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thelordofgifs · 5 months

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Silm fandom! Have a PSA. Hate the piped tags on AO3? Would much rather read a fic tagged Fingon/Maedhros than one tagged Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo? Have I got the userscript for you! Look how neat and readable my AO3 silm character tags look now:

What is a userscript?

Good question! The small sibling, who is a computer geek, did not know about these when I mentioned them, so I have to conclude I have stumbled upon some secret hidden wisdom here. In short, a userscript is a (free) program written in JavaScript that modifies the web pages you visit. They're very safe, and imo an essential part of customising your web browsing experience to your liking!

How do I install userscripts?

I might make a separate post about mobile browsers because I'm tired. But on desktop, you first want to get a browser extension that allows you to manage your userscripts. I like Tampermonkey, which works with most major browsers.

Okay, how do I get rid of the piped tags?

Once you've installed the userscript manager of your choice, you want to go to the userscript Ao3 De-Piped Tags on Greasy Fork and click the big green "install" button. For most userscripts, that's it! For this one, we need to take a couple of tiny extra steps:

Go to your Tampermonkey dashboard (you can find this by clicking on "browser extensions" and then "Tampermonkey". Unfortunately I don't know how other userscript managers work, so if you didn't choose Tampermonkey you'll have to play around a little.)

Click the "Ao3 De-Piped Tags" script on your Tampermonkey dashboard.

This should bring you to the "Editor" page, and a bunch of scary-looking code in JavaScript. Don't panic, I have no idea what any of this does and I still managed to do the necessary fiddling! The block you want looks like this:

//SCRIPT SETTINGS// const sideToDisplay = 'right'; //left OR right, for character tags with one pipe (two names) const partToDisplay = 'right'; // left OR right OR central, for character tags with two pipes (three names) const tagsOnFicPage = 0; //0 to disable, 1 to enable

4. All you want to do now is change the first line so that it reads

const sideToDisplay = 'left'; //left OR right, for character tags with one pipe (two names)

so that the tag "Maedhros | Maitimo" displays as "Maedhros" instead. If you're a Quenya freak (affectionate) who would prefer all the tags display characters' Quenya names instead of Sindarin ones, skip this step.

5. If you'd also like this change to show on the fic page itself, not just the AO3 search results page, change the third line of the code block to read

const tagsOnFicPage = 1; //0 to disable, 1 to enable

6. Save your changes to the file, refresh your AO3 page, and marvel!

I hate this and want to get rid of it.

No problem, you can turn off the userscipt or completely uninstall it from the Tampermonkey dashboard!

I want to display some names with the left part of the piped tag and others with the right part, is that possible?

Unfortunately not :( This also applies if you're in other fandoms (I hear The Witcher fandom is one such?) which uses piped tags where you want to use the right side of the tag.

Can anyone else see the changes I've made?

No! The userscript applies to your own browsing experience only, so you aren't messing with how anyone else's fics display when you use it.

This is magic, got any other cool userscripts for AO3?

Loads, most of them much easier to use than this one! Here are some links:

Put your "marked for later" button on the AO3 homepage

Add HTML formatting options to the AO3 comment box

Set your default posting language to English

Fix the bug where copy-pasting from Google Docs to AO3 puts spaces around all your italics

And here's a list of many more to peruse!

Cool, how do I get this to work on a mobile browser?

Yeah my laundry's finished now so I'm not typing all that out. Maybe tomorrow.

#silmarillion #ao3 #how to ao3 #discovered this wisdom recently and it Must be shared

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tasteleeknow · 1 year

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hihi jade !! i’m fairly new to tumblr and wanted to ask what’s the best way to reblog a post? i want you and my other favourite writers to get the attention + support you deserve but i’m still quite not sure on how it works ><

hihi !! that's really nice to of you make the effort to understand ! i'll put a little tutorial under the cut for you and anyone else that would like to learn. this is one of the best ways you can support writers on tumblr and i really encourage readers to stop and read this !

main or side? if you have no problem reblogging fics onto your main blog you can skip this section! this is just for people who don't feel comfortable putting fic on their blog for whatever reason.

tumblr has a thing called sideblogs where you can make secondary blogs on the same account. no one else looking at that blog will know it's attached to your main unless you tell someone. it's a great option for people who want a blog only for fic they read. the downsides is that you can only reply to posts from your main and send asks off anon from your main. but it's a great option for reblogging fic.

on mobile: just go to your blog then press your name and then 'create a new blog'

on web: click the profile icon then 'new'

how to reblog this part is easy! the best way to help writers is to reblog any fic you read and enjoyed. leaving a little comment in the tags is a lovely bonus and i'll show you how to do that soon. first i'll show you how to reblog really quickly with no comments. it's as easy at liking!

on mobile: at the bottom of a post, HOLD the reblog button. the icons of all your blogs will appear. DRAG then RELEASE over the blog you want to reblog the post to. your main or any sideblog you've made. that's it!

on web: hold the e key on your keyboard and icons from your blogs will pop up. then hover over the icon you want to reblog to and click. same deal as mobile. will reblog to the blog you clicked, quick and easy.

adding feedback/tags this is the bonus step that will make any writer's day. i read every single comment people leave in the tags of their reblogs! here's how you can add comments to your reblogs!

bonus: using tags is also how you can organise your blog. if you add tags like 'minho' or 'favourite' and then search them on your blog later, you can find your favourite fics. much easier to organise than likes.

on mobile: press the reblog button instead of holding it.

where it says '+ add tags to help people find your post', click and add any and all thoughts about the fic you just read. it can be a little keysmash or it can be an essay. adore anything you feel like offering. type a sentence or word then hit return on your phone keyboard then type the next word or sentence. and so on and so on. (this is also where you can put your organisational tags). then when you're done press reblog.

on web. click the reblog button. you'll get a popup like this. type your tags. all your thoughts. then any tags to help you find the post later. hit reblog!

bonus: if you really do want to write an ESSAY (always welcome). this is where you can put your thoughts into the caption instead of tags. where i've written 'long comments/essays here' on mobile screenshot and where it says 'go ahead, put anything' on web.

when should you reblog? whenever you finish a fic that you enjoyed! tumblr works by sharing posts with others through reblogging. when you follow people any posts they reblog will show on your dashboard. it's great for organically sharing content without algorithms like other sites use. fanfiction is all about fandom and community. writers write. and readers share and comment on the writing they enjoy. healthy ecosystem!

what are likes for then? exactly what it says on the tin. hey, i liked this! a lot of people use them as bookmarks. i can only see this being a good use of it if you also reblog fics once you've read them. i can only imagine how many liked posts some people have. they must have to scroll for ages to find anything. i use it just as a like button. literally, i liked this! or to just show support for my mutuals personal posts. if i find a fic i want to read later, i'll use it for that sometimes too.

what if i'm shy? firstly, tumblr is entirely anonymous. i don't know who you are and all i'm doing is reading whichever tags you've decided to add to my work. no one you know can judge you for the fic you read if you make a blog just for fic. and i'm certainly not judging you. i have anxiety myself, i understand the struggle. exposure therapy! just give it a go, see how you feel. i really feel you if you just make the effort to start doing it, you'll realise it really is okay! writers on here adore feedback and they'll appreciate you a lot for being a reader that reblogs and comments. reblogging with no comment to start off might help you ease into it.

writing takes a lot of time and effort. the only thing i've ever seen asked in return from the people that write is for you to let them know what you thought of it in the tags of a reblog! it's a very minor action compared to the time and effort it took to write the fic as well as the time and effort it took you to read it!

anyway, appreciate anyone who made the effort to read this and understand. readers who reblog and comment are the reason anyone is still on this site writing! ♡

ps. if you use desktop you can add the extension 'xkit rewritten' to chrome or firebox and use the feature quick reblog which makes tagging and reblogging even easier. the quick reblog feature looks like this. xkit rewritten is also how i make tag bundles that i can add to posts with one click instead of typing 20 tags out everytime i post a fic.

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #kpop imagines #skz smut #lee know smut #bang chan smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #x reader #answered #how to reblog

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syrips · 8 months

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hello im gonna pin this post

hello my name is Syrips, im a super duper simp and simp/self-insert enabler for others who love strahd or any cos/ravenloft/fictional characters

im 28, but i sometimes say im thirty as a vague response because its easier and faster to say (or safer to say to strangers)

i think i am autistic but i am currently only self-diagnosed; i plan to tell my doctors once i compile a binder of reasons why i think im autistic based on noted events in my childhood, behavior, and my reflected perspective on things in pages of charts and text which is a totally neurotypical thing to do

im genderfluid and i am fine with any and all pronouns (different people may use different/changing/fluid pronouns on me, i am completely fine with this)

im polyamorous and pansexual/panromantic, i gush over games that have polyamory/pan options!!

i have huge CoS/Ravenloft spoilers so please, PLEASe do not enter unless you are fine with being spoiled with all kinds of content. i also wont explain what is or isnt 'canon' because, well, some things may be canon for one person, while potential/not-canon for another, so i really cannot confirm or deny it myself.. ask your DM for confirmation! (and for my players who are here, hehe, goodluck figuring it out!)

i do music, art, crafting, and streaming sometimes, here is my linktree: https://linktr.ee/syrips

please 'ask'/message/send me any and all of your curse of strahd and/or ravenloft works of art! this can include these and more!:

playlists

moodboards

art/portfolio/link to your art or artblog

pages of your OC/PC/dnd lore (both player and DM welcome)

campaign/session notes and storytime

canon and potential-/home-/head-canon dumps

narrations/imagines/ao3/google docs/fanfic/fic writings

cool crafts!!

