#endings beginnings Frank fanfiction
Note
Okay , onto my Frank request then! Being Frank’s friend and he’s all over the place but he’s attentive when it comes to you . He makes sure you’re okay and looks out for you . One night , he’s driving you to your place . He pulls you close in the front seat , cuddling his side while he’s holding a cigarette and driving with the other hand. When he stops at a red light , he turns to you to tell you how beautiful you are . One thing leading to another , you’re making out and when you reach your house , he’s picking you up by the back of your thighs and carries you inside . He makes you scream that night and then you fall asleep on his chest . But when you wake up , you’re in an empty bed . You’re so upset , thinking Frank treated you like any other girl he takes home for the night . You’re crying and you don’t hear the door opening or a worried Frank rushing to your side after picking up breakfast
18+ minors dni
Oh this sexy menace? Fuck yes.
Frank x f reader
"I don't ca-
"It's y/n"
Franks eyes grew wide, grabbing the phone from his friend to answer his call; he usually lets it go to voicemail but never with you.
"Hey peanut, you okay?"
"Mhm, m'fine" You slur out and he's on his feet making his way to his car. You said you were having a girls night and at least it sounded like you enjoyed yourself.
"Where are you right now"
He comes and grabs you, smirking when you stumble out of the club, right into his arms. He carries you to his car and buckles you in, you have a goofy grin plastered on your face and he's definitely taking a few pictures to tease you with for later.
Once he reaches your place, he has you in his arms again, chuckling at the way you cling onto him while he carries you to your room. He carefully removes your lashes and does his best to take off your makeup. He slips you into one of his shirt's you've stolen, tucking you into bed before crashing on the couch just in case you get sick in the middle of the night.
He knows he can be a bit of a mess but not when it comes to you, not his favorite little peanut.
*****
“I told you it was good” You sass, while Frank shakes his head, taking another drag of his cigarette, driving you home. “Just admit it”
“Fine, it was okay”
“It was more than okay!” You poke his arm, the both of you coming back from a movie you had insisted on going to. If anyone else had told him to go, it would have been a hard no, but for you? He was at your door within minutes. That didn’t mean he wanted to admit it was actually a good movie.
You continue rambling on about the movie, which makes him smile. Everything about you makes him smile. Your voice. Your smile. The way your nose crinkles when you laugh. He takes another long drag of his cigarette, he can’t stop the way his mind is racing; you’re so beautiful and sweet. You’ve been the most consistent person in his life, you’ve been there for him in more ways than he can count. You’re stopped at a red light and he can’t even stop the words tumbling out of his mouth.
“You’re gorgeous”
You roll your eyes, you were not new to Frank’s flirting, this was nothing new.
“Y/n”
Hm. He never used your name. You gasp, feeling his arm pull you closer to him, making him look at you. “You’re so beautiful...”
Your face is near his, you can feel your skin heating up with each passing second. He leans in slightly and before you can stop yourself, your lips smash onto his. His tongue slips past your lips, his fingers tugging your hair gently, as if something he had contained for ages was finally releasing.
You moan, feeling his lips trail down to your neck, whining in protest when he has to reluctantly pull away after the light changes. There's only a few more blocks till you get to your place, but you’re more desperate than ever.
As soon as he pulls up to your drive way, he’s ran around to the passenger seat before you can even unbuckle yourself. He easily lifts you to wrap around his waist, your thighs hugging onto him tightly and his lips are on you again, heading straight to your room.
*****
“Y/n, give it to me baby, just one more sweet heart, c’mon”
Sweat is beading at his forehead, his cock fucking in and out of you, he wants to cum so badly but not until you cum one more time for him. His hands are toying with your clit the other holding your waist while he gazes down at you. His lips are brushing against yours while he rolls his hips, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot each time.
He’s already made you cum twice (the benefit of being friends, you’ve told him what you like and he definitely paid attention during that conversation). The sheets are damp, your mixed arousal dripping out of you, making a mess everywhere. Its sloppy and desperate, pent up tension between you both reaching an all time high.
“F-FR-ANK” you cry out, clenching and squeezing around his cock, your orgasm right on edge. Tears are prickling your eyes, pleasure is surging through your body, because of him. Your walls and fluttering and you can feel his cock throb.
“Cum with me baby, milk my cock, you feel so good baby-fuck-can’t hold it”
“I-fuck-I’m CUMMING” You cling onto him, your pussy making it impossible for him to hold off any longer, he can feel your slick gush out of you and he’s only going to fill you back up.
“Gonna cum so hard for you y/n, FUCK” You can feel his warmth fill you up, his pace unrelenting trying fuck you through your high.
You can barely move afterwards, hardly able to feel the warm wash cloth between your legs. You feel his arms wrap around you to pull you into him; he places your head onto his chest. He’s cradling your head, gently stroking your hair while you fall asleep, you’ve never felt so complete.
****
The bedside his empty.
His clothes are gone.
You don’t see his wallet anywhere.
He left.
You should have known. You were no different. You knew exactly who he was last night, he’d shown you who he was time and time again. Why did you believe you were any different.
Maybe because you actually loved him.
You thought he maybe felt the same.
Guess not.
You curled into a ball, tears streaking your face as you cried, your face buried in your knees. You didn’t even hear the door open, crying harder when you thought about all the times you wished he was yours.
"Peanut? Hey, hey baby" He rushes over to your side, immediately pulling you into his lap. His heart is beating out of his chest, he’s hardly ever seen you cry, mostly because he’s always there to stop the tears before they even start.
"Baby what’s wrong"
"I-” You stop yourself from speaking, your skin heating up while he brushes your hair away from your face waiting for you to answer. You feel can’t bring yourself to tell him why your upset, not wanting him to think you’re clingy, especially if there's nothing more here. He looks terrified, wondering if he hurt you or if you felt pressured into doing something you didn’t want in the first place, he’d never live with himself if he hurt you.
"Baby? Did I do something wro-
"No!" You bite your lip, worried about telling him more. "I-I thought you left" You whisper, looking down at your lap, refusing to look at him.
"No sweet heart, I just went to grab us something to eat, thought you'd like those waffles from the diner" He’s rubbing soothing circles on your back, pulling you to lay on his chest, just like he did the night before. "Why would I leave you"
You shrug, not wanting to tell him you thought he saw you like every other girl he takes home, fearing that really was how he saw you.
"I'd never leave you peanut"
You snuggle into his chest, still feeling unsure. He wraps his arms around you, his lips brushing your forehead. He’s thought about this moment 100 times over, and nothing compares to how perfect you feel, sitting against him.
“You promise?” You whisper, smiling softly when he tips your chin to look up at you.
“Baby, if you haven’t pieced it together already-
He hesitates. He might had said this haphazardly in the past before but this is real. He means it. He doesn’t want to screw this up.
“I love you”
You blink up at him, gasping when he comes down to kiss you, the sweetest softest kiss anyone's ever given you. He stays with you the whole day. Many days. and nights. and you’re always safe. you’re always loved. in his arms.
Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @peaches1958 @kingfleury @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @samfreakingwinchester @xnorthstar3x
#endings beginnings#endings beginnings frank#endings beginnings frank x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan imagine#frank x reader#bucky barnes au#smut#sebastian stan au#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes smut au#fluff#angst#frank bucky#sebastian stan frank
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Day 15- Squirting with Frank (e.b)
678 words
18 + only! NO MINOR INTERACT
Kinktober masterlist
A/N: hey guys, i have to repost all of my 18 days of Kinktober for now. Because my account got suspended last night. Many of you might have read them already, and maybe many more of you might read it for the first time. I'm not someone who asks for reblogs, likes are find by me. But for this one time...i would be very grateful if you could reblog it. To help me go back in the game. I'm sad that i lost all my works. But so grateful i wrote them on Word... Or i would have lost literally months of prepration.
So yeah, Hi again, i'm back, hopping to get back my first account.
Enjoy,
Cloudy
Don't be shy to comment, reblog or like! :)
TW: fingering, handjobs, kissing... frankkkkkkkkkkk
not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own
His hands, his fingers, his forearm…you couldn’t look away. Couldn’t stop thinking of what he did to you three days ago…on this same bar when it was closed, and you were supposed to clean the bar. When you look up, his infuriating smug smirk is on his pretty face.
“What’s up?”, he greets you.
What’s up…. what’s up? THAT’S ALL HE HAS TO SAY? You give him a nod and go to the next customer.
And it’s almost and hide and seek all night, he comes near you, you go the other way, avoiding him, hiding behind your colleagues. But you can’t run away all night, so when you take your break, he’s quick to find you in the office, closing the door behind him.
“What’s up?”, this time his question is less friendly. You avoid his gaze. “Really the silent treatment?” You huff and give him a side look.
“Oh, pretty girl, don’t be mad…”.
“Don’t ever, What’s up? Me again, okay? I’m not your friend.” He approaches you and holds you by the waist. “So, what are we, fuck buddies?”, you make a gag sound, he chuckles. “Friends with benefit, or…are you my squirter…”. You take a step away from him. “Ew, don’t say that.”
“But it’s true, no? I’m the only one, who ever made you squirt.”
You groan, annoyed, “Yes, maybe but don’t be too proud of yourself either…” He comes closer, caging you between him and the wall.
“Oh baby, I can’t stop thinking about it.” You say nothing but he can read it on your face. “And I know you do too. You can’t keep your eyes from my hands.” He shows you two fingers, the two fingers that were knuckles deep inside you. You crossed eyes on them and open your mouth, your hands going to his hips.
“I hate how much I love them, Frank.”, you whisper to him.
“Oh baby, I love how you love them, and I love your tight pussy, loved to make you squirt and dream of making you do it again.” You sigh a moan and looks at the clock.
“I finish in two hours.”
He’s quick to push you against his door when you enter his appartement. Even faster to strip you bear and to throw you, surprisingly gently, on his bed. He’s hovering you.
“So, fingers, huh?”. You nod eagerly and he strokes your body, squeezing your breast tenderly, kissing your mouth and neck.
