet, funny Zutara fic from the Western Air Temple days.

I Don’t Speak Meow Language by @botherkupo (Boogum) Ba Sing Se-era, Zuko is a tea-server, Katara is a feisty cat AU - sweet, sweet silliness (I adore any fic where anyone from the Gaang gets to see up-close and personal, the sweet, awkward mess tea-shop Zuko is and you can’t get much closer than being a cat)

The Little Adentures of Katara (and One Giant Prince) by @botherkupo (WIP) An early S3 AU where a tiny Katara is stuck with her big princely saviour. I love this one because it gives a rare glimpse into Zuko’s palace life through Katara’s eyes, at the time when Zuko returns to the Fire Nation.

so let us melt, and make no noise by littleloststar - a very moody AU, where Zuko is haunting for the last waterbender and Katara lives alone in an ice-palace. It feels like a Nordic myth with swirling snow and lots of darkness and ice.

Fire Nation Royal Family

Lovable by LadyCharity (Zutara) A very emotional post-series Zuko & Azula story, which is also a Zutara story.

Azula’s Search by crowleyhouseplant (series) (slight TyZula)This story is just my absolute favourite post-series Azula-centric story, featuring an epic Azula/Mai/TyLee/Suki roadtrip to look for clues about Ursa. There is a little background Maiko and TyZula, but it is mostly about Azula’s road to redemption.

The Suns Inside of Us by @crowleyhouseplant - (WIP) this is a sequel to Azula’s Search as she keeps searching her lost firebending, and perhaps her redemption, as she’s trying to figure out her place in the post-series reality, her relationship with Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee and others, but above all, herself.

Call “Uncle” by @jaggedcliffs - (one-shot, Gen) The Gaang slowly adopts Iroh as everyone’s uncle.

Decorum by @sometimeswarrior (Gen) writes many good Iroh-centric one-shots. This one with Iroh & Ozai after the agni kai is my favourite.

stained in tea-colours by sangi - (one-shot, Gen) After the War, Azula eventually comes to live in Ba Sing Se with Iroh. A soulful story about Iroh, Azula and Zuko, and all the wounds they carry and the ties that bind them. It is a fantastic take on post-series Azula and her relationship with Iroh. Sangi has many great one-shots on the Fire Nation Royals, and they are really worth checking out.

There All the Honour Lies by @shastafirecracker (Gen) Iroh & Zuko oneshot, about the immediate aftermath of the Agni kai

our curse by @gaynasas and the last dragon by @runrundoyourstuff (Gen) OK, these are very dark, but very good takes on what would have happened if Ozai made a different decision about Iroh’s fate post S-2. Check out the tags before reading!

Choices by @catie-does-things (Gen) Very interesting one-shot looking at Aang’s decision to spare Ozai’s life from the perspective of Zuko who now has to decide his fate.

Bloodline by monpetitpois (Gen) Multi-generation history of the Fire Nation Royals starting with Sozin to Izumi. It’s well written and in character and has a lovely forcus on Zuko’s and Izumi’s relationship. Character-focused, canon-compliant.

Zuko-centric (various ships & friendships)

the beginning of a new and brighter birth by @captainkirkk (aloneintherain) (Gen) My favourite take on post-series Zuko becoming Fire-Lord. None of that comic nonsense. Very solid political plot, lots of heart and really it’s just the story that had to be told.

The Problem With Zuko by avocadolove (Gen) AU where Lu Ten didn’t die, and Zuko is just an overlooked lesser prince. He is put in charge of imprisoning Aang and his companions.

The Revenant by @achievement-bender (Gen) Zuko helps the Gaang, but in a very different way. A sad, but so good, Ghost!Zuko story. (check out the rest of their stuff - I also love Catch and Release, which is an AU where the Blue Spirit gets captured by Zhao

ribs by @gaynasas (oneshot) (Gen) There are simply not enough Zuko & Aang friendship stories in the world. This one is a great one about bonding over firebending and learning about Zuko’s scars. All of her stuff is very well written and worth reading.

a night at the theatre by @captainkirkk (one-shot) (Gen) Fire Lord Zuko meets the Ember Island Players

A Candle to a Dragon by @achievement-bender (WIP) (Gen) Non-bender Zuko AU. Wow, what a ride with a bookish, sweet, heartbroken Zuko, training with Piandao as he’s trying to figure out who he is without bending in a family of prodigies.

Heartlines by @kuchee (WIP) Zuko loves Katara. Katara loves Zuko. Aang loves Katara. Katara loves Aang. Aang loves Zuko. Zuko loves Aang. It doesn’t have to be a love triangle if everyone has two hands? A lovely Zuko/Katara/Aang OT3 with lots of pining set during a post-series Earth Kingdom natural disaster.

Antebellum by @veliseraptor (Gen) A Zuko & Aang friendship oneshot (did I mention I have a thing for these? Set during the Western Air Temple days.

Towards the Sun by @muffinlance - (Gen, WIP) Zuko is Fire Lord AU - Zuko got imprisoned on the Day of the Black Sun, so never joined the Gaang. After Ozai’s defeat, he becomes Fire Lord by default. So when the Gaang and Iroh show up to hammer out peace, things get complicated. (WIP)

Home We’ll Go by themanofmanyhats - (Gen) This is a post-war take on Zuko’s path crossing again with Lee and his family from Zuko Alone. What can I say? Post-war Earth Kingdom reveals are my jam.

there is fire in me by @suzukiblu - (Gen) - Firebender!Jet with Ba Sing Se era Zuko and Sokka makes for a very unlikely, but great bonding story

Modern AUs

Pulse by @isnt_it_pretty I rarely read modern AUs, but this one caught my eye. It is set in a modern era, but the characters feel really on spot. Warning! it’s super angsty

Welcome Heat by @cowlicklesschick - (Zutara, Sukka) firefighter Zuko and pre-med Katara, with a good side helping of sweet Sokka & Suki romance. It’s fluffy with just the right amount angst, and a reimagined modern world where all the characters fit right in.

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#atla #atla fanfic #fanfic recs #to be updated regularly #housekeeping #masterlist #atla fanfic recs #rtk #cleaned up version #fixed 07.08.09

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