i crave it more than strahd craves blood, please and thank you!

you can also send me stuff and let me know if you want me to gush/simp over it, provide advice, or simply acknowledge it (publicly or privately)! let me know in advance cuz i dont want to make you uncomfortable with what you share

i have no limits on triggering fictional content, just make sure to tw it properly if it is sensitive content for others

my Ask thingy is always open, i may ramble alot if i get passionate enough though so be warned! hehe

ok goodbye ill edit or change this whenever idk

Edit Entry 1 - 11th Moon, 2023

for context, keita/raze (he/him) is my irl partner. he's been a simp for alucard (castlevania) longer than i've begun simping for strahd. i only discovered this years into the relationship when we watched castlevania (where i expected to be a bigger simp for castlevania), and instead HE made high pitch simping noises as alucard appeared on the screen and i was like -sus eyes- wait a GOSH DARN MINUTE-. also, keita has a thing for necks. i shrugged it off when he first told me, but years later i started simping for strahd and now i look back at that moment like 'hm. odd.-'. anyways, i mostly started dating him because he sounds like a kermit the frog southern guy who goes 'howdy howdy' and he says 'i should be golden' unironically and i think thats pretty funny

i tag stuff as #making a keita tag so when keita presses this he can see all the stuff that he likes so that i can organize stuff and incase he ever decides to poke around my blog and use this tag search within my blog

Edit Entry 2 and 3 - 12th Moon, 2023

syrips OC/PC list (loosely alphabetical)

Other People's Adored OC/PC list (loosely alphabetical)

#syrips pc #will edit as needed

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dduane · 2 years

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Hi Diane! I’ve been a huge fan of your Star Trek work for years (and will now be investigating your original fiction I wasn’t previously aware of) and am absolutely thrilled to find you have an active blog.

I did a cursory search through your tags but didn’t see anything answering this so forgive me if you’ve already gone over this, but how do you go about publishing work that belongs to an already established franchise like Star Trek? Is it just through the publisher? Do you go to some branch of Paramount/CBS and get their approval for the story content? I’d love to know the process. I’m assuming with all the new Star Trek content these days, and CBS locking down on what’s “canon”, it’s probably more difficult to get a one off novel published using their IP anymore. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this (or be directed to a post where you’ve already explained).

Thank you for all your wonderful work!

You're very welcome! I hope you find my original work at least as enjoyable as the Trek. :)

Re the business of working with an established franchise: yep, we've dealt with that here before, every now and then. But the tagging has been (admittedly) uneven. So let me just come at it again. :) (Always adding the note that this is how I did it, back in the day, and the methods or pathways of access may have changed.)

...So how did I get to be a published Star Trek novelist?

(adding a cut here, because this is a long one)

I am a first-generation Star Trek fan. I fell in love with ST:TOS* as soon as it premiered, and immediately started writing fanfic in that universe. (It should be mentioned here that—a couple/few decades before the days of widespread internet-connectedness—not only did I have no idea that other people were doing something very similar, but I had no idea it even had a name. I was writing all alone, in a vacuum, with no support whatsoever… but however accidentally, I’d discovered something invaluable: it made me happy. We’ll come back to this later.)

So. Time went by and I slid from that genre of fanfic-writing into writing fic that was much more Tolkienian in genre, and from there, into writing original fiction that Tolkien would have found, well, rather different. Cutting another longish story short, in 1978/9 I sold and had published my first novel, this one—the initial volume in the LGBTQ-and-poly-ish Tale of the Five / Middle Kingdoms series that would later get me nominated two years running for the Astounding Award for best new writer in the SF/fantasy field.

Now when something like this happens to you, it gets a lot easier to pitch new novels to people. I’m not just talking about the increased attention that awards and nominations bring you. But just having a traditionally-published book out tells other potential publishers that you’ve mastered at least some important aspects of the novelist business: (a) being able to conceive of a plot that will sustain a novel-length work, (b) being able to go from concept to starting in on a novel, © being able to finish a novel, and (d) being able to cope with the editorial process—handling suggested edits, dealing with a copyedited manuscript, dealing with proofs, etc etc.

As it happens, while I was dealing with the sequelae to publishing The Door Into Fire—meaning the inevitable question “And what are you going to do next?”—I'd also been doing some typing for an acquaintance who was typewriter-challenged. They were writing a Star Trek novel. And I have to say that what I was typing up for them was giving me hives. It was…not anything like what I thought a Star Trek novel should look like. I remember saying to a friend or two, on the quiet, “I could eat a ream of typing paper and barf a better Star Trek novel than this.” And finally one of them—almost certainly David Gerrold, who (God love him) has a history of daring me into doing things I want to do anyway—turned around and called my bluff and said, “All right, go on then, quit your kvetching and just go do it.”

Which left me staring at the problem with a lot more intent. Fine, you’re going to pitch a novel to Trek: what story are you going to tell? It’s not like you’re constrained by a TV budget here. Stretch out and tell the biggest Star Trek story you can find: one that can only be told, or best told, in this universe. (This being my working “prime criterion” for stories told in other people’s universes. For best effect the story should only be capable of being told within that set of characters and circumstances. The jewel must be cut to suit the setting, not—however counterintuitive it might seem—not the other way around.)

So I sat with that concept for a while, and eventually the right idea, or set of ideas, presented itself. I can vividly remember the moment. I was sitting on a bus bench near Victory and White Oak in the San Fernando Valley when the idea hit. It was a long time before cellphones, so I had to wait an hour or so to get home so I could call my agent and say “Don, guess what? I’m going to write a Star Trek novel!”

There was the briefest pause, after which he said, only half joking: “Do you have to?” Because both of us knew perfectly well that from Paramount’s point of view, Star Trek novels were merely another kind of merchandising, like plastic phasers and James T. Kirk action figures. (And strictly speaking, regardless of how we love them, they still are.) …But then Don said, “Okay, do an outline and we’ll see what they think.”

And so I wrote the outline, and my agent sent it along to the editor of the Trek books at Pocket—who was then Dave Hartwell (God rest him, a fabulous editor of any and all kinds of SF)—and Dave read it and liked it, and he sent it to Paramount for approval, and they read it and liked it, and gave Dave the go-ahead to buy it. And that turned into The Wounded Sky. (A nice overview is here. But I am also charmed to tell you that this book has its own entry at TV Tropes.) As a tied-for-second novel went—So You Want To Be A Wizard was written at very nearly the same time—it doesn’t seem to have done too badly.

Anyway, after that got written and turned in and published, the people at Pocket—somewhat to my surprise—said to me, “Okay, what have you got for us next?” It was that simple… and I was that lucky. I liked working with them: they liked working with me: and they liked what I’d done enough to ask for more. (And...though I have no data on this... I strongly suspect the first book sold well.) So I was in for eight novels more, spread over a fair bit of time. And I have one more plot lying around that I should really get in touch with present editorial about and see if there’s any interest. You never can tell…

So that’s how I did it. Everybody else’s mileage will inevitably vary. But I don’t think there’s going to be much argument with the idea that before working with other IP-holders in their worlds, you might usefully first do as much work as possible in your own. That way potential publishing partners will have something to look at to help them get a sense of what your voice sounds like outside someone else’s world.

…Now as for working with someone else’s IP—anyone’s—this is how I manage it.

(a) Remember it’s theirs. They were there before you arrived and will doubtless be there long after you’re gone. They own that property, are likely enough to have worked hard on it in their time, and—whether they originated it or are just its buyers—are almost certainly powerfully protective of it. You can press against the edges of their envelope—quite hard, if you’re careful and have permission—but break through the fabric of their corporate reality without warning and you are going to be in deep trouble.

Do your homework. Know your licensor: know their history with other creators. Find out where there have been problems in the past and keep your eyes open for warning signs that you may be about to discover some new one. If you were lucky enough to be invited in, act like a considerate houseguest (creatively speaking). While working in that universe, don’t (for example) sneakily attempt to jettison parts of the property that annoy you, or covertly subvert bits that seem to call for subversion. (Overt subversion is a different story. Be in communication with your IP owner about this, and you may be able to win them over. [Though you should be prepared for them to take credit for this after the fact.] But I have seen people disinvited from franchises with extreme prejudice after they were caught trying to pull one or another kind of “fast one” on their publisher.) If there’s a work-with-us guide or in-house bible, sleep with it under your pillow.

(b) Know your subject/universe. KNOW it. It is an absolute certainty that no matter how well you think you know it, there are fans out there who know it better than you do—massively, obsessively, eat-drink-and-sleep-ively better— and if you put a foot wrong, they will come for you. Leaving aside the issue of not wanting to be left looking like an idiot on the Internet, you ought in any case to be deeply cognizant of your host-world’s internal verities before you can expect to write it flexibly and well.

—And add (b1) to this: Know your characters’ voices. Not just the way they phrase things, but the way they think about things and (possibly more importantly) feel about things. It’s not you the readers will have come for. It’s them. You must channel the core characters at the very least authentically, and (ideally) affectionately, or it’ll all end in tears.

For the duration of this work, you are in service to them. Treat them courteously and give them your best words to speak; but always in their own voices. Don’t be afraid to let them be more real than you are. For a lot of people, unquestionably, they are. If that’s a problem for you, you shouldn’t be doing this kind of work. (At least not more than once.)

© Don’t do it for money. Don’t do it for fame. Do it for love or not at all. ...Let’s be realistic: any licensing IP is likely to (in the great scheme of things) be far better and more widely known than you are. You may acquire some positive press for your work with it, but in many people’s minds the positivity will have to do far more with the property than with you, regardless of your gifts or how much you love that universe, or whether or not you “came up through the fandom.”