You look at him, then follow his fingers, your leg spreading on their own accord.
“Eager, baby?”, he whispers in your ear.
“Please, I need them.” His answer is to rub them on your folds, your silky wet folds. One finger in, then another and then his palm is against your clit and you’re a moaning mess. He kisses and licks your breasts, mouth, neck, and you hold his arm and the back of his head. “Oh Frank! This feels so good!”
He kisses you hard, thrusting into your hand. He turns his hand, index on your clit, two in your pussy and the little finger close to your backhole. You arch your back, “YESSSSS”
And that’s when you feel it build, like a teapot, getting hotter and hotter until you snap and cum, squirting hard, drenching the sheets and both of you.
Frank doesn’t stop and you cum again squirting more and more. You squeeze your hand around his cock, he’s still thrusting hard into your palm and he cums, but he doesn’t stop either. Still making you squirt and finally, after what feel like hours you feel something wet on your thigh you turn to see him, face contorts in pleasure and well..he’s squirting to, making you cum again and squirts harder. “Fucccckkk” you both scream in pleasure.
Panting, in your own fluids, Frank and you look at each other. “You squirt”, you state. He nods and kisses you.
“See what you do to me..didn’t think I could do that, knew men could squirt…but yeah, well… magic hands”
You laugh and kisses him again. “Magic hands indeed.”
taglist :
@navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckyalpine @iloveprettyboysblog @ethreal-love @nailedbymandy
@captainsimagines @buckybarnesandmarvel @rogersandlightwood @sparkledfirecracker @barneswinterraven @hansensgirl @blades-and-heartbreak @runa-falls @chrisdrysdale
#kinktober#cloudy&bellaskinktober#kinktober22#kinktober 2022#clo&bellaskinktober#endings beginnings#frank e.b x reader#frank e.b fanfiction#frank e.b smut#sebastian stan characters#sebastian stan fandom
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☽ angst|❁ dark|♡ fluff|✧ smut (18+)
sebastian stan
lee bodecker
right where you left me ☽
all you had to do was stay (pt 2 to right where you left me) ☽ ♡
carter baizen
cruel summer ☽ ✧
the way i loved you (pt 2 to cruel summer) ☽ ✧
frank (!eb)
‘tis the damn season ✧ ☽
last time (pt 2 to ‘tis the damn season) ♡ ✧
nick fowler
never ending story (mini series) ☽
mickey henry
#sebastian stan drabble#sebastian stan/y/n#sebastian stan/reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes angst#carter baizen x reader#carter baizen x you#frank endings beginnings#nick fowler mini series#nick fowler x you#nick fowler fic#nick fowler angst
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Welcome Home - Phantom of the Opera AU
!BEFORE YOU READ!
This fanfiction can be preceded in two ways.
A Wally Darling x Reader
Or
A Howdy Pillar x Reader
This AU (in this fanfiction at least) follows a gender neutral reader. I’m not the greatest with pronouns. Please correct me on any mistakes.
Two outfit choices will be given, one with a more feminine look, and one with a masculine look. You may also make an in between mismash, or even leave it to your imagination!
A Spotify playlist will be linked eventually to this fanfiction, so if you wanna listen to the music I feel fits this story, go ahead!
A master post will be pinned later on with all chapters.
Part 1/?
You stood on the stage with the patched up curtains in front of you. You tugged on the fabric of your pants/ skirt. Sally had heard your voice a few days before and insisted you put on a show with her, with you as the main focus as a great introduction to the others. Looking at her from center stage, she smiles and begins to pull in the mechanism that makes the curtain push to the side.
You squint as the sudden change of lighting surprised you. ‘Where in the world did a child get professional lighting?’ You wondered as the backing track began to play.
You close your eyes and blocked out the thought of the few people in the audience. Although you knew only Julie, Frank, Eddie, Barnaby, Poppy, and Howdy were in the audience, you still couldn’t shake off your strange fear of the stage.
As you began to sing, you finally warmed up to the audience and opened you eyes, even using your arms to express more. You scanned the audience and smiled. Everyone seemed to enjoy your voice, but Howdy was the most entranced, you weren’t sure why, but he seemed to give his full attention to you.
As the track began to fade, you slowed down your tempo and finally ended the final note. The curtain closed as you turned away.
You walked to Sally and she engulfed you in a hug.
“THAT WAS AMAZING!” She exclaimed, squeezing you tighter.
You smile softly, “It was?”
“YES! Before you know it, you’ll be as big of a star as me!” She let you out of the hug, and pushed you away.
“Now, go out that door and talk to your audience!” She demanded.
You followed her orders and stepped outside, the neighbors were already waiting for you.
“Oh neighbor, that was amazing! You have to give me some lessons sometime!” Julie said, smiling wide. She took your hands and squeezed them.
Eddie approached you next, Frank by his side, arms linked.
“You’re a pretty good singer for a rookie, neighbor.” Frank said jokingly.
“Oh Frank, did you even see the same performance? They’re more than great! That’s professional level!” Eddie replied, correcting Frank.
Frank rolled his eyes playfully at Eddie, “Of course you know professional, you musical geek.”
“Hey! You love me for it Frank!” Eddie bickered, walking away with Frank.
“Hi Miss. Poppy!” You said, greeting her.
“Oh Y/n, that was some of the best singing of heard in a while, your voice is that of an angels!” She gushed. She looked behind her to see a flustered looking Howdy, who seemed to be thinking of something. She turned back around and smiled.
“Oh, Miss Poppy, you’re too kind.”
“Dearie, I’d love to stay and chat, but Barnaby and I have some things to attend to.” She tugged on Barnaby to pull him away, but as she did, you could hear him yell, “GREAT SINGING Y/N!” As his voice faded into the distance.
You watched as the went away, and now it was just you and Howdy.
You heard the creak of an opening door, and turned to see Sally holding it open. You started to go towards the steps to talk to her, but heard Howdy clearing his throat.
“Y/n…?”
“Hmm?”
“When I was closing the shop to come over here, I noticed some flowers and they kinda reminded me of you, and… I wanted to give them to you.” He muttered as he pulled them out from behind his back. The flowers were a mix of blue, yellow, orange, and red. They were perfect
“Oh Howdy, they’re beautiful!” You said, timidly lifting them out of his arms.
“You’re beautiful too.” He muttered, but not loud enough to hear.
You hugged the flowers in one arm and grabbed one of his hands.
“Howdy, you’re hiding something from me.”
“What? What do you mean?” He swallowed nervously.
“Howdy, you can tell me anything, something’s bothering you. I can tell.”
He shook off your hand.
“I have to go open the shop, I’ll talk later.”
And sure enough, he just left you standing alone.
————————————————————
You walked the familiar road to your house, passing by the house in the center.
It was so run down and old, you couldn’t even tell what the exterior would’ve looked like from its early years. The windows were so caked with dust, the interior was left simply to the imagination.
When you first moved, some neighbors told you to avoid the house, but you were drawn to it as you passed. Was it curiosity?
You looked around, a few people were present outside, and you didn’t want to do something you could get in trouble for… so you decided you were gonna wait until midnight.
#wally darling#wally darling x reader#welcome home#welcome home wally#welcome home puppet show#howdy neighbor#howdy x reader#welcome home howdy#howdy pillar#welcome home Phantom of the opera AU#wally darling au#wally darling phantom of the opera AU
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The Good Die Young
Masterlist
Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+. Pairings: Jake Seresin × f!reader. Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bare in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this.
December 1943
Dearest Jake,
I can’t believe it has been four months since you left us. It feels like only yesterday that you were here, safe in my arms. I can’t even begin to imagine what you are going through. I hear reports on the news and from the papers that things are bad but I believe no man can sum up what it is like if he had not been in the war himself. I have seen the brotherhood you have formed first-hand and the love that you share for each other. I only hope your love for each other is enough to get you through what is to come.
The papers bring the never-ending news of the war. I am kept busy with new articles. The latest being the death toll. With each name and age I write down my heart breaks a little more. I fear that most of them are no more than boys - just children really. Not even old enough to buy alcohol and yet they are old enough to fight for a war they do not understand. I fear that this war is far from over, I wish I could bring better news on that front.
We are both doing well here though. My tiny bump has started to show and Fern keeps making fun that soon my clothes will not fit me but I do not mind. This little one is a part of you that I carry with me always and will continue to do so until you return to me and we can be a family at last.
I hope you can celebrate Christmas wherever you are. I don’t have many plans for Christmas, it doesn’t seem right celebrating it when you are stuck in some foxhole or on a ship god knows where.
My heart aches for you, my love. I pray each night for your safe return.
Yours always
Y/n
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To my dearest Y/n,
You do not know how much relief I felt to receive your letter. Your words are my light in these dark times.
Christmas here on the ship is not the same as at home. We had a hearty Christmas dinner and sang some carols but I’d much rather have been with you than stuck here. As you can imagine, the company of George and Frank for Christmas Day doesn’t compare to you.
Edward drew me a picture of you for Christmas. The picture you sent me ended up getting coffee split on it by Frank one morning and was ruined. He’s drawn you almost from memory. I never realised how good of an artist he was but his talents are wasted here. Now I can cherish a drawing of you, close to my heart as always.
I hope you're safe this Christmas. I hope you can enjoy it with your friends and if I don’t get to write to you again, I hope you have a good new year.
I miss you Y/n. I miss you every day but just know that you are what gets me through each day, the thought of you and our child is all I need to help me through.
Yours always
Jake
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
New Britain - December 1943
Jake flinched, smacking his neck as he killed another mosquito. “Fucking things!” He protested as George laughed at him, the cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth.
“What ‘ave you got to laugh about Lover Boy? Still writing letters to Florence?” Jake craned his neck to see the letter but George quickly stuffed it into his pocket, along with the drawing of Florence that Edward had done for Christmas. “None of your damn business, Cowboy.”