As regards money, some licensed work will pay competitively with original work done in the same genre, but most will not. Not even being a Hot Name with a given IP will necessarily guarantee you any kind of serious money. (In particular, IP licensors have a historical tendency to pay lower-than-normally-accepted royalty rates, and in the past it has taken very energetic and insistent agents to break them of this habit, even if only temporarily and on a case-by-case basis.)

It therefore stands to reason that, for the sake of your own best functioning as a writer, you need to be doing work of this kind because you really need to do it (or to have done it) to make yourself happy: to scratch a creative itch, or to give something back to a property/universe that you love.

Now, “do it for love” can cover a lot of ground. You don’t have to be head over heels in luuuurrrrve with a property to write for it well. (In fact I suspect this state could hinder a writer’s ability to do their best work for an IP. You need at least a little separation from it so that you can realistically evaluate how what you’re producing is stacking up.) You can just be in really strong like with a given property. But you ought to be in at least some kind of like. A personal commitment to the stylistic, rational or emotional core of a given property will get you through the times of challenge that will inevitably surround your involvement with it far better than any unrealized hope of a big payday or of more widespread recognition of your own talents.

Finally: This may sound heretical, but I don’t believe that licensed work is necessarily most fruitfully viewed as a natural stepping-stone to doing original work. (Or even to becoming a licensor yourself, though that does happen.) I think that, well and thoughtfully handled at both ends of things—the auctorial as well as the editorial—not-your-own-IP-work can be entirely worth doing wholly for its own sake. To write for the enjoyment of readers who’re using licensed work to scratch the same itch or feed the same passion that fanfic readers/writers know—of just wanting more good story in that universe? That’s entirely honorable employment, in my book. You’re an entertainer! Entertain, and fear nothing.

(And read your contracts closely.) :)

HTH!

(ETA: for the interested or curious, another post looking more at the issue of how IP-adjacent book editors pick the writers to work on them is over here.)

*Isn’t it wonderful to have to specify which kind of Star Trek you’re talking about? The times we live in... :)

#Star Trek #Star Trek novels #writing #working with IP holders

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lastoneout · 2 years

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I'm about to tell on myself so fucking hard but you know what I wish was a feature on A03?

So...nhentai gives every comic posted to it a number, right? And you can take just that number, nothing else, and type it into the site's search box and it will take you DIRECTLY to that comic. So when people on reddit or whatever want to post the source/talk about a comic they don't HAVE to post a whole ass link, they can just give you the number. Which is cool because links can be sketchy(there are a lot of fake nhentai sites that are just loaded with viruses and shit) and like, there are lots of other reasons people don't like clicking on random links/sharing them is hard(length for one). Just posting the comics barcode? I guess? saves all of that.

Plus something I have noticed is it's pretty fucking hard to find a specific fic if you don't have the link. Cuz just the title isn't gonna do you much good on A03 given how many fics all have the same/similar titles, and if you lost the author's name too you basically just have to dive headfirst into the fandom/ship tag and pray you find what you're looking for which SUCKS with big fandoms/ships that have like 100k + works. Which is actually part of why I think I've seen some people posting "I'm looking for this fic help" stuff as fics on A03.

(Edit: also with the common practice of orphaning and posting as anonymous on A03 sometimes the authors name doesn't do you any good either.)

So if each fic had/has a unique ID number it would be a lot easier to share them around so you'd be less likely to lose them, and you wouldn't have to worry about a broken link ect. cuz as long as you have those numbers you can find the fic again instantly.

And like A03 kinda has that in the sense that like, look, here's a link to one of my fics

It HAS those numbers at the end so theoretically if I knew a fics numbers I could just type in archiveofourown.org/works/(the number) and find the fic, but you can't actually use those numbers to search

So I don't see people like, normalizing sharing the numbers along with links cuz it's just a little too complicated.

But I mean just think, you find an old masterpost with hyperlinks to fics but the site has gone weird or the links broke or op deleted the post and the versions that still exist are all fucked up now something, and you're bummed cuz sure maybe they put the titles and fandoms and authors but for all you know the fics were set to anonymous or orphaned and either way that's a lot of searching, wouldn't it be nice if each listing also just had those numbers hanging out? And that way as long as you have so much as a picture of the post you can still find those fics. You don't have to save the post and hope it doesn't get deleted or go cram the stuff into "marked for later" right then and there, you can just hold on to those numbers. That sounds pretty nice to me!!

I dunno, maybe there is something I'm missing, but I was thinking about this bcs I have a bunch of new followers on Instagram who like this ship I make content for and I WANT to tell them I wrote a fic, but it's Instagram, you gotta post pics and doing a little info graphic feels kinda tacky? So I'm drawing something based on the fic to post, but then I guess I just have to put the link to the fic in the description or something, and I keep thinking GOD it would be so much easier if I could just post the numbers 38480276 and have that be enough for all of them to find the fic without scaring away people who don't want to click on random links/the awkwardness of just posting a link in general.

But yeah, that's my rant about the porn website doing it better bcs tbh sometimes they do and I think this being a feature or coming into common usage would be nice.

#archiveofourown #A03 #archive of our own #organization for transformative works

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ursulaismymiddlename · 1 year

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no pressure tags, feel free to ignore: @duckland @laurelwen @nightmares-and-fascinations @whats-rambled-rambled

Fic ideas for Jake (Sweetbitter) x You that i've been kicking around, but probably won't ever write:

You were a barista at a coffee shop that Jake frequented, at the start of the fic he hasn't seen you in awhile (he wasn't actually keeping track, but he remembers faces) and then one day you're at the restaurant

---

“Coffee shop girl?”

“.... Large black Americano, 2 pumps vanilla?”

“You remember.” (that dumb smirk of his)

“Yeah, you have your regulars, I have mine.”

“Sure, but what are you doing here? Doesn’t exactly seem your type of place.”

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, you’re some bright-eyed early bird barista. Shouldn’t you be gettin to bed soon?”

“So you’re mistaking my customer service persona for actually knowing me? Hmm… interesting.”

— “Oh, Jake, I see you’ve met the new line cook. She’s going to start fielding the expanded dessert menu until we can get a pastry chef hired.”

---

In an effort to be as big of an asshole as you perceive him to be, you keep referring to him as Statefarm (Like Jake, from Statefarm)... this may or may not catch on to others at the restaurant. And you give him shit about being from Cape Cod all the time (personally, I'm from St Louis, which seems like naive midwest shit, but statistically is a tougher area than ThE cApE so I enjoying the idea of making fun of him for it)

---

it's clearly antagonistic to start (a little Beatrice and Benedick going on) though y'all slowly start to become kinda friends and then probably more than that

---

"Yo, Statefarm, I need some Grandma."

"Drinkin on the job, coffee girl?"

"I got a tableside Flambé, so make with the booze, barboy."

---

Making homey food for family meals since you're the FNG and put in charge of the bitch work, especially when you're pulling double duty making prepping desserts for dinner service...

And making a particularly good looking/tasting dish, enough to even momentarily impress Jake and giving him a shit eating grin and a snooty "That's why I'm here, asshole."

---

At one point Jake catching you in the walk-in, visibly upset

“What happened?”

“Nothin. Go back to the bar.”

*blocks exit from walk-in* “What. Happened?”

“I said nothin! … *insert some name* was just being stupid and it got to me alright?”

“What did he say to you?”

*something about fucking a manager but not being pretty enough to be FoH and being given a spot in the kitchen*

Jake’s jaw clenches and he turns on a heel without another word, storming out of the walk-in in search of the offending person

---

I had a separate silly thought of you having to use the kitchen-supplied knives because you haven't been able to afford your own knife set yet and maybe catching a little (mostly jovial) flack for it, and maybe he gets one decent one for you or some shit haha

"Look, I saw it on sale while I was ordering some other stuff, so I thought I'd pick it up for ya. Maybe now you can stop bothering everyone else for theirs."

"Jake, I... thank you. How can I repay you?"

"Well, for starters, you can try this new cocktail I've been working on..." *pops open the bottle that came in the package*

---

“Wow, did you take these photos? They’re gorgeous! And is that… the hostess? Oh wow, she’s beautiful, all of these are so beautiful. But there’s something about them that feels so.. I mean I’m no art critic but… Nevermind, you don’t wanna hear it.”

“No, go on. Tell me.”

“Well, just… everything looks… out of touch. Disconnected. There’s a beautiful woman in your bed and you’re miles away. Guess life is easier through a camera lens… Sorry, I talk too much. Project too much too probably.”

“You’re right… You do talk too much.”

*rolling your eyes* “Shut up and make me a drink, Statefarm.”

---

Getting tipsy with Jake, he reminds you about your vlog for the folks back home and you decide to make one at his place, he’s just tipsy enough he’ll make an appearance, there’s some banter, later after posting someone you know comments “so when y’all gonna kiss?” and Jake decides to tease you about it whenever y’all get into your banter.

---

“I deserve to be pursued, to be worshiped. I don’t think I’ll ever have that, but I still deserve it!”

“Why wouldn’t you get that?”

“Have you LOOKED at me, Jake? I’m a pudgy wannabe pastry chef. Lol”

“I’d fuck you.”

“You’d fuck anything that consents.”

“That’s probably the nicest insult you’ve ever given me.”

---

Simone fucked off to France with Etienne, Jake is trying to recover, gets a letter saying she's signing over her half of the house to Jake so he owns in full, her final goodbye, totally cutting him off now, which leads to some appropriate emotional drama

---

"Now the house is sold, me and *some cook name* are looking to start our own place. Got a space and everything. You should come with us."

"I'm not a chef, Jake."

"No, but you're a good cook. You could make your diner food. We could do brunch on the weekends. I'll sling mimosas and bloody Maries to the waiting crowd. C'mon it'll be fun. I think you'd really enjoy it."

---

“When are you gonna let me kiss you?”

“Maybe one day, if you mean it.”

“And if I mean it now?”

“Then kiss me, Statefarm… See? You don’t mean shi–”

*grabs face, interrupting you with a kiss*

“Don’t fuck with me, Jake. You know I’m not about this fuckboy bullshit.”

“I’m not fuckin with you, okay? I’m not. I want you. And I think you want me too.”

This is all just shit I have in my doc, maybe another couple little ideas floatin around, but here's the long and short of the idea haha If you've read this far, thanks! ^_^

#jake sweetbitter #jake (sweetbitter)#tom sturridge

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forjongseong · 2 years

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tags

below are the tags I use and what they mean. feel free to filter/mute any of the tags if you don't want to see them clogging your dash!

#nanarambles - just me rambling about anything, could be k-pop related, could be personal, could just be about jay tbh

#nanarants - me RANTING. a little like the tag above but maybe more negative and with anger lol I do not use this often tho

#nanaanswers - whenever I receive an ask from anyone, I use this tag so I can go through it later when I need. if it's a moot, I will also add a tag that says "from.(their name)"

#nanafeedbacks - if I get asks or reblogs containing feedback for my work, I add this tag to organize them better and to reread later

#nanareadinglist - sometimes I reblog a fic I want to read but haven't gotten the time to yet, so this tag is what I use

#nanaficfaves - for works that I absolutely love, I tag them with these, and sometimes I add #nana loves it

#nanarecs - fics I have read, but not necessarily up in the faves tag, but I still want to recommend to other readers

#nanareblogs - sometimes i reblog posts from friends and moots, or random posts, and if they aren't work/fic-related, I just use this tag

#writtenbynana - I tag all of my work with this and depending on the title, I also add a tag that says "fic: (fic title)". for easier searching purposes, of course

#music night hello - I like posting music and songs randomly so if you want to check out the songs I've been listening to, go through this tag!

#will delete - on the rare occasion I do a face/outfit reveal, I will use this tag and keep the post up for a couple of hours before deleting

#nanatags #nanavigation

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falcqns · 2 years

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𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞)

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Henry Cavill x little!actress!Reader

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a snowstorm helps you grow closer to your co star in a way you never thought it would.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: beginning of a CG/L relationship, fluff, brief mention of H*yley A*well (just her name and then that's it), mention of Steve Rogers (again, just his name), mentions of storms!

✰ 𝐚/𝐧: thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy!! tagging @inlovewithhisblueeyes and @uhmellamoanna because i love them both dearly and they were really excited for this!! divider is by @firefly-graphics! also thanks to Freya Allan for talking about how supportive Henry is of her and how he encouraged her because it helped inspire this as well 😭

to who ever reads this: don't bother asking for a part two, you won't get it. i am the owner of this fic, and this blog, and I, and only I, will decided what fic gets a part two and when. respect me and my wishes or get off my blog. thanks!

don't forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

the first time you saw Henry, you couldn't speak to him. you were on set of Mission: Impossible 8, and you were filming a scene with Michelle when he walked on set with Tom. you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but refocused on the director to finish the scene.

the scene was finished a while later, and you were summoned over to Tom, who introduced you to Henry. you smiled shyly at him, at his head tilted to the side, clearly searching your face for something. he seemed to find it moments later, and he smirked, before smiling and complimenting you. before you could respond, however, Henry was pulled away a moment later by the costume designer.

"don't worry," Tom had said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders like he always did. "you'll get more one on one time with him later. he's just popular today."

turns out, Tom was right. the next week was your first scene with him, and you were practically shaking with nerves. you were supposed to run up to Henry and jump into his arms, and even thought Henry had assured you that you could give it your all, but he could tell you were holding back.

MacQuarrie yelled for a 20 minute break, and you barely had time to register that, before Henry was pulling you aside.

"is everything okay?" he asked, concerned. "you know i can take you jumping, right?"

you nodded, swallowing, eyes locked on the ground.

"hey," he said, his finger resting under your chin and tilting it up towards him. "what's going on?" he asked.

you shrugged, your chin wobbling slightly. "just nervous, i guess." you said, blinking rapidly to dissipate the tears.

"why?" he asked, his hand resting on the side of his face.

you sniffled before speaking. "this is my first acting job, a-and i just don't wanna mess it up." you admitted. Henry grasped your hand and brought you over to where your chairs were, and the two of you sat.

"starting out in this business is a scary thing," he said, a soft and caring look on his face. "it's a harsh and unforgiving business, but you can make it." he encouraged. "the amount of talent you have is astounding to me. not many people get a first role in a movie like Mission Impossible."

"y-yeah, that's what Tom said when he told me i got the role."

"most people also don't get the role moments after the initial audition, you know that right?" he asked, a smile on his face. you chewed on the inside of your lip, and nodded. "that shows just how much talent you have. you don't have to be nervous around me."

"i know, it's just-" you began, but stopped and looked down. "its just scary, acting with you." you said. "you're a much more experienced actor, and its a little intimidating."

Henry smiled and leaned in closer. "i understand. i felt the same way. my first movie was Hotel Laguna, and i remember being so terrified of acting with Joe Mantegna, but the more we filmed the easier it became."

you nodded, feeling much better after your conversation.

"everything will be fine, i promise." he said. "now jump into my damn arms or i will tickle you." he said, poking your side as MacQuarrie called the two of you back. you giggled, and walked away, missing the way he gazed at you, closing his eyes and shaking his head in a silent laugh.

"CUT!" MacQuarrie called, and you released Hayley from the choke hold, and walked over to where Henry was holding your phone and water bottle.

"can i put you in a white wig and make you do all my fight scenes on The Witcher?" he said, jokingly, and handed you your water.

you giggled, and smacked his arm, chugging the water. "as long as i get to wear that ab armor." you said. "i just wanna know what Geralt was thinking with that."

Henry threw his head back and laughed. "we had a whole scene where he found another Witchers armor in the armory and decided to use it."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "out of all the armor he could have chosen, he chose AB ARMOR?" you said jokingly. "he was just trying to show off to Ciri and up play how dangerous being a Witcher is."

"hey!" Henry exclaimed, tapping you on the nose. "being a Witcher is dangerous and scary!"

you cackled. "mhm, sure it is. keep telling yourself that."

Henry was about to respond, but Tom called for everyone's attention."

"due to some inclement weather approaching, we have made the decision to halt production until it passes. if you live close, you are welcome to go home, but we have booked out a few hotels for those who cant or don't want to." he said, and continued to explain, but you and Henry blocked it out when your assistants approached with room keys.

"what room are you?" Henry asked, looking at your card.

"210. you?"

"211."

"fuck, yeah." you said before Henry flicked your ear.

"language,"

"who are you? Steve Rogers?"

"don't say his name."

a few hours later, you were trembling from fear.

you and Henry had conjoining rooms, and he had come into yours an hour earlier, proclaiming that he was going to sleep, but to wake him up if you needed anything at all. you agreed, and gave him a smile as he left back through the door.

you grabbed your stuffy, weighted blanket, and paci from your duffel, and climbed into bed, trying to block out the loud wind noises. you stuffed your paci in your mouth, and began to suckle on it as you crawled under the blanket and cuddling your stuffy, and you could feel yourself slipping.

you let it happen, and sighed in happiness when you felt more calm, letting the stress of the day melt away from your body.

it worked for a while.

20 minutes, maybe?

and then the wind picked up again. your eyes were squeezed shut, when the loudest gust of wind hit the building with a thud, and you jumped, falling out of bed and onto the floor.

your knees hit the ground first, and you instantly burst into tears, pain shooting through your legs. another gust of wind hit the building, and you sobbed louder, pushing your body back into the corner between the window and the wall.

you wrapped your arms around your body and began to rock as Henry burst through the conjoining door.

"y/n?" he called, looking for you. "i heard your crying, are you okay?"

you sobbed again, not out of fear, but out of shame. you had your stuffy on your bed, and a paci in your mouth. there was no hiding this, especially since he was moving nearer you, having finally spotted where you were.

"hey, what's going on?" he asked, crouching down and rubbing your shoulder. you calmed down when he touched you, and laid your head to the side, resting it onto his arm.

you gasped silently when he pressed your paci, pushing it back into your mouth.

"did the wind scare you, sweet girl?" he asked in a soothing voice, his thick accent soothing you.

you nodded, and whimpered. you wanted to suck your paci, but you didn't want to draw more attention to it. Henry stood up, and bent back down, he placed his hands under your armpits, and lifted you up.

you sniffled again as he settled you on his hip. "shhhh, little one." he whispered as he walked around the room, calming you down. he saw you tense whenever he went near the window, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

he placed you back on the floor, and turned to close the curtains. he could hear you crying out in distress, wanting to be lifted again. he shut the curtains, and turned back, smiling when he saw you with your arms up, bouncing and waiting for him to lift you again.

he did just that, and carried you over to the bed. he laid him and you down, and pulled your stuffy and blanket closer. he wrapped the bed comforter around the two of you, and then the weighted blanket on top of that. you continued to squirm, and tug at his shirt. he didn't know exactly what you needed, but he also knew that something was wrong, and you weren't comfortable.