It turned out that Edwards' gift to everyone had been a drawing. Most of them were of the girls they loved but for Johnny, Edward had drawn his spaniel, Daphne. Johnny was over the moon and was no longer bothered by the others' teasing when it came to Daphne. ‘You’ll see what I mean when you meet her boys. She’s quite the catch.’
The pair laughed as George stood to help Jake tie the last rope for their canopy around the tree, it wasn’t much but at least it would keep the worst of the rain off them. The hope of keeping dry in the jungle was limited and once the rain began, the heavens opened and it poured for hours. Most nights Jake barely slept, too busy watching the rain fall and listening to the noise of the forest to sleep.
“What are you reprobates doing?” Frank boomed, jokingly stalking over to his fellow Marines. “You think it’s funny so you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the pair, a new cigarette balanced behind his ear ‘For later’ he always said but it would often fall out and be lost somewhere along the way.
Jake only laughed, “Don’t worry Sarge, you're still number one.” Frank laughed, smacking Jake on the back heartily.
“Congratulations Cowboy, looks like the Marine Corps did make something out of you after all.”
Jake shook his head. He’d recently been promoted to Staff Sergeant and it had brought with it a never-ending string of teasing comments from his friends, all meant in the usual joking fashion.
“How’s that girl of yours doing?” Frank asked smugly. He’d been the first to find out Y/n was pregnant and after the initial congratulations he followed with a never ending line of ‘Bun in the Oven’ jokes.
“Should have put a ring on her first, Cowboy.” Really though Frank was happy for him, the thought of a baby filled the group with hope for the future.
“Well I’m sorry to break up the party fellas but just because you're on machine guns doesn’t mean you're missing out on the patrol. Mortar squads are going too so I want you two with Shorty and Mary.”
“You got it, Harvard,” Jake swung his Springfield over his shoulder, lending George a hand and pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go catch us some Japs.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain trickled down through the canopy, soaking the thin, mesh blanket that covered the lower half of Jake’s body. He groaned, rolling onto his side and watching as a single stream of water dripped into the large, muddy swell that surrounded the tent. The murky water reflected the moon, rippling it across the puddle with each gust of wind. Jake watched it sadly, wondering whether Y/n were looking at the same moon. He often wondered what she was doing, whether she would be eating breakfast or going to work or out with her friends. His life here felt so distant from the life he had with her.
“JAPS! THEIR COMING!” It always amazes Jake what came after those three words. Men dashed to their posts half awake, half-dressed and unable to form a coherent sentence but could fire off a round of mortars like it was nothing. Jake grabbed the barrel of the Browning Machine Gun whilst George posited the baseplate along the tree line. Neither of them cared how wet they were getting now, their helmets creating a shield against the worst of the rain but still allowed it to run over the rim and straight down their backs, soaking down into their trousers.
“MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!” Jake and George sat in complete silence, their eyes scanning the tree line at the edge of the clearing. Jake could hear his heart beating loudly in his ear, the rhythmic thudding keeping in time with his breathing.
“THEIR HERE!” And with that, the bullets start flying. Jake let out a cry as he squeezed the trigger, allowing the short burst of ammunition to fly into the darkness, an orange glow lighting the treeline as the bullets were fed through the gun. Between the shouts of other Marines, mortar pounding the earth and the gunfire Jake could hear his heartbeat increasing in time with the Browning's fire.
The fight was almost over before it began. “CEASE FIRE!” Jake’s ears were ringing, he rested his head against George’s shoulder who hugged him back. He never realised the bond he’d have between him and his fellow machine gunner but he could imagine being here without him. He pulled out his padded glove, lifting the now burning hot barrel of the machine gun from the plate. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if they’d need a replacement barrel for it soon, the number of rounds it had fired for them over time was impressive if not hellish at the same time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Y/n,
I am afraid to say we lost Johnny last week. There was an attack in the middle of the night. I don’t know how it happened but I found him the next morning when we were clearing the bodies. I’ve never lost one of my friends before but to see him so lifeless, so deathly pale. Y/n I don’t know how any of us are going to make it out alive.
The group hasn’t been the same since. Frank is in a foul mood, he blames himself I think but he doesn’t want to admit that. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. The damn Japs will have hell to pay the next time How Company gets near them.
He had the picture of Daphne clasped in his fingers. I’ve kept it. I wasn’t able to throw it away so I sent it with this letter. I hope you will keep it safe for me.
We’ve left New Britain now. I don’t know where we are going but our group is stretched thin. We look worse each day and I don’t know how much more of this we can stand to take.
George is doing alright. He and I keep to ourselves mostly. He writes to Florence often and she writes back. He’s officially invited us to his wedding back in the States when the war is over. I don’t know where you want to live after the war but maybe we could visit my hometown while we are there. I know my Ma would love to meet you, she’s heard all about you (only good things I promise)
I miss you Y/n. I’ll miss you until you're in my arms again.
Yours always
Jake
Taglist: @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @bcon24 @books-are-escapes @dakotakazansky @memeorydotcom @mads-nixon @iceman-kazansky
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4, 5, 10, 13, 14, 15 for the fanfic ask game 💕
4.How do you channel characters' voices and personalities?
A lot of self reflection. Lol
Writing fanfiction is a double edge sword for this one. The voices and personalities are right there. They already have a voice and personality. It makes it really easy.
But at the same time, as a fanfic writer, you have a lot of liberties with that. You get a lot of writers that do not make the characters anything like they are in canon and depending on the writing, it works. Particularly in AUs. Especially in non canon ships.
Because, lets be frank, in canon Kakashi wouldn't touch Sakura with a ten foot pole like that. But that's also not why we're here.
I do not always write my characters the way the initially were portrayed, but I do my best to at least stay within bubble of realism. Lots of 'What would Kakashi do?' or 'Would Sakura really do that?' This usually comes in the editing process. I would advise you to that while writing.
Don't want to get into the revising of a long fic and realize that what you've written does not match Kakashi's personality at all and have to rewrite motivations. *cries in fanfic*
5. What techniques do you use to create believable dialogue?
Similar to above, a lot of 'what would Kakashi say' or 'What would Sakura say'
I've been writing a lot more Gai recently and creating believable dialogue with him has been challenging, but in a fun way. He's very boisterous and very animated and has a very interesting manner of speaking at times. Finding the right words is important.
TLDR: just being mindful of the character's head I'm in.
Also! when I write dialogue, I try my best to have them not just standing in the ether talking to one another with their hands at their sides. No one talks like that. I try to stay away from just saying 'he said/she said' and say 'he rubs the back of his neck' or 'she presses her lips together and looks away' or if they are walking and talking have them looking around and noticing the stuff around them (even if it is the person next to them.) Using the characters quirks and mannerisms helps build out a talky-talky scene.
10.What's your favorite part about the fic writing process?
Coming up with the idea and the brain storming in my head. The day dreaming. Then writing, which is the second worst part. Then revising is the bane of my existence.
13.What's the most challenging aspect of writing fanfiction for you?
Besides the fact I tend to switch tenses? Which is more of a writing thing than fanfic thing...
it's characterization. Hands down. I would like to create a piece of work where there is no time where the person pauses and goes 'that character wouldn't do/say that' (unless it's, you know, a driving force behind the story. Like that's the plot or the relationship).
I want Kakashi to be Kakashi. I want Sakura to be Sakura. For better or worse. Flaws and all. Because playing with flaws is very fun.
14.How do you go about researching details or canon information?
Naruto Wiki. It's hard because it's been a hot minute since I've read Naruto and to recall what is canon and what is filler is a bit mind reeling.
I say that and recognize I do pick and choose what I pull from filler. Like Friend-Killer Kakashi.
15.Do you plan your fics or prefer to let the story unfold as you write?
I do both. Usually my first write through is half a story and half outline. The second go through is where I expand on ideas and then start narrowing things down. Then some ideas take hold and I run with it. That's one of the nice things about waiting until you're done writing the whole thing before you post because you can find a great idea at the end of a piece and go back and add layers in at the beginning and no one is the wiser.
Sorry this is really wordy and long, hopefully I answered your questions!
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Skin
Oliver Thredson x OC
Warnings: This is an Oliver Thredson fanfiction. Meaning, virtually anything could be expected. Mentions of trauma, abuse, neglect, sexual abuse, murder, smut, gore, breathplay, knifeplay, etc. 18+
Chapter 1
“Daddy?”
The wide-eyed girl takes a timid step into the shadowed hallway, her bare feet making contact with the hardwood floor, sending shivers throughout her entire body.
A resounding thud had carried itself through the otherwise voiceless house, and she had gotten out of bed to inspect the source. It was not the jarring sound which had concerned her, as she was accustomed to such things, but it was the silence which followed.
“Daddy?”
The floorboards creak beneath her frigid feet as she continues down the hall, eyeing the doorway leading to the kitchen.
With her next step, her foot kicks an empty can across the floor, causing a loud clatter to reverberate off of the walls. She jumps back, awaiting a reaction, but the house falls silent once again.
Slowly entering the dimly lit kitchen, her eyes fall upon her father, sitting slumped in the foldout kitchen chair, his face down on the surface of the table.
His once blue jeans are covered in mud and grass stains, the soles of his boots are worn down to nothing, and the posture of his stocky form signifies defeat.
“Daddy?”
He seems to stop breathing for a moment, and she follows his lead, as his head rises from the table, staring straight forward for a few long moments, before slowly turning to face her.
His eyes are devoid of emotion, yet his mouth forms a close-mouthed smile as he stands and lurks toward the girl.
__
Rosalie’s eyes fly awake, adjusting to the darkness around her. Her face remains stoic, yet her body shakes involuntarily, and her heart feels as if it may leap from her chest.
The anguished shrieks resounding from the near and many dark corners of Briarcliff do nothing to ease her racing mind.
“36,” She whispers to herself. She had made certain to keep track of each day that passed by while she was trapped in this place. She worried that if she were to lose track of time, then she would lose track of herself. “Today is day thirty-six. It is November of 1964. You are in Briarcliff. Your name is Rosalie Amor.”