"are you hungry, baby girl?" he got a head shake in return.

"do you need to go potty?" another head shake, and another tug at his shirt. "what are you trying to tell me, sweet heart?" he said to himself, and sat up briefly, tugging his shirt off and throwing it off the bed.

"do you want yours off, too?" he asked, seeing you tug on your own shirt, giving him frustrated suckles at your paci. you nodded, blinking slowly, and he tugged it off as well. you sighed as you laid down on his bare chest, feeling Henry's fingers trail up and down your spine.

another kiss was pressed to your head as you drifted off, Henry's eyes locked on your face.

"i told you everything would be fine, didn't i?" he commented. "i love you."

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x reader fluff #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader smut #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x little!reader #daddy!henry cavill x little!reader #daddy!henry #daddy!henry cavill

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makethiscanon · 2 years

Text

I only have the willpower to write absolute crack these days, so here's a world-hopping reader ❤

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating: T

Tags: Story Extract, Adventure, Fluff, a lil angsty but not much, Newt acting like an absolute mom, Gally x Reader, Isekai

For the purposes of understanding the tiny details in this extract: Reader jumps realities to the Glade via a rechargeable power called the 'Tick'. She has an irl friend called Kai, and she's being hunted in her reality because of the power she stumbled onto. We enter the scene after she's jumped into the maze and has hidden until sunrise to avoid Grievers. Crack Fics, yo. Where logic has no home.

------

You woke again sometime later, with the sun well and truly beating down from above. The crawlspace had turned into an oven, and your body was clammy and damp with sweat.

Panting for breath, you fought against the ache in your muscles and pulled yourself from beneath the vines, rolling out onto the stone path. You lay there for just a second. You stretched your body, welcoming the shift in climate. The air was still warm, but not nearly as stifling as your hiding spot.

When you decided it was time to move, you used the vines to pull yourself up then wobbled like a new-born calf. You always hoped this part of the Tick would get easier. It never did. You were destined to always start your time in the Glade with backache and stiff legs.

Taking slow steps to begin with, you headed towards the open gates then smiled when you spotted the ever-green grass of the Glade. It was a sight for sore eyes after the treacherous maze and the confines of your apartment.

Teetering at the edge of the maze, you stuck to the wall like glue to keep hidden. It had been a few months since your last visit. There would be boys here now who did not know you. You didn’t want to startle anyone by wandering into the Glade like you owned the place, especially when the third and most important rule of the Glade was to never venture beyond the walls. If a Greenie saw you strutting in from the maze, they might even think you a Griever and try to gut you before anyone else could explain. It was an absurd worry, but as you were being hunted by villains in another reality, it was best to play it careful here.

You peered around the edge of the gate, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone close enough to see you. Some boys were working in the distance, too far away to distinguish, but for the time being the coast was clear.

You slipped into the Glade, heaving a great sigh of relief once you were inside the walls with no one calling out about your arrival.

Searching for something in particular, you traced the wall until you found the familiar patch engaved with the thirty names of the Glade's inhabitants. Some letterings were old, some fresh, and some had been chiselled through entirely to signify those who were dead. There were more names crossed-out since your last visit than you liked to notice.

Tracing your fingers over the stone, you lingered your gaze on each newly crossed-out name before daring to look for his. You knew exactly where on the memorial Gally’s name was, but the fear of seeing a strike through it caused you to falter.

You had promised Kai that Gally would not die so easily, but the maze was a cruel and unpredictable place.

After taking comfort from seeing some of your Glader friends’ names still intact, you dared look at Gally’s. And there it was; the five letters of his name boldly chiselled and untouched for three long years.

He was still alive.

You gave a little sigh of relief as you placed your hand to his name. You felt guilty for doubting him, but one of the worst things anyone could do in the Glade was hope for something good.

But now that you had that reassurance, a spring found its way into your step as you scurried along the perimeter towards the Gardens. Having come from the East Gate, and aiming for the Homestead in the North-West corner, your fastest path was straight across the Glade, but until you found Gally, or at least any of the prominent Gladers who knew about you, you didn’t want to stand out.

So you kept to the walls and headed north towards the Gardens, hoping to reach the Homestead without much hassle.

“____?”

But then again, some hassles were worth having.

You turned, hearing a familiar voice, then saw a mop of dirty-blonde hair as your second favourite Glader, Newt, appeared from amongst the Garden’s trellis. He grinned when he saw you.

“Long time no see, love.” He wiped the mud from his hands onto his pants then came straight over to hug you.

“I’m so glad you’re still here.” You said, only realising now how much you had missed your Glader friends. Newt embraced you, chuckling as you buried your face into his collar to say hello.

Newt was a tall, thin boy, who acted as the second-in-command amongst the Gladers. He radiated a natural friendliness and was often a source of companionship for you during your stays. Actually, if not for Newt, Gally himself would have banished you to the mercy of the maze on your first trip here. Your first encounter with the Tick had been completely accidental, and you had been just as afraid and upset by your arrival as the rest of the Gladers. It had only been Newt’s interference in a kind and calming manner that had settled everyone down, including you, and certainly including Gally.

“You’ve got impeccable timing as always, love.” Newt quipped, drawing back to get a better look at you like a mother hen checking over its chick for scuffs.

“Oh?” was all you could manage, pursing your lips to hold down a chuckle as he tilted your face to check you weren’t hurt. He was one of the only Gladers who knew that you entered the Glade through the maze, so he was always especially eager to check you over for stings.

“Aye,” he said with a playful grimace. “We’ve been having a bit of bother with wood-rot. Gal’s been especially grumpy from the extra work, and he’s been getting on everyone’s nerves. Think you can sort him out?”

“I’ll do my best.” You agreed, half-heartedly batting Newt’s hand away to tell him you were fine. “Do you know where I can find him?”

A boyish grin broke onto his face. He held an arm out towards the Homestead, enjoying the thought of someone putting the Keeper of the Builders in his place.

“He was working on the roof last I saw him. I can walk you over. Keep the greenies out your hair.”

You thanked him for the gesture as he dusted off his clothes, then he offered you his arm. You smiled, linking with him, then the two of you began a merry walk through the Glade like a couple of sweethearts in springtime. You kept the pace leisurely to accommodate Newt’s limp, and it gave you time to ask him about the changes since your last visit.

“What are the new recruits like? Any stand-outs?”

Newt chuckled, adopting a playfully serious tone.

“A bag of shanks if ever there was one.” He counted-off on his fingers. “Two new Builders, a Slopper and a Gardener.”

He gave you a pointed look, wondering if the news of a gardener would pique your interest when it was the role you usually adopted while you were here.

“Ooo, I guess I’ll have competition then.”

Newt pulled you closer into his side with a gentle squeeze at your waist.

“Don’t worry, love. He doesn’t wear a piny nearly as well as you.”

“Ha. I knew it.” You said, pumping your fist in mock victory, causing Newt to laugh.

“I’m glad you’ve not lost your sense of humour while you’ve been gone. How are things over there? Are they starting to settle down?”

It hurt only a little that Newt looked so hopeful, like he expected you to say that all your problems were gone and that life was perfect. Unable to grace him with such pleasant news, you shrugged and forced a smile.

“My life will never be settled, Newty. I like the chaos too much.”

“Good, that. At least it keeps you coming back.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that even if your real life was sunshine and rainbows, you would still visit, but the sound of fervent hammering caught your ear and stole your attention. Newt noticed and linked your arm tighter, like he expected you to go running off like a crazed toddler.

“Best not to charge in, love. You might give our new builders a heart-attack.”

You pouted playfully, but understood what he meant. The Gladers were made up entirely of amnesiac, disoriented boys. They arrived one per month via an elevator box in the centre of the Glade, completely memoryless, then struggled to make lives for themselves as one giant family.

The addition of a new Glader came like clockwork, so if you appeared all of a sudden, and being a girl no less, it was bound to cause an uproar. You knew that, and Newt knew that, because you'd managed to cause that same problem twice already.

Fortunately, as you approached the Homestead, you realised for the most part that it was empty. Everyone else was out doing their daily jobs, and only the builders were on sight to carry out maintenance.

Once you were stood outside the handmade home, engulfed by the sounds of hammering, Newt squeezed your hand with a gentle smile.

“Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s missed you.”

His words caught you off-guard. Before you could respond, Newt let go of your arm then cupped his hands around his mouth to shout at the top of his lungs,

“Gally, have you got a minute?”

The loud hammering noises ceased. Somewhere up on the roof, the timbers creaked as bodies shifted, then Gally called back,

“What’s wrong?”

Hearing his deep voice after so long sent a flutter of warmth through you, even if he did sound especially irked. Newt had not been exaggerating earlier.

“I’ve got something that might need your attention. Can you come down?”

You pressed a knuckle to your lips to hold down a smile as your anticipation built.

“Can’t it wait? We’re busy.”

Newt rolled his eyes.

“It’ll only take a minute. Come on.” He turned to you. “Bet he wouldn’t take this much convincing if he knew you were here.”

You liked to think he was right.

The wood groaned again as a certain someone found his way down from the roof on the far side of the Homestead. By now, Newt’s shouting had caught more than just Gally’s attention and others were making their way over from various areas of the Glade to investigate.

Gally came around the corner, wiping the sweat from his brow by lifting his shirt up to his face. The action gave you a very clear shot of his stomach and Newt could only chuckle as you squeaked in bashful surprise.

“What’s so important that I’ve gotta’ look at it now?” asked Gally, fixing his shirt back into place with a gruff tug. But the question was barely past his lips before he stopped dead, catching sight of you.