Rosalie had managed to steer clear of the harsh hand of the staff, keeping quiet, only speaking when spoken to. While at times, in order to keep her temper in check, she did have to bite her tongue so hard that it bled, she believed this to be much preferred to the abuse that she had seen patients subjected to.
Abruptly, the door to her room, or rather cell, is unlocked and swung open with careless force, and she is met with the unforgiving gaze of Sister Jude.
“Common room. Let’s go.”
__
“Dominique -nique -nique s’en allait tout simplement”
Though Rosalie had only been shown the horrors of Briarcliff for little more than a month, she was beginning to believe that this repetitive song playing on a never-ending loop would be the inconsequential thing which finally drives her over the edge.
Kit Walker, Bloodyface, had arrived only a few days prior, and Rosalie had been studying him from afar, having nothing better to do with her free time than to feed her curiosities. That and reading when she could get her hands on a book, due to Frank’s kindness toward her.
Though her mind may wonder, Rosalie made certain to keep to herself, as she had learned that she sees far more watching from afar, remaining nothing more than a fly on the wall.
Kit Walker was not only a supposed woman killer, but he was a man, and that fact alone told Rosalie that she should be weary of him. However, she couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t seem like an inherently violent person.
While Rosalie was not naive enough to believe that what he chooses to present to the world is his true self, she couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t give her the slightest of uneasy feelings, no more than any other man does at least. His smile was kind and his eyes showed depth. His actions, especially with the girl that Rosalie had come to know as Grace, were gentle. Perhaps he’s simply an amazing actor.
Or, maybe, he truly was psychotic and only believed himself to be innocent.
Little did Rosalie know that, while she was studying Kit, someone else had been studying her from their own corner of the common room.
__
Thredson’s POV
She is radiant.
The way her dark hair flows past her delicate shoulders. The manner in which she sits, solitary and content, lost in thought as her eyes slowly analyze those around her, particularly Kit Walker.
Interesting. I light a fresh cigarette at this thought, taking a long draw before returning my gaze to her.
Her porcelain, freckled, skin glowing under the vibrant sunlight pouring in through the common room windows.
It looks so soft.
Untouched by the, from what I have witnessed, barbaric nature of Briarcliff. Everything about her is simply…
Warm.
I need to learn more.
Silently excusing myself from the common room and making my way up the main staircase, I find myself at the door of Sister Jude’s office.
Knocking a few times, I wait for a response, but am met with silence from the other side.
Cautiously checking my surroundings, I make my way inside, gently shutting the door behind me and making my way to the single file cabinet which sits adjacent to her desk.
Checking one of the drawers, I find it unlocked.
Perhaps Sister Jude isn’t as clever as she prides herself on.
Swiftly inspecting through the files, I find her.
“Rosalie Amor”
“Born June of 1939 — Struggles with the sin of lies — Admitted to Briarcliff by her father after she spread false rumors in order to ruin Mr. Amor’s career — cannot seem to discern reality from fiction”
How brilliantly vague.
No clear diagnosis, likely due to the fact that a psychiatrist had never set foot on the premises prior to my arrival.
I will have to get my own answers. After all,
she could be the one.
Removing all traces of my ever being here, I exit the office and, only making it a few strides down the dark hall, turn the corner nearly colliding with Sister Jude.
“Sister.”
She glares, glancing in my wake inquisitively.
“I was meaning to speak with you regarding one of your patients.”
#american horror story#doctor thredson#american horror asylum#american horror story fanfic#ahs#ahs asylum#asylum#oliver thredson#thredson#ahs fanfic#american horror story asylum#kit walker#oliver thredson fanfic#doctor thredson fanfic#james patrick march#ahs asylum fanfic
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The Blue Elephant
Push & Pull - Episode 1
Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC
Series Masterlist | Next Episode
Summary: DBF but dad’s dead.
Your’e going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM.
Disclaimers:
This episode mentions a 14 year old girl having an UNRECIPROCATED crush on a much older man. HE SEES HER AS A CHILD at this point.
I’m Jewish (and plus size) but I do not live in the US, so there might be some differences in the way certain things are done and some inaccuracies. My apologies.
Yes this is self indulgent because I’m feral for this man.
I’m secular and will not be discussing Judaism in length. Will explain some basics though that are mentioned in the story.
Rating: E.18+. MINORS DNI.
Warnings: Teenage crush on a much older man, Mentions of alcoholism, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, insecurities, age gap, violence, sex, food, and probably a bunch of other stuff. This is a little dark.
WC: ~3300
Thank you my lovelies.
@romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid
The blue elephant.
Your phone rang in an ungodly hour, waking you up from a dream you had forgotten as soon as you opened your eyes.
8:15 AM.
Who dares calling you this early on semester break?!
"Hello, am I speaking to Hannah Friedman?"
"Hi, yes, who is this?" You answered, barely recognizing your own voice that was hoarse with sleep.
"Miss Friedman, my name's Michael Katz, I was your father's attorney. I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm calling regarding his will."
Confusion flooded you, and for a moment you were sure the man calling had the wrong number.
Suddenly your heart dropped, the true meaning of his words not fully sinking into your skull just yet.
"Miss Friedman….?" His voice tried to break the long pause.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
"I'm calling regarding your father's will, since he passed away…"
"Shit. Sorry, I just…I didn't know. Shit. When did it happen?"
Your father was dead.
Michael Katz, bless his heart, apologized profusely for the terrible way you had to find out. He proceeded to explain everything in great detail, making sure to schedule a meeting with you as soon as you got into town for his funeral.
He died in the early hours of the previous evening. Cirrhosis complications after years of excessive drinking, that’s what finally did him in, a part of you was surprised he lasted that long.
54 years old at the time of his death, Saul Friedman was a sick man, and not much of a father to begin with. A recovering alcoholic at the best of times, he rarely called or took much interest in your life, despite living 45 minutes away.
When you turned twelve things changed for the better, after bumping into you on a trip to a local supermarket with your mom and her new boyfriend, he suddenly felt an urgent need to get sober, and get to know you better. Your mother agreed, she took less convincing than both of you had anticipated. You ended up visiting more, and staying for a few weeks each summer, the community pool around the corner being your main incentive. Your relationship was never able to fully recover, but you both tried your best.
You’d often say you loved him but sometimes didn’t really like him.
Your mother was his second wife, and after three years of marriage and one kid, they divorced, very much non-amicably, leaving a trail of wreckage behind them.
You were thankful that you were just a toddler, too young to truly understand how deeply they've wounded each other clawing their way out of what your mother described to be the ‘worst three years of my goddamn life’.
You'd often wonder, had she not been jewish, would she be saved from the displeasure of ever marrying him in the first place. Your grandparents must have insisted on him having jewish children, and according to Halacha*, their mom had to be one.
You remembered the last time you visited him, the visit was cut short when you caught him drinking again. “ You don't get to preach me” he lashed out at you,
“You’re a bitch just like your mother”.
You left abruptly after that, not willing to take more of his crap. At that point you were visiting for him, because you felt obligated to do that. That sense of obligation was gone.
He called to apologize a few weeks later, but the dry conversation left much to be desired.
Since then you’ve called and texted occasionally, but you never came to visit again, coming up with various excuses to avoid it.
Now he was dead.
"At least he knew when to die.." you later told your best friend, Grace.
He had the sensibility to pass on right at the beginning of the winter break from college, giving you a good few weeks to deal with it before coming back to school to finish your final year.
You could share your appreciation for your fathers morbid timing with Grace, but there was one thing you couldn't. A thought so shameful you smacked it back to where it came from as soon as it surfaced. You refused to acknowledge it, refused to name it, there would be no talking and no thinking of him. Not right now.
It was about as effective as telling yourself not to think about a blue elephant. You kept playing the game of 'whack a mole' with your brain, and kept losing.
Your father was dead, and it took you mere seconds to realize that you’re going to see him.
Summer 2013
You looked at yourself in the water- damaged mirror, it was crooked and filled with specks of rust, large stains of disilvering ate away at your reflection. The one piece purple bathing suit was wet, clinging to your form, accentuating the awkward lumpiness of your chest and belly under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Your mother picked it out with you, from the sale rack in TJmaxx’s women’s department. That miserable shopping trip almost made you cry. Most of them did. Your adolescent body didn't look right, didn't feel right. It was all too much, too round, too full. You’d follow your much smaller mother around the shops, gradually losing hope with every one you passed, settling eventually on another trip to Starbucks. An iced vanilla latte was sure to cheer you up.
You took solace in your sunglasses, rimmed in a bright red thick frame. The ones you nagged your dad into buying you, they made you feel cool. As cool as you could, that is. A piece of 'coolness' that belonged to you. You placed them on your nose with a slight sense of pride, heading out of the bathrooms.
Your eyes searched for him immediately, finding him lounging on one of the sun-beds. Alone.
Walking as inconspicuously as you could, you sat on the bed next to him, pretending not to notice him. You dove head first into your bag, looking for your phone. don’t look at him, don't look at him. Your thoughts raced, desperately hoping that he would be the one to look at you.
You've known Frank for a couple of years, as your dad's friend and neighbor. He would often join you for Shabbat dinner, bringing a bottle of a non- alcoholic beverage or some fruit. He was younger than your dad but you weren't sure by how much.
You’ve always found him hot, it was impossible not to, with his sharp jaw and boyish smile. He was tall and broad and handsome. You nursed your little secret crush on him, getting excited and giddy every time he came to visit, not daring to mention to anyone that you even found this old man so attractive.
This, however, was the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, and your fourteen year-old self could not handle the sight. You gawked at the grown man uncontrollably, your gaze hidden only by your ‘cool’ sunglasses.
The biceps, the pecs, the broadness of his shoulders and the way his torso tapered into his waist. The dip of his spine, the muscles of his back, the way the droplets of water clung to his skin and made it glisten…it all made your brain short- circuit, melt under the fog of hormones.
“Hey kiddo, I like the sunglasses” He suddenly said, in a tone more cheerful than you’d expected.