“Look who I found in the Gardens,” Newt announced with a cheery grin, taking full delight in Gally’s startled expression.

Seeing that neither you nor Gally planned to move, Newt put his hand into the small of your back then pushed you forwards, like a mother forcing their child into a playdate.

Unprepared for the shove, you stumbled but stopped before you could trip and make an embarrassment of yourself.

“H-hi, Gal.”

Gally didn’t speak. He didn’t move. The only reason you knew he hadn't died on the spot was the blink of his eyes and the ever-furrowing arch of his brows.

“Play nice,” Newt warned jokingly, as he knew what was going to happen next, especially with other Gladers closing in.

“Gal?”

The question was barely past your lips before Gally finally reacted.

You braced yourself, side-eyeing Newt to say goodbye as the builder stormed towards you, then his large hand clamped around your wrist.

“Inside. Now.”

Without breaking a sweat, Gally turned and marched you inside the Homestead, missing the arrival of the other Gladers by seconds, with Newt there to ward them off.

“Best give them some space, chaps.”

Inside, Gally kept hold of you as he pulled you straight through the council room and out to where the Medical and Keepers’ Rooms were. In this primitive Glade, they were the closest places to privacy anyone could wish for, aside from the washroom.

Minho, the Keeper of the Runners, was relaxing peacefully in his hammock when Gally stormed in. He barely had chance to spot you and wave before Gally shot him a look.

“Come back later.”

Minho clearly couldn't decide whether Gally was joking, but when he realised he wasn’t, Minho frowned but pulled himself out of his hammock, regardless.

“This is what I get for finishing my run early.” He pushed past Gally to get out, but flashed you a smile on his way past. “Welcome back, ____.”

“You look well, Minho.” You called after him, hoping to soften the impact of Gally’s mood.

Gally held onto your wrist until he knew the two of you were alone. He stayed still, listening out for anyone else. Even you strained an ear, wondering if perhaps the nosier Gladers would try to listen in, but after a moment, Gally released you. He stepped away and turned, sinking into his hammock with his feet over the side. His exuberant height meant they still planted firmly on the ground.

“Why are you here?”

He met your gaze and held it, his expression firm. Gally was never was one to beat about the bush.

“Hello to you, too.” You said, though your dry humour failed to break the tension. Gally raised his eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to drop the attitude and answer him. “Don’t be like that, Gal. You know I wouldn’t do this without good reason.”

He furrowed his brows further, but his expression slipped from impatience to something more like concern.

“What happened to Kai?”

“No, it’s not that. He’s alright.” You sucked in your breath. “I've finally got a target on my back, that’s all.”

Alarm flashed through Gally’s eyes. He went to stand up but you held up your arms to keep him still. “It’s okay. I’m fine. Kai's been keeping me safe.” You didn’t like how talking about the dangers in your other life made your breath shake. “But he’s gone off to fight. This is the only place I can hide. I’m sorry, Gal. I know we said I’d stay there this time. I know we did but—”

Gally was in front of you before you could stop him.

“Enough.”

One word was enough to silence you. He pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you before the true extent of your worries could take hold. Gally wasn’t the kind of person to talk about sentimentalities, but his firm embrace was enough to shush the uneasiness in your heart. It told you: he was glad you were here, and here you were safe.

“Thanks, Gal,” you murmured, pressing your face into his chest as you wrapped your arms around his broad midsection, your fingers almost touching.

He grunted in response, keeping hold of you until he was sure you did not need him.

“How long are you here for?”

You rubbed your face against the scratchy material of his shirt, trying to tell him you did not want to talk about it. You had just got here, and you had missed Gally more than you cared to admit. The last thing you wanted to think about was leaving him, especially when it led you to worry about Kai's fate.

“A few days. Maybe. I need to recharge.”

Gally was quiet for a moment and you gave him time to think, enjoying the strength and the warmth in his embrace, particularly because you knew it was a softer side of him reserved entirely for you.

“Fine.” He said, finally, definitively. He rested his hand against the back of your head, keeping you held against him in a clumsy but affection hold. “I’ve still got jobs to do. Should be done in an hour, though. Stay here so you don’t bother anyone else.”

“Would I do that?”

You tried to pull back so he could see your feigned hurt expression, but he kept you pinned because he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do.

“Behave.”

He stroked your hair, dwindling your urge to rebel. “Might as well enjoy the quiet while you can. Shuck knows you won’t get any peace once everyone knows you’re here.”

------

Imma do my best to get back to writing properly (or at least headcanons?) but let me know if you want any more extract dumps because I have hundreds that are rotting because I cant finish anything ��🤣❤

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admirableadmiranda · 2 years

Note

hiii sangsang! how are you? 💜💞 as a newbie to mdzs, my fandom experience has been so stressful considering the amount of toxic (not even productive) debate, fanon as canon and hate on the main couple esp LWJ. I'm trying to embody the whole ship butet ship, but it's irritating seeing the way people bring down LWJ. I think I'm gonna step back altogether, but I was wondering if you have any tips? I always end up sucked back in bc of fanart or a random fic. I don't know what to do

Hello anon! I am not doing my best today I’ll admit, I’m up about three hours later than I should be, but when I saw your ask arrive I couldn’t wait till morning to answer you.

I’m sorry your time in Modaozushi has been difficult. Unfortunately it’s a difficult fandom to be in for the reasons you name. Nonsense runs rampant and it’s hard to enjoy yourself when it feels like everywhere you turn you’re being bombarded with more of it. If you choose to leave and just enjoy the book as is, I won’t blame you.

But if you are wanting to try and stick it out, here are some tips I can offer.

A: Whenever you run into a take you hate, block the person immediately. If someone keeps reblogging it onto your dashboard, unfollow them. This is a pretty big active fandom, you don’t need all of that showing up constantly. The more people you have blocked, the easier it gets to manage. You can do a similar thing with Ao3. If I’m searching through posted fics (which is rare, but it happens), I have a bunch of tags I immediately filter out. I don’t need to see that and while not everything is tagged, having the most common fanon ones dealt with helps a lot.

B: I don’t go into the main tags. I have found my people I trust with good takes and two art blogs that don’t post so much fanon I can’t scroll past it with a weary smile and that’s enough. I don’t need to be in the center, I can be here in the corner with my anons and my bunnies and we’ll all have a good time.

C: if you’re wanting help finding more good fics in canon style, try @pocketfulofrecs the runners have been a little busy lately, but they have excellent taste and checking out the authors from their featured authors will definitely give you plenty of good fics to enjoy. In addition most of the people I reblog and rec are a wonderful beacon of sanity in this fandom, so if you want some warmer takes based off of MDZS, I highly recommend @rynne and @glitteringmoonlight or for amusing salt, excellent metas and fun things to know, @jiangwanyinscatmom (don’t be fooled by the username she’s a delight to know and the one good JC fan I’ve found in this fandom) @vrishchikawrites @whiteflowercrimsonparasol / @justdoityoufucker @karmiya / @fannish-karmiya @fondofeveryprickle @righteousinadversity and many others who are not coming to mind at this late hour, but you’ll see me interact with them regularly. While we don’t always agree on everything, we all respect and understand each other’s opinions and I am very happy to know them.

I hope this helps anon. And remember while this fandom may seem overwhelmed with bad takes, it is vast. There are many, many people in it. And I’m sure you can find your own little circle to have fun in.

And you are always welcome to stop by again! My inbox is always open.

#mdzs #asks #anon #anon asks #sometimes this fandom is difficult #but I will not give up on it as long as I am enjoying this book #sorry if I didn’t mention you dear friends #3am sangsang brain is not good at remembering things

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winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

a horrible first.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this takes place during rite of passage, where the unsub is the cop committing murder of undocumented immigrants crossing the border. we pick up right at the end, at the quasi-standoff in the desert. let me know what you think and i hope you enjoy it!!

words: 1.3k warnings: language, canon-typical violence and death, reader shoots and kills the unsub, mild dissociative symptoms following trauma, nothing too horribly graphic

summary: “the true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” ― g.k. chesterton. au!march 2010

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You brace yourself for a screaming stop in the SUV, immediately following Aaron to cover as Boyd flies out of the decrepit structure on an ATV, firing an automatic weapon of some kind.

You take a shot.

Time seems to slow as you watch Boyd go down, tzhe innocuous red dot in the middle of his forehead beginning to weep even before he hits the ground.

Derek fires his rifle from inside the car, but the deed is done. Boyd’s dead.

Aaron raises his head. If you had your wits about you, you’d see him counting off, making sure all of you are there. “You all right?”

“Yeah!” Morgan shouts as he leaves the car, but you’re stuck in place.

“No!” Emily immediately answers, turning on Derek. “Are you out of your mind? You blew out my eardrum.”

Aaron’s been there - the ringing is damn near unbearable.

“What did you want me to do? He was coming right at us!”

“I told you I had him.” She’s holding both hands over her ears, but you’re sure that’s not the only reason Derek’s raising his voice.

“He was shooting at us, Emily.”

“Well, you could have given me a heads-up!”

“The loaded MP-5 and the lunatic shooting at us wasn't enough? Come on.”

Aaron lets them bicker, but notices something odd.

You haven’t moved. You’re staring at Boyd’s body, your service weapon still in your shaking hand, your breath shallow.

He approaches you slowly from the side, extending a hand toward your gun. He says your name quietly, but you can’t hear him. He repeats himself and you startle as he gets a little closer.

He’s not as brave as you were when you pulled him off Foyet. He’s almost afraid to touch you, afraid you’ll hurt yourself or draw away from him.