“Thanks” you muttered. It took your poor brain a few attempts to signal your mouth to smile. You hated it when he called you ‘kiddo’. You wished it would be ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling' or ‘doll’.
“Can I try them on?” he smirked.
You handed them to him without a word, scrunching your face at the sun. Youv'e learned that it is often better to say nothing rather than risk embarrassing yourself.
Frank put them on, they looked ridiculous of course, the bright red cat-eye was in sharp juxtaposition to his purely masculine features. He chuckled and pulled on the temple tips behind his ear- bouncing them on his large nose, causing you to giggle.
"There she is! Don't be so serious all the time, kiddo. Have some fun" he smiled and handed them back to you, the tip of his finger brushing against yours. Never washing my hands again. You decided, as he got up and headed towards the pool. Your eyes followed him as usual, admiring the broadness of him.
The water was buzzing with activity, and all you could think about is how much you'd love it to be empty. It was far too crowded to swim, but it did allow you to keep staring uninterrupted.
The friendly game of 'throw the ball as hard as you can and cause the biggest splash' was on. Your dad had your cousin Jacob on his shoulders, the scrawny nine year old was doing quite a bit of damage, landing a throw so accurate it splashed violently all across Frank's face.
Frank shook the water off, spotting you in the corner of the pool, and swam right towards you. "Come on Hannah banana, I need your help, let's get em' " he smiled widely, and before you had a chance to respond he dove underneath you.
The gravity beneath you shifted as he began lifting you up from the water. You yelped loudly and grabbed tightly at the head that popped up between your legs, trying to steady yourself.
You haven't done this since you were seven, when you were light enough to be held on anyone's shoulders, but Frank lifted you up effortlessly, like you weighed nothing, like it was no trouble at all.
Your thighs squeezed against his neck and shoulders. The ball somehow landed in your hands but all you could think about were franks palms, gripping your legs tightly, keeping you firmly on him. A heady mixture of emotions stirred in your belly. The fear of falling into the pool, mixed with the exhilaration of Frank's hands on your thighs. You could see his large fingers pressing into your flesh, and it was making your head spin.
You threw the ball as hard as you could, landing a pretty decent splash on your aunt's face. She laughingly demanded her son 'avenge her'. A few more splashes and Jacob came face to face with you, attempting to push you off Frank's shoulders. The poor kid clearly underestimated your determination, and promptly landed in the water, ass first. Frank cheered you on, patting his large palm on your leg before letting you fall into the pool with a little nudge. You emerged from the water laughing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins so potent you could not stop, giggling almost uncontrollably as it sizzled through you.
"Yeah! We win! suck it!" Frank's arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your body reciprocated before your mind had a chance to catch up, squishing your cheek against his chest. It was over before you even realized. A quick innocent congratulatory hug, that pressed you against his solid frame that towered over you, sending your already overstimulated brain into a tailspin.
*******
You remembered that day vividly, in detail, every part of your visit to the pool was etched into your mind. It was like a switch flipped, or a wire was plugged in, sometimes you likened it to a detonation of a bomb.
It confused you at first, you were flooded with something so potent that it took you a while to recognize what that was. The tingling sensation between your thighs was familiar, but it was never this intense.
The deep shameful truth was that from that day forward, Frank Castle was responsible for the vast majority of your orgasms, without touching you once.
It horrified you at first, especially when you learned that he was 19 years older than you. You were disgusted with yourself, with the thoughts that kept getting increasingly more explicit as you aged.
It didn’t matter if you were touching yourself or having sex with someone else. It didn’t matter how it started, it would almost always end with him. His voice, his hands, his face, thinking about him was the sure fire way of making yourself cum.
You hated yourself for thinking about him right now, on the way to your fathers fucking funeral. It was like a pavlovian response you could not shake. You were equal parts hoping you'd see him and dreading the thought of facing him. It’s been three years since you saw him last, and something changed that day.
Hanukkah 2019
The snow was piling outside, a wintery scene in complete contrast to the heat in your dad's kitchen. You were with your aunt Deborah, Jacob’s mom. She always loved it when you came to visit, she loved it especially when she got to spend time cooking with you. Being a boy-mom, they never took interest in her cooking. You however loved it, your mother was never much of a cook and this was your chance to learn from a true expert. You were making Sufganiyot* for Hanukkah. The jewish bakery made them well, but Aunt Deborah’s were divine. Something about adding buttermilk to the dough.
When Frank came that day it wasn’t planned. “Deb, are you making the jewish doughnuts again? I can smell it all the way across my yard, you’re killing me” his voice boomed as he entered the house.
Your heart skipped. You were in your apron, covered in flour, and very much unprepared to see the man you harbored a weird sexual obsession towards.
“Come in Frank, they’re still hot” Deborah replied as she met him at the door, and Frank's heavy boots marched straight to the kitchen.
“Oh, hey there Hannah banana” he greeted you fondly, giving you a small wave.
20 years old, and still "Hannah banana"...
“Hey Frank” you waved back, not taking your eyes off the man.
He plucked a fresh warm Sufgania off the tray, covered in powdered sugar, with a little dollop of red jam on top. “Mmmm come here baby” he growled and stuffed his face into the soft dough, taking a huge bite, muttering “oh my god” and rolling his eyes back in pleasure.
This man will be the death of you.
Frank chewed in delight as you tried not to laugh at him, his nose was covered in powdered sugar and jam. He looked back at you, fully aware of the dire situation of his face. “What? What?? I got something on my face?” he smirked, prompting you to giggle.
“Come here Kiddo, you have to taste this”.
He began to slowly advance towards you, before fully chasing you around the kitchen with the Sufgania in hand. You squealed, ‘trying’ to get away from him and ‘failing’. When he finally caught you and cornered you against the wall, he stuffed the remaining dough in your face. You laughed hysterically while attempting to clean your face from the sugar and jam, wiping a small drop from the corner of your mouth with your thumb, and sucking the finger, looking up at Frank through your lashes. Your eyes met at that exact moment, and for a beat you both got quiet. Too quiet.
His laughter faded into a polite smile almost instantly, as he backed off and walked out of the kitchen.
He never touched you again after that day. He was not even around for the rest of your visit. You saw him once more, just when you were leaving back to college. Instead of the usual goodbye hug he settled for a wave and a “Bye kiddo”, shortly disappearing back into the house.
Maybe he saw something in your eyes, something inappropriate that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Maybe that’s when he realized that every time he touched you was like pouring gasoline into a raging fire. Maybe things could have been different, if only you were older, thinner, sexier…not just Saul’s chubby awkward kid.
It only took a second, one fucking second for Frank to notice what was right in front of him this whole goddamn time.
One look into your soft eyes, One flick of pink tongue on your finger, and it was all clear. The thought traveled so fast from his cock to his brain he barely stopped it in time, running out of that kitchen as fast as humanly possible.
You were just a kid, Saul’s kid.
It was obviously sick to think about you in any other capacity.
He remembered the time you all went ice skating, how he held your little hand when you kept stumbling and falling. The time when he took you for your first unofficial driving lesson just before you turned 16, in the empty supermarket parking lot. The time when you called him looking for your dad, he told you he’s probably asleep, and you began crying because you knew what that meant.
Were you looking at him like that the entire time?
You had no fucking business looking at him like that.
How dare you look at him like that.
*******
You had just a few hours to get ready and make the trip back into your hometown for the funeral the following morning. Knowing how jewish funerals worked you weren't surprised, most are buried within 48 hours of passing.
Just a 3 hour trip from college, it felt like a different planet. You looked out of the frosted car window as Deborah was driving you both to her house, where the shiva* would be held. The snow fell softly and the storefronts decorated for Christmas gave your small town a charming cozy atmosphere. You could almost forget where you were headed.
Beth Moses cemetery was eerily foggy, the two dozen people who had gathered for your father’s funeral were murmuring almost silently to each other.
“You shouldn’t have worn that. And take that lipstick off, this is not a party.” your mother whispered as loudly as she possibly could, not taking into consideration that her voice carried. “Cover yourself up, here take my scarf” , you let her drape the back scarf over you, covering the dark gray sweater dress you were wearing under your coat, the one she deemed inappropriate because it showed some cleavage and clung to your belly a little too much for her liking.
“Well, thanks for the kriah* I won’t be wearing this again after this week, mother” you replied sarcastically. Even though sarcasm never seemed to work on that woman, she was immune to your snide comments, nothing could penetrate the thick layer of self righteousness she wore like her favorite garment the whole fucking time.
“Hey Han”
Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of the familiar deep voice. He appeared before you almost instantly, mercifully tearing your attention from your mother and her constant disapproval.
He leaned in for a polite hug, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses, spicy and crisp. He looked the same, just like you remembered and envisioned thousands of times. Same intense dark eyes, same strong jaw, same boxer's nose that you adored.
“How have you been?” he asked, his voice quiet and grave.
“Hey Frank, I’m ok, yeah..” you replied, robotically, still a little shocked to see him again.
"Jackie…" he acknowledged your mother with a nod, before proceeding to greet other members of the family.
The small crowd surrounded the newly dug grave, muttering “amen” with the rabbi as he read the Kadish*. The vapor from their mouths like a silent choir in the cold.
Sunshine broke briefly through the clouds as Saul Friedman’s casket was lowered into the earth. There was something pathetic about how small it looked, and your heart wrenched at the sight. Debora’s silent tears prompted your own but you sniffled, looking up, not allowing them to escape.
“Shalom aba” you mumbled as you placed a small stone on the mound of soil that now covered him…
FIN.
Series Masterlist | Next Episode
Halacha - Jewish scripture. According to the rules in order for a person to be considered Jewish their mother needs to be Jewish. (according to Orthodox Judaism)
Shiva - “Seven” - a period of seven days after the funeral when the family mourns the death. People often come to visit several times during the shiva.
Kriah - “Tearing” - When a next of kin dies, the nuclear family members (parents, children, siblings) have their garments torn, to symbolize mourning. The garment is discarded after the shiva.
Sufganiyot - (Singular: Sufganya) - Jewish doughnuts, served on Hanukkah. Traditionally filled with jam and topped with powdered sugar.