The look on your face also scares him - it’s simultaneously blank and absolutely horrified. For a moment, he thinks back and realizes, with a little bit of shock, that he knows what it is.

You’ve never shot to kill before.

“Hey hey hey,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. He places a hand over the barrel of your gun. “Give that to me, okay?”

Another voice echoes in front of you. It’s Derek, who’s reached Boyd’s body. “Great shot, kid! Right between the eyes on a moving target. They teach you that at the academy?”

You let Aaron take your weapon from your hand, blinking a couple of times. He flips the safety and tucks it into his pants at his lower back, keeping his hands free.

Derek catches on, turning around and sobering.

Aaron can feel the rest of the unit creep up behind him, but he waves them off. They take a few steps back, watching with bated breath.

They all remember the first time they shot an unsub, their first kills in the field. A horrible, wretched first.

“Can you take a step back toward me?” Aaron asks.

You take a step back and trip, stumbling over your feet.

Aaron’s there to catch you under your arms, pulling you close. All at once, the levee breaks and you let out a sob, turning into him for refuge.

He closes his eyes and wraps around you. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You did the right thing. It’s okay.” He huffs, and it’s almost a laugh. “That was a really good shot.”

You clutch his vest, your arms locked around his waist. He keeps whispering to you as the crime scene techs arrive and start their work, shielding you with his body.

+++

You sleep on the plane home. Aaron sits across from you, working on the after-action report on your behalf. He looks up every couple of minutes as if he’s afraid you’ve disappeared in the time between his last check-in and that moment.

Derek, Spencer, and Emily watch him watch you.

“That sucks,” Emily says. “My first hit me hard, too, I think, but like… days later.”

Derek nods. “Yeah. It’s a shitty first, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m glad Hotch is over there. Probably the best person for this kind of thing.”

“Best person for the kid, too,” Dave says. Derek and Spencer frown.

Dave continues, clarifying, “Every one of us has someone we prefer when the day gets hard, whether we know it or not. Anchors, if you will. Good to have.” He looks over at the two of you again and doesn’t elaborate further.

You stir, and when you open your eyes, there’s a fresh glass of cold water next to you on the little side table. You take it gratefully, taking a couple of sips.

Aaron watches you orient yourself, check the time, and start your search for your report.

“I’ve got it here,” he says, offering it to you. “You have a bit more to do, and I have to keep your gun until all the paperwork goes through - protocol for use of lethal force with a firearm. It’s a simple review, no need to worry.”

You nod, taking it and thumbing through the extra pages in the back. You’ll probably ask Derek about the best way to fill them out.

Could ask Aaron, too.

Hotch.

Ask Hotch.

“How should I fill these out?

He takes a second, interrupting his own reply to stand and promptly plop himself in the seat beside you. “First things first - tell the truth. You did the right thing and nobody in their right mind will dispute that.”

“Thanks.”

The shadow of a smile passes across his face. “You’re lucky - this is cut and dry. Not all of us get a dirty cop on an ATV wielding an MP-5 for our first review.”

“Lucky?” You sound skeptical, at best.

His mouth quirks. “I know. Poor choice of words. You’ll probably have some rough nights. Do you want me to set up an appointment with the psychologist? The unit technically has one on retainer but -”

“You never use them because you’d rather hold all your emotions right there -” You poke his chest “- until you die?”

The little smile appears again. “You been listening to Haley again?”

“What, from beyond the grave? You bet. So, watch your ass, Hotchner.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be sure to do that.” He sobers, his eyebrows pinching in an adorable look of concern. “But really, if you want…”

“That might be nice, actually. To talk to someone.”

“And you know you can always come to me, right?”

You nod. “Of course.”

The dull hum of the plane fills the silence between you for a little while.

“I was really scared, Hotch.”

He resumes his listening posture, leaning on his elbow with his fingers laced together.

“It all happened so slow - and so fast? - at the same time. I don’t know. He just… He went down and I was so afraid that he’d shot Derek or Emily I mean -” You take a breath. “I heard the gunfire behind me and the glass breaking and I just didn't want to turn around and find them dead you know?”

“Yeah,” Aaron whispers. “I know.”

“I was so stuck that I didn’t even realize Derek was talking to me - he was right in front of me and I couldn’t see him. And then I started thinking about Boyd and all that hate and…”

You trail off, unable to continue with any degree of coherency, so you ask a question instead.

“Is it always this hard? Does it get easier?”

Aaron wavers for a minute. “Yes and no. It’s never ideal - you know you’ve made a mistake when you have to use lethal force, but you get more confident about making the right call in those situations as you see more of them. You’ve been with us for two years - I’m - No.”

He stops and his brow crumples.

“I was going to say I’m surprised you made it this far, but I’m not. I’m impressed. And proud. It took a dirty cop on an ATV -”

“Wielding an MP-5?” You finish for him.

“Yeah. It took that much for you to pull your trigger with any lethal intent, and even then you didn’t want to. The entire way you were talking about a de-escalation strategy - don’t think I didn’t hear you.”

A flicker of warmth blossoms in your chest and maybe, just maybe, you feel a little better.

+++

tagging: @avengersbau @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygranger @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @kerrswriting @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me @itsalwaysb33nyou @s-unflowxr @imlottiie @stummdummrumstehen @hqtchner @finnologys @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hothothotchner

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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silversatoru · 3 years

Note

hi!! me again, saw that you want some bnha requests and hoo boy do i fuckin got one for ya

im a hardcore member of the fuck bakugo 🖕🏼 squad but i also wanna fuck bakugo ya know?

therefore i would like to request a smut fic where bakugo is so painfully angry at the fact that he has a crush on the reader that he ends up getting caught stealing their panties and chaos ensues 😌

anyway love you bye ❤️

compulsion

touch-starved bakugou katsuki x f!reader

tags/warnings: nsfw, oral sex (male receiving), mild obsession, dom?reader, characters aged up

w/c: 1.9k

katsuki bakugo hates a lot things.

he hates hero training, he hates his annoying classmates, and he hates the fact that it rained today. he hates living in the UA dorms and he fucking hates the overly salted bowl of ramen he was forcing down his throat right now.

bakugo katsuki hates almost everything, but he doesn’t hate you — and he hates that doesn’t.

having a distaste for the world made things easier, because if he always assumed the worse than he’d never be disappointed. he’d gotten pretty far with that logic — that was up until you waltzed into his life and fucked it all up, sending his logic hurling out the window.

when he looked at you he didn’t feel the same hate that he felt for the world around him — in fact when he looked at you he felt a disgusting urge of optimism. he liked the way your hair fell around your shoulders, the way your lips curled when you smiled, and the way your skirt rode up your thighs. he didn’t hate anything about you and that’s what he hated most.

see ya later, katsuki! you’d called to him after hero training today, your round glossy lips pronouncing his name in a way that made his heart flicker and his blood boil over. why did everything about you have to be so fucking perfect? he couldn’t find a single flaw on your annoyingly pristine body no matter how hard he searched for one.

your voice consumed his mind — everything you said to him today replaying on repeat at the center stage of his brain:

come eat lunch with us, katsuki!

hey katsuki, did you finish the math homework? number seven makes like- no fucking sense.

have you seen those chips i like, katsuki? i swear if denki ate them all again i’m gonna kill him

your voice was precious, a terribly sensual melody in his sullen ears. and the way you clung to the ends of your words for just a little too long was repulsively adorable too.

katsuki needed something, anything, to get you off his mind. sitting here and daydreaming about you was making him irate with himself — forcing intrusively irrational thoughts through his thick head. something, anything, he needed to stop thinking about you.

he tossed what was left of his shitty ramen into the trash can and exited the kitchen. the common area was filled with students right now, you included, and it was much too crowded and annoying for his liking. you were sitting with hanta, laughing at some shitty fucking joke he was spouting off.

not that he enjoyed watching that lanky scotch-tape dispenser flirt with you — but it was keeping you busy. your dorm room would be empty right now, wouldn’t it?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

katsuki’s not sure how he ended up here, seething with anger and digging fervently through your drawer of panties. surely you wouldn’t mind if he took just one pair, right? you have to understand that he wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t absolutely need them. he wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t make him so fucking angry — this is your fault, not his.

he lifted the lacy material closer to his face for further inspection, unable to prevent his mind from wandering to how it would look wrapped around your body. fuck, they even smelled good — not that he was smelling them intentionally or anything, don't get the wrong idea. he just so happened to get close enough that the soft aroma of cherry blossom fabric softener wafted into his nostrils.

simmering with anger and foggy with unwanted lust, katsuki pocketed the panties for later and turned back towards the door — the same door that you were now standing in front of with immense confusion in your eyes. fuck.

“uh... hey katsuki, whatcha doin?” you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, cocking your head to the side.

“i- uh- it’s fucking none of your business,” he snarled at you, face flushing as he tried to figure out how long you’ve been standing there and how much you saw.

“you’re in my room dude, it’s totally my business,” you raised an eyebrow at him, “and that pair of panties you took is one of my favorites, maybe you could pocket one of the uglier pairs?”

“god, fucking dumbass, this is your fault! i wouldn’t be here right now if you weren’t so fucking infuriating,” his face was so angry and flushed you could have sworn there was steam sizzling off his skin.

“me? it’s my fault you’re standing in my room with a pair of my underwear in your pocket and an obvious boner in your pants?”

katsuki grimaced, faltering for just a second as he awkwardly shifted his sweatshirt and pulled it down to cover his swollen erection, “yeah shithead, that’s what i just said. weren’t you fucking listening?”