Kaddish - A prayer said during the jewish funeral.
Shalom Aba - “Goodbye dad”
Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.
If you'd like to be tagged in this series or in general please let me know.
#frank castle#frank castle x female reader#frank castle angst#jon bernthal#jewish representation#jewish reader#x plus size reader#original character
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Now I’m in the last of us
A young woman wakes up in the last of us not knowing what will happen after she only watched two episodes. How will she survive the apocalypse? And will she find Joel and Elli?
AU of the last of us.
read on wattpad
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Chapter 1.
When I got home from a full day of work, I cooked myself a nice plate of pasta having the recipes from one of the TikTok videos I watched the day before. After that doing my full-face routine so that it wouldn't matter if I would make it to bed or just crash on the couch as it happened more often than I would like to admit.
I was now pretty invested in the series even though I still didn't know what was happening. But I wanted to know what was happening. At the end of the second episode, I was pretty tired but still wanted to know how it would go on. Letting the auto-play let run through so that the next episode would start. Ellie and Joel were just making their way to frank and bills house when I noticed my eyes getting heavier and heavier.
When I woke up, I noticed immediately that something wasn't right. The first thing I noticed was the smell in my apartment. I turned on my couch and had to sneeze. When my eyes opened everything was full of dust. The paint peels off the walls and my bowels with my snacks smelled awful. I still had my skims on and was clean like the day before but everything else around me looked like it wasn't touched in decades. It was weird and I was thinking that this must be a dream, or I was turning crazy.
Maybe I did work too much? Or my brain was just exhausted? I don't know but whatever I just have to find out what's happening. I walk over to my window looking out to the street where it also looked like in the series. What the hell? It can't be possible that I was actually transported into the series like it often happens in fanfiction where a crazy person writes that some random person is transported into their favorite series just to fall in love with their favorite character.
I mean, first of all, I don't know what's happening in that series and second of all I don't have a favorite character. So please someone explain to me what's happening.
But there's no one here. Not a single person is in that got dam building. I tried looking for my neighbors but every apartment on my floor was abandoned.
My own apartment still looked the same as it did only hours before only full of dust and like it wasn't touched in the last 20 years. I still had all my gadgets like my MacBook my iPhone and all the other stuff it just didn't work anymore. The weirdest thing is that the apartments of my neighbors look like from the beginning of the 2000s. which is especially weird because I myself am only 23 so seeing things that I grew up with is super strange.
I am sitting on my bed holding my legs to my chest crying not knowing what the hell I am supposed to do. The whole day just went over with me sitting on my bed looking out of the window now and then. When evening came, I just laid there till sleep or exhaustion came I'm not sure which it was. I only hoped that my mind was playing games with me, and I would wake up again and everything would be the same as it was before.
When I woke up again this new reality was still around me. I screamed. Ugly tears were running down my face. It felt like I didn't even go to sleep. I didn't drink or eaten anything the day before and the crying most likely didn't help my condition. I went to the kitchen hoping that I had something to eat. Right at that moment I deeply regretted not buying any cans of food like I did when I was a student but no. Two days before I got to this new reality being healthy and doing sports being a fucking stick was the goal not just for me but for a lot of women so yes, I tried to eat as little as possible so that I wouldn't have so much fat on me. I'm not skinny per se but also wouldn't say I'm thick or anything just your normal body type but fortunate enough to have good genes so I was well proportioned. But yes, society still made me try to get skinnier and skinnier. But I often failed. I'm one of the people that wouldn't easily lose pounds but if I only breath around a cake I would gain a few pounds. Thinking about that now seems super ridiculous.
If I really am in the last of us that is. I still haven't seen one of the zombies or whatever they are called. The most I know about them is from the two episodes I watched and the walking dead. But what I could gather from the few episodes is that those two fandoms are completely different and that the zombies from the last of us are way worse and much more dangerous. Well, congratulations to me, I guess.
I found one can of beans being grateful that I still had something. After eating that I tried the sink I was astound that it actually still worked so I had a glass of water to hydrate myself. Afterwards I tried gathering things so that I would even have a chance of survival. Deciding that I couldn't stay here in my apartment forever.
I found out that apparently one of my neighbors was preparing for the end of the world they had a bag and all the things that you would need to survive this hell.
I never thought that after covid I would actually have to be prepared for the end of the world only thinking that the end was quarantine which didn't prepare me for things like that. In quarantine being lonely was the only thing that was hard. But I have to say even then I didn't feel as lonely as I do now. Back then there were still people around me now there was no one.
I gathered all that I could find having a few rations of food for the trip. Even though I still didn't know where to go but I thought it would probably be safer outside of the city than not being able to see what was lurking around the next corner. I also found a knife, a backpack, a lighter which was almost empty, and a gun which I found behind the back wall of a closet. I never in my life used a gun but every guy in apocalypse movies or series had one so I would probably have to use one too. But for now, I didn't actually want to use it, being that it is more likely that I would harm myself rather than the person or zombie I would try to use it on. Maybe I could use it as a threat to people if it ever came to this situation. They wouldn't have to know that I don't know how to use it. Now the only difficulty would be to actually get out of the city. Searching my closet for some clothing that I could use was also a thing. I decided to do some good old fashion layering. Putting on a black sports bra from VS, a black cropped t-shirt from Chanel, an oversized hoodie from harry styles merch, some black cargo pants from Lv, my black buffaloes and I still had my gold jewelry on that I got from my grandma. I know that these clothes might not be the best for the end of the world, but they were the only things I had. After I started working and actually working my way up the job ladder, I had enough money being able to buy designer clothing. Which as you can tell I really did.
Next, I got two water bottles for the way. I started my descent from my apartment. I lived on the 10th floor. I tried to be as quiet as I could be, not knowing what will wait for me when I'm outside. Getting to the ground floor I open the double doors that just a few days ago were always opened by the friendly portier Freddy. He was a lovely older man that was like a grandfather always asking how I was and if I need anything and actually meaning it which made it easy for me to really love him in a paternal way. But now he wasn't here anymore, and I made my way outside. I walked down the street making my way outside of the city. I was fascinated by the different plants that were able to make their way through the tarmac. Maybe that wasn't the most intelligent way though it was beautiful I quickly realized that I really had to watch where I'm going. Just a few centimeters before me there was this trail of cordyceps like I had seen in the series where Joel tolled Ellie to watch out it also was already dead, but it also could have been still alive.
When I turned onto the last street that would lead me to the outskirts of the city, I saw the first person since I got to this god-forsaken reality. I ran to this person; I didn't think in that moment just being happy to see another person but as I made my way nearer and nearer, I realized that this human wasn't human at all. They turned in my direction making me able to see into their face. I got slower and slower till I finally came to a stop. I didn't know what I should do now, but they came nearer and nearer and at a speed that I never would have thought a zombie could move. I tried to get my knife out of my pocket at the side of my pants really panicking now that I wasn't able to do it as fast as I would like to. I had the knife in my hand, but it was still protected which was good because I didn't know how to use it but at this moment, I just wanted to use it as fast as possible. The zombie jumped onto me making me lose the knife on the ground while the both of us also fell. I was able to keep their face far away from my body while also searching with the other hand for the knife. My fingertips were able to make contact with the knife, but I wasn't really able to get to it. The zombie was getting more aggressive when I finally got the knife in my hand. Trying to gather all of my strength I punched the knife through the skull of the zombie using full force. Luckily it stopped moving but now the full weight was laying on me. Making my way from out below the zombie I was glad that my survival instincts kicked in. I didn't really get how I survived this, but I was glad that I was now still breathing even if it was very heavy.
After a break trying to catch my breath again, I walked on and found a brick on the side of the road. After finding some fuel and short-circuiting it (I once saw a video on TikTok on how to do this) I was able to make my way much quicker through the city and over to the suburbs of Lincoln, Massachusetts.
#joel and ellie#joel miller#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#fanfiction#joel x reader#joel x you#joel x y/n#the last of us au#tlou au#zombie apocolypse au#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#fireflies#hbo max#Joel#ellie#ynstories#x yn#bella ramsey#post apocalypse#clicker
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Haha this is horrible
This era mikey ^
Mikey way × reader
First fanfiction after my deleted ones lol
he/him reader, slightly? enemies to lovers, Ray Toro's younger brother and their newest guitarist
summary: You and Mikey hate each other but it changes ig
you never knew why you hated him, he didn't know why he hated you, it just… happened?
Ever since you were young you looked up to Ray, despite being his taller, younger brother, he was so interested in music, so you became indulged in the subject too, learning guitar. It took a while, but you became a pretty good guitarist. As you and Ray grew older, you found friends and he found friends, both of your groups being majorly interested in music.
Gerard sipped on his drink and quickly sat up, hey Ray, you have a brother right?' Ray looked at him, concerned, and nodded slowly 'And he can play guitar?'
‘Where are you going with this?' Ray crossed his arms. Frank swung on his seat impatiently with his legs crossed.
‘Well I kinda want some more guitar for the background because I think it’d sound good and we’d need him urgently because we have our first show in 2 months, y/n will need practice and, like 800 people are coming!’
Ray thought for a second and nodded ‘yeah, I’m sure he’ll be willing to take up the offer’
Mikey looked up suddenly ‘WHAT, WE CAN’T JUST-‘ Gerard cut him off as Ray went up from the basement to see y/n. ‘Mikey c’mon I want another guitarist for the band! It’s too late anyway, y/n will be our new guitarist and you can’t do anything to stop that from happening!’
You came down with Ray happily, towering above all of them as frank looked up in awe at his short height of 4’8 (I’m pretty sure that was his height st the start of the band but idk, he was like 4’9 at the time of filming helena) Mikey rolled his eyes and stood up as everyone else did to begin practice.
1 month went by and you were all eating lunch together, in silence. ‘So um, how are you all?’ Ray asked, trying to break the silence. ‘Shit’ you grumbled, ‘my head hurts, because I hit the door frame with my head because I forgot to duck’ you pouted. Mikey blushed, he thought the face you did was really cute but would never admit it in a million years. Frank laughed and Gerard giggled a bit. ‘Idiot’ Mikey rolled his eyes. ‘Oh shut up’ you did a grumpy, sassy teenager face at him (I hope you understand what I mean 😭) it went silent again and you caught Mikey looking at you so you stuck out your tongue at him.
‘Bitch’ he rolled his eyes again and you flipped him off ‘why did they even let you in the band?, you’re so annoying’ honestly, it kinda hurt you but you knew you were annoying so you didn’t comment on it, you just continued eating, trying to annoy him slightly. It kind of worked but then you all just carried on with your day.
It was the day of the show and more people had ended up coming, a total of around 5,000 people were there and you were getting kinda scared, but you had a couple drinks and the fear vanished, you were sober enough to play, but you knew you’d do some things you may regret later on.
The show began and Gee spoke to the crowd as you guys began playing the beginning of the first song, vampires will never hurt you.
A few songs later you had the stupid idea to kiss Mikey. You held the side of Mikey’s cheek gently and the crowd went wild, Gerard got confused and looked at both of you and then so did Ray. The song ended and neither of you noticed, the only sounds were coming from the crowd screaming. You put both hands on Mikey’s face and smashed your lips against his, he wrapped his arms around your neck and you slipped yours around his waist. Ray was gonna murder him, but you looked so cute together, he couldn’t lie. You both broke the kiss and you smirked at him, kissing him again and biting his bottom lip whilst both swaying from side to side on your feet slightly. Gerard was making stupid comments the whole time with frank and Ray only stared angrily, his brother was making out with one of his best friends?! ON STAGE! You and Mikey stopped kissing and Mikey nodded at Gerard to begin the next song.
After the show you all went to a club and you got dared to drink a whole bottle of whiskey, you didn’t end up finishing it but you did end up telling Mikey you loved him, making out with Mikey once again and throwing up in the toilet and having to get carried back to ‘the Way house’ by Mikey, not that he minded, you looked so adorable when you were sleeping(/passed out 😭).
You ended up waking up while it was still night and everyone was about to get into bed, including the owner of whoever’s bed you were laying in right now. ‘Hey y/n-‘ ‘wait is this your bed Mikey?!’ You looked at it in disgust though you didn’t actual mind the fact that it was his one bit, in fact, you were pleased it was his bed. ‘Yeah, but I have a question’ he stood awkwardly (that cute stand where his legs face each other 😭) and then came to sit by you on the bed.
‘umm, when you said you loved me, did- did you actually like… mean it?’ He looked around the room whilst biting his lip, waiting for you to say no. You grabbed him and pulled him next to you, holding him tight, ‘yeah’ your answer was slightly muffled from the fact your face was buried in his chest. He hugged you back and you both fell asleep.
In the morning.
‘Sleep well guys?’ Gerard smirked as you and Mikey came into the kitchen whilst holding hands. Ray and frank both looked at you, Ray was looking at you and Mikey ‘evily’ while frank also smirked with Gerard. You turned and put your head on Mikey tiredly as he hugged you ‘shut up Gee.’
The end
I’m so bad at writing fanfic sorry, this is so crap 😭 I loved this idea, I just didn’t make this very well, I have no clue on how to write a quality fanfic, but y’know it’s a good scenario to daydream about?
💀👍
#mikey way x reader#mikey x reader#mychem#gerard way#gee way#mcr x reader#mikey way#x reader#male reader#fluff#enemies to lovers#emo#my chemical romance#pride month#gay#scenario#frank iero
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It Will Still Be Sunny When It’s All Over
In canon and fanon alike, it is mutually agreed upon that Frank Reynolds has some form of neurodegenerative disease. He’s old and senile. His memory loss is played for laughs, it’s lighthearted and fun. Yet, there is another member of the gang. With a life time of an eating disorder, alcoholism, substance abuse, and untreated mental illness; brain deterioration is inescapable and unavoidable. When someones entire personality is an elaborate lie, how does it look when it begins to fade away?
An Everywhere At The End Of Time inspired Macdennis fanfiction: In the works. . .
#macdennis#eateot#everywhere at the end of time#iasip#iasip fanfic#iasip art#dennis reynolds#iasip dennis#mac mcdonald#iasip mac#its always sunny in philadelphia
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Your Graduation
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woah woaah lunch club fanfiction? in 2023? thats crazy i know, im reuploading from ummm my ao3 giggles
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It was mid June, the school year was coming to an end and there sat a group, Travis, Schlatt, Noah, Ted, Cooper, and Charlie.
A group of seniors everyone at their small high school that everyone always sees together, but right now it’s the evening of grad day, they’ve all walked across the stage, they all had their respective parties with family, celebrating a big milestone. Now the skies turning red and pink, and they’re all sat in the back of Ted’s truck on an old back road surrounded by fields, Coopers car parked next to the truck, they all got their respective drinks and had just finished passing around a blunt.
“So.. We did it.”
Noah says, sipping on his red solo cup filled with god knows what. Cooper lets out a breathless laugh and nods, looking at the setting sun.
“My dad really didn’t think i’d graduate. No one did.” Cooper was a known stoner in their small town, a lot of their group were, but coopers dad was, to put it simply, a major fucking asshole. Everyone had something to push for;
Cooper wanted to prove his dad wrong, become something more than a drop out.
Noah wanted to get away from his alchie mom.
Travis wanted to get away from the school, the teachers.
Schlatt wanted to get away from his brother who was a piece of shit and his guardian.
Ted wanted to get out of their small ass hick town.
Charlie wanted to get away from foster care.
They all just wanted to get away.
This town fucked them up, it was a fight to survive, it was sneaking out during the night and meeting at the old run down playground because one of them didn’t feel safe at home whether it was because of the adults they lived with or it was because of themselves. They fought to keep each other above water, and now they’re getting closer to the shore.
“What now?” Travis asks, looking around at all the other boys, the people he grew up with, his best friends, his family.
“Well… Why don’t we leave?” Charlie says easily, with a shrug. “Leave? We can’t just leave, can we?” The curly haired brunette asks, bewildered.
“I mean, we’re all 18, we’re all graduated, none of us have anymore commitments here. We could!” Charlie says, smiling brightly as he explains it all.
Ted sat silently watching the exchange, looking over at Schlatt silently before nodding at his friends. “We can, we could load up all our vehicles as much as we can with basics, grab our important shit and we could leave tonight?”
Schlatt grins, a shine in his eye that hasn’t been seen in a while. “Let’s fuckin do it.”
“Wh- Really? We- We can just, leave?” Travis asks, awe in his eye, excitement in his voice.
“Let’s do it.”
And so, that’s exactly what they did, they all packed a suitcase and a backpack full of basics things they would need and they were gone. Ted, Cooper and Schlatt all had their own vehicles, so they divided. Travis rode with Schlatt, Charlie rode with Ted and Noah rode with Cooper, sitting on a call all together, not sure where they were all going but god did they feel alive. Soon everyone had gone quiet and was focused on driving, but in Schlatts truck Travis was watching the stars as Schlatt drove. Travis looked at the taller boy.
“Will you miss it?” He asks, his voice soft as he looks ahead, seeing coopers car in front of Schlatts on the highway.
“Miss what?” Schlatt asks, he wants out and he knows they all had, to be frank, a shit time growing up there.
“The good times, and maybe the bad. Like… you and Noah’s robot club and going to watch Charlie ‘n Ted’s theatre plays and Cooper’s slam poetry and just… The good y’know?”
Schlatt nods, smiling weakly, a hole in his chest there. “I- Yeah Trav, I will miss it. But we’ll find somewhere that feels even more like home.”
The smaller man nods processing his words, “yeah, you’re right.”
Then the two fell into a silence.
Minutes turned to hours, everyones passengers were asleep, but the sun was beginning to rise, enjoying their peace. But soon, the peace was interuppted by Teds phone buzzing over and over, then Schlatt’s and so on. Cooper looked at his phone, seeing it was his parents, and just declining. The blonde thought about his life so far, he’s freshly graduated, god and now he basically fucking ran away with his friends?
At least he’s with people who cares, they don’t care if he smokes, or if he can’t control his impulse or if he isn’t that good at math.
They care if he’s safe and if he’s taking care of himself;
They care about him.
After about an hour everyone’s phones stopped buzzing.
Then after another hour they find a small city to stop at, to take a break for breakfast. Everyone parks and gets out to go into the small cafe, everyone orders their breakfast.
From afar it looks like a group of teen boys that look a mess, eyebags and messy hair.
But if you knew them, they look happier than they ever have been.
They look free.
They may not know where they’re going but they’re always home with each other.
#lunch club#schlatt fanfic#ted nvison fanfic#slimecicle fanfic#traves fanfic#cscoop fanfic#hugbox fanfic#smplive#not maintagging bc id rather die#meooow um um#mcyt fanfiction
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For the fanfic ask thing: 6, 7, 8, 17, 22, 23, 26, 29, 35, 39, 42, 49, 68 and 75 c:
6. What's the last line you wrote?
"... he may yet make a surprisingly great trainer!"
Victor couldn't help the sneer of his top lip, or the darkening of his brow, or the way he parted his teeth just slightly and asked: "What do you mean, 'surprisingly'?"
Title: To the Victor Goes the Spoils
Fandom: Pokémon (Sword & Shield)
Relationship(s): Victor/Hop
7. Post a snippet from a WIP.
Brassius has no classmates to celebrate with; no teachers to particularly thank. Within the month, he finds an empty warehouse studio in Artazon for his fantastical sculptures and fills the gardens of his new home with roses; agave; blackberries.
Title: Carnivore
Fandom: Pokémon (Scarlet & Violet)
Relationship(s): Hassel/Brassius
8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a WIP.
"Jack we have to go."
"... I can't."
"We have to, pet. We'll be found if we stay here, and to be quite frank..." he trails off, wincing. He folds his lips together ponderously and tries again: "... to be honest, you don't look like you could squash a roach, let alone kill a Splicer."
Title: Dark and Familiar and Deep as the Sea (re-write)
Fandom: Bioshock 1 + 2
Relationship(s): Jack Ryan/Atlas
17. Do you have a writing routine?
Absolutely not.
22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?
Fandom and music have always gone hand in hand for me, so most of my titles end up being song lyrics!
I usually write with a title in mind, but sometimes it changes during the "drafting" process.
23. What is the easiest and what is the hardest: beginnings, middles, ends?
Beginnings are easier, certainly.
Endings are very difficult for me. I have a hard time conceptualizing a good stopping point in my stories; a lot of the time they keep going of their own volition, but not necessarily linearly.
26. What's your least favourite part of the writing process?
Drafting.
I can't do word vomit; I can't write things badly on purpose; I don't entirely understand how drafting works. Someone needs to take my brain and my hands and do it for me so I can have the template muscle memory to do it on my own.
29. What's something about your writing that you're proud of?
I like to think that I'm quite good at dialogue, and I think I'm getting better at making my overall prose snappier and more minimalist.
35. What's your favourite fic that you've posted?
Overall? Probably At the End of the Line (Maybe a Diamond Ring). It's relatively well-written; the ending actually ends somewhat cleanly; it paces well compared to most of my other works. I'm pleased with it. I wouldn't change it.
More recently, I'm quite fond of My Lover Stands on Golden Sands, but I also don't like the ending all that much anymore. I feel like it just... falls off at the end.
39. Most self-indulgent WIP?
I wouldn't strictly call it a WIP, but I still have a few passages from a completed Nuzlocke (OmegaRuby / X) that I was going to transfer into a prose format. It has a lot of headcanons and self-insert-y elements without it being a straight-up self-insert fanfiction.
42. What's your favourite title you've come up with?
Mentioned above, I have two (named) Pokémon stories in the works. One is "Carnivore" and one is "To the Victor Goes the Spoils". I like both.
Out of my published works I think Dark and Familiar and Deep as the Sea is my favourite (although this fic I'd hardly consider to be published in its current state). The Blue Tide Pulling me Under is also pretty up there.
49. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?
I don't think I can accurately answer this because I kind of know what I want my writing to aspire to be, but I don't really know what it is. I don't know my own quirks, I only can hazard a guess as to what I would want them to be. It would probably be a question better posed to a member of my audience rather than me.
However, true as I may think that is, it's a bit of a cop-out answer. If I had to choose I'd probably pick Athair. It needs to be re-written, though.
68. Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way that you do?
My one true fanfiction love is Hang the Fool, and that's probably influenced me the most in terms of style. It's a story that's repetitive without lingering past its welcome; it's very articulate while still being descriptive. I admire it greatly.
75. Is there a particular fic that your readers gravitate towards that you didn't expect?
My five most popular works are as follows:
Aphrodite
Athair
You're Gonna be My Bruise
Frame and Wire
The Blue Tide Pulling me Under
I don't understand why Aphrodite is ranked so highly. Maybe because it's my oldest Bioshock work and has simply been around the longest? I think it's pretty crap now, but I also think some of my newer stuff is worse.
You're Gonna be My Bruise I think is the biggest surprise. I truly think this is my worst one. It's too short. It's written poorly. It is simply bad. Why do you people like it so much?
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i have more to say actually. hi ivi love you <3 okay so. i think one of the reasons that later seasons arent hitting as well in terms of comedy (for me, at least), is that the antics are largely off screen. they allude of antics and dont SHOW us them as much as they used to. instead we are getting more episodes of them bonding as a group. and while i think this takes away from the comedy, it is definitely intentional and i think it is more proof of. how they are intentionally moving towards more meaningful story lines. i am thinking specifically of the charlies dad ireland episodes where mac gets to be gay, dennis is sick, and charlie gets one of thee most heart wrenching moments in the entire show. the antics are lessening and its SO meaningful. even the poop bit is somewhat meaningful (i hate saying that) because it's proof that frank is aging and i kind of hope they have an episode about it. not just frank-antics (frantics, if you will). GOD I WANT A MEANINGFUL DEE EPISODE SOOOOO BAD. the women and gays deserve a good dee episode soooooo badly. i want her to kill someone like. okay now i am writing fanfiction here. i want an episode to open on her covered in blood with a comically huge knife (blood on her face and mouth as a call back to the cannibal episode maybe?) and the gang thinks she murdered someone, but in the end its actually because she ate a girl out on her period and they had some kinky knifeplay sex. manifesting it. ummmmm. what else can i burden you with. thats it. for now. (threat)
hii Jess, love you too <3 and putting this under a cut bc it got too long
okay this is very interesting and I think you're probably right, tho i can't actually properly comment on it bc i haven't really analyzed the show as a whole to see the actual difference that you mention, bc they did also make emotional and bonding episodes in the past, but i agree that I do think the show is getting more serious and more about the feelings of the characters, bc I feel like even if they don't have an intention of ending right now, they know they are getting to an end and so it's time to start seeing the impact of the things they have lived. It's time to finally go somewhere (like it's insane that they did the Charlie's dad thing, that was an unresolved plot since s2!!!!! since the beginning!!! and they closed it!!!) they are literally bringing their recurring themes to the surface, and so macdennis.
and I so I do think we will see also the meaningful side of frank and dee, and it is gonna make me cry. (btw 'frantics' hello I love your brain skdjskd)
now I don't have much thoughts about frank (tho I would argue that we have started seeing his emotional side with the whole charlie thing) but I do about dee (my love 😍). Now objectively I think Dee's plot is going to be about acting, something will happen that will get her to realize she has to stop trying to be an actress, and that process will also be about her need of approval. I don't think she's going to get 'fixed' (there's nothing to fix, she's perfect) but it will be about dealing with all that. That's my bet, but i'm open to them surprising me, it would not be the first time. Now what do I want from Dee's plot?? lesbianism. kissing a girl will fix dee!!!! and also it will drive mac and dennis (for different reasons) INSANE, so the comical potential is right there!! like people always talk about 'how gay the show is' and only mention the guys (bc yeah they are gay) and dee gets ignored when she has a very clear queercoding that drives me insane!!! like she wants to kiss women so bad it makes her look stupid, bc she's also stupid and doesn't know she wants to kiss women!!!! I'm kicking and biting just by thinking this, rcg stop being so stupid!!!! 🔪🔪
and so in relation to all this, HELLO I LOVE YOUR IDEA!!!! first I'm so much more into the joke being that dee (or Charlie btw) is a killer than dennis, so this is already perfect. and second just your brain!!! the call back to the cannibalism, the idea of the whole thing happening bc they just don't talk to her and ask her but go behind her back to unravel everything, the knife!!! and obviously the lesbianism!! and also love that as a way of revealing the queer dee plot, like I love it being a big deal for dee bc it's important, but also it would be hilarious if she has just always known but never like commented it of made a big deal of it bc she knows the gang doesn't care kskdkdjdkd
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Frank, there are some people out there who need to Consume Better Media. Could you help me out and suggest some Better Media for Consumption that I could recommend?
What a nice question. Let's assume that I'm introducing you to these media as a form of Better Socialization (I want to make sure that you don't alienate people with your non-standard preferences).
Books: Anna Karenina, Howards End, The Scar, Hamlet, The Wings of the Dove, Ender's Game, A Lesson Before Dying, Riddley Walker, I, Claudius, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Give Cryptonomicon a shot, but be ready to bail at the beginning. It's got its moments but overall it's more or less an unrevised first draft.
Films: Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski (but not its spin-offs), Welcome to the Dollhouse, Amelie, Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, The Godfather, Clockwork Orange, A Clockwork Orange, Pulp Fiction, 12 Monkeys, Office Space.
TV:
The West Wing, The OC, Quantum Leap, Alien, Everything Dinosaur, Tomorrow's Child, Homicide: Life on the Streets (but not The X Files), Beautiful City, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Black Mirror, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.
And be sure to track down fanfiction for all of these, especially Dead Poets Society, The 400 Blows, Jeeves and Wooster, and Clockwork Orange (sans the official sequel). As with the official sequel, these fanfics should be treated as experimental fanfics. A friend of mine is currently writing a musical that is based on Tomorrow's Child and it is awesome.
This is certainly a little short on Young Adult Media, but I wouldn't know how to find any in this context.
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Weekly Update
December 19th 2022 - January 2nd 2023:
A new beginning and old endings.
Hello my friends! It has been awhile. I hope you have all had a wonderful holiday. I have gotten a bit of writing done this holiday, unfortunately I did not get around to writing a holiday themed story. But I have begun work on a crow fanfiction. Which remains my first priority until compelted.
ToTS Plans: Currently Worldbuilding is taking a side line. It is my third priority right now, A Goncharov fanfic and Crow fanfic being the two above it. I am hoping that the software I use for worldbuilding will get updated with a materials page. As I have a few different ideas for metals and materials that will be present in the world of Acherion.
TCB Plans: I will be moving all of my stories over to Ao3. Wattpad had a good run for me, but it just doesn't feel right, I don't like how its formatted (Among other things). I will keep my account up and leave the past stories on it, but will not be updating the account any more.
Throw Away Plans: I still have a few different stories in the works, though these have been postpone until an unknown date. Most likely it will be in February, I may write a themed piece for valentines if I can get over my usual tradition for valentines.
Fanfiction Plans: Crow fanfiction! Frank and Ling will make a lovely couple! You will experience going to see Goncharov (The fake movie that Tumblr made up for shits and giggles) in theatres as a child. I don't know how I am going to do it, but I will. Things will work out.
That is all for today my friends! I have put off the update for a bit due to some... unfortunate mental health slope. But we are back now. Back and gonna win. I will be taking things slow for my own sake. Have a splendid week my friends!
#patron of stories#The Patron of Stories#PatronofStories#writing#worldbuilding#patronofstories#stories#weekly update#world building#the patron of stories#Tower of a Thousand Shadows#The Copper Basket
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