“this is horribly desperate, katsuki, you could have just asked. i’m more than willing to help you out with this,” you stepped forward and began to shorten the distance between the two of you.

“willing to help me? are you insane? i don’t need your fucking help!” he tried to retaliate, but you were already inches from him, reaching down and dragging a hard palm over the lump in his jeans.

“quit screaming like a lunatic and let me help you, i know this is what you think about,” you pressed harder and gave him an icy stare, the boy using everything in his power not to crumble under your touch.

he’d never been touched like this by anyone, and he was so caught off guard by your sudden movements that he simply stared back at you, frozen in place. no arguments, no insults, no deflective blaming — his brain could barely compute his own name now that your hand was prodding at his bulge.

“that’s what i thought,” you cracked a small smile, “poor katsuki, always pushing everyone away and never getting any action. come sit down”.

katsuki failed to wrap his brain around the current events, wondering how his failed attempt at stealing a pair of panties had led to him sitting on the edge of your bed while you stripped him of his trousers. you were sinking to your knees now, head perfectly level with his cock that was standing flush against his abdomen.

he almost flinched when you reached out and brushed your delicate fingers over the red, swollen head of his dick. his cheeks were flushed with a deep red, and he wanted nothing more than to yell you, to tell you how much of a freak you were. but he didn’t, because as much as he hated to admit it, your touch was the best thing he’d ever felt.

your fingers were wrapped around his shaft now, pumping slow strokes as you warmed him up. he hissed and squirmed under your brand new touch — eyes squeezing shut and hands grabbing fistfuls of your comforter. katsuki had touched himself plenty of times, most of them while thinking of you, but your hand felt so much better than his ever did.

“you’ve never been touched like this, have you?” you pouted up at him, your fingers squeezing a little tighter and pumping a little faster, “poor baby”.

“i- fuck- ah,” he choked out a pitiful cluster of sounds that didn’t actually form any words but still gave you the answer to your question.

you were terribly amused, the typically angry boy was a twitching mess under your touch and you’d barely even started yet. you could only imagine how quickly he’d melt when your lips were around his cock — you were dying to find out.

you leaned forward and began slowly flicking your tongue over the puffy tip, still pumping the shaft with one of your hands. katsuki let out strings of sounds that could only be described as mewls and whimpers, his thighs shaking and his knuckles turning white. poor poor baby, you continued to think, i’m gonna make you feel better than you ever have before.

your head dipped low, the first few inches of his cock sliding across your tongue and into the back of your mouth. the blonde boy whined and bucked his hips, his eyes shooting open at the sudden burst of hot, wet pleasure.

“hng- fuck- fucking sh-shit,” his curses came out as pitiful gasps for air as he stared down at you with wide eyes.

you gradually took more and more of his length into the depths of your throat — his extensive length, by the way. for someone so blessed with such a big, pretty cock, you couldn’t believe he didn’t put it to use more often.

katsuki was cussing you out like it was his job, but each word was accompanied by a gasp or a humiliating whimper. he was so fucking embarrassed, but he felt much too good to care right now. your wet, sticky mouth was enveloping his cock in the most perfect way, jolts of euphoria spiking through his veins and fogging his head.

there was a pressure quickly building in his stomach, a tight wam feeling that signified he was going to come all too soon. but of course you expected this — honestly he’d lasted a few minutes longer than you thought he would.

when his orgasm finally racked through him, his entire body twitched and convulsed, his hips bucking wildly as strings of white liquid sprung from his cock and lined the walls of your tight throat. you milked every drop of cum from him, swallowing it down and then pulling your head back. as much as you wanted to push him and overstimulate him you decided to play nice for his first time.

“so good, katsuki. did you like that?”

his shoulders caved in and his head hung low as he finally came down from his high — the realization of all of the transpiring events finally catching up to him. he mumbled the quietest: yeah, it felt fucking good in response to your question, but refused to meet your eyes.

“we could do this more often, what you think?” you reached up and placed your hand under his chin, coaxing him to look at you.

“fuck- fine, yeah whatever, but don’t fucking tell anyone about this,” he growled, his angry eyes and twisted eyebrows finally meeting yours.

“of course,” you smiled, standing and tossing him his pants to put back on, “i just came here to grab a sweatshirt, so i better go before anyone comes looking for me. i’ll come find you later though, promise”.

and with that you were walking through the door, wiping your sticky lips on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and heading for the elevators. katsuki sat on the edge of your bed for a few minutes longer, mind blown by the curves of your mouth and the skill of your tongue.

katsuki didn’t hate you before, and he really doesn’t hate you now, but he’s coming to terms with it this time. letting his walls down for you doesn’t sound all that bad if it means you’ll keep making him feel like this.

#bnha bakugou #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha imagines #boku no hero smut #my hero academi smut #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x reader

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granolabird · 3 years

Text

The Weight of Reality

Post 2x08. Sorry guys, there isn’t really a way to fluff this one out. It’s gotta be angsty. Beth finds out about Rick being put in jail, and immidiately calls him. Needless to say, he’s not doing well. Written while listening to Giants by Imagine Dragons on loop bc that’s such a Rick-centric song.

Warings: One single F bomb. And a lot of sad teenagers. That is all.

Tags: @hournites @bethchapelsbonnet

If you’d like to be added to my weekly Hournite fic taglist feel free to ask :)

Beth is sitting at her desk doing research when she gets the call. It’s ten at night, and fireworks still light the sky outside her house. She’s always hated the fourth of July. Too much noise and partying. Beth was a fan of neither of those things. This fourth of July felt different though. It felt too quiet, what with all the Eclipso business. She was almost thankful for the bright colourful bursts of light outside her window, reassuring she was still in the real world. She was still here. Eclipso couldn’t get to her as long as she had the goggles on.

Her first instinct after the whole Eclipso business had been to phone Rick. He hadn’t responded, which was nothing out of the ordinary. She chalked it up to the bad service at his farm, as that was his usual excuse. When Beth called Courtney and she didn’t respond was when Beth began to worry. Courtney spent all her free time on her phone. She always answered. She was decidedly not answering. Then Beth tried Pat, who she only really called during emergencies, to the same result. She left them all messages of varying concern, telling them about how she really needed to talk, and she had more information on Eclipso. Perhaps the Whitmore-Dugan family were out having a fourth of July celebration. That made sense. That was the option Beth went with.

So that’s how Beth got here. Googling her life away, looking at shady PDF documents on possible origins of Eclipso, and on the original JSA. She didn’t have much but it was something to keep her brain occupied. She’s skimming an article about The Flash and everything that’s known about him when her phone rings.

It’s Pat.

She almost takes her goggles off before picking it up instinctively, but she corrects herself and leaves them on as she answers the phone. There's a moment of silence on the other side of the line before Pat speaks.

“Beth?”

“Pat! Thank goodness, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you-”

“Beth, I need to tell you something.” There’s a serious tone to his voice. It reminds Beth of the time the hospital called to tell her family that her grandfather was deathly ill. It’s a tone of voice laced with pity, and she hates it. After everything she’s dealt with tonight pity is the last thing she feels like dealing with.

“What’s wrong?”

She keeps her thoughts to herself, instead focusing on figuring out what Pat has to say. There’s more silence on the other end of the line. She can hear what sounds like Courtney crying in the background. She hears Pat take a steadying breath.

“Pat? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Rick.”

Beth’s entire body drops. She feels it. She feels herself crumple. The feeling of dread she thought she’d destroyed when she fought off Eclipso returns instantly, making her feel sick. Rick.

Something’s happened to Rick.

“Is he…”

“He’s okay, Beth. But he’s in Jail.”

“What?”

“Eclipso got to him. Made him think Matt was Grundy. Rick attacked him, and almost killed him. The police took Rick in. Court and I are at the station now, we’re trying to get it figured out.”

“No.” She can barely hear herself speak.

“Beth I’m so sorry”

“What about the hourglass? Can’t he use that to break out of jail or something?” Beth is scrambling for an answer, a way to help Rick.

“You know he wouldn’t do that Beth, even if he could.”

“If he could?”

“He smashed the Hourglass.”

Beth doesn’t know when she started crying, hot tears flowing down her face. She finally got somewhere with her parents and now this. Now this.

“Beth? Are you okay?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry Pat I just… I need a minute to process.”

“It’s okay Beth. I can call you back later if you want. Then we can talk about what you wanted to tell us?”

Beth wants to say no, that she has to tell them about Eclipso and her immunity to him with the goggles right now but she can’t. She physically cannot. Every time she opens her mouth it feels like fire is creeping up from her lungs. She can barely breathe.

“Yeah.”

Is all she can force out.

She’s shaking as Pat hangs up, staring at her cracked phone screen. The photo of her and the rest of her friends smiling split by the nasty lightning-bolt shatters on the glass screen. Broken. She looks at Rick in the photo, his arm slung around her leisurely as he laughs at a joke Mike said before taking the picture. She wants nothing more than to be back with him at that moment. Things seemed so much easier then.

“I’m sorry Rick. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you.” She murmurs, pressing her forehead to the top of her phone screen.

The phone, of course, provides no response.

She stares at the screen a while longer before she gets an idea, frantically searching up the number of the police station. She’s not sure it’ll work. She’s not well versed in the etiquette of phoning the police station to talk to a newly-arrested teen but it won’t hurt to try, right?

She hesitates for a moment, her finger hovering over the phone number. She takes a deep breath before she presses it, and then hits the call button.

Ringing

And then

“Blue Valley Police Department, how can I help you?” A deep male voice answers the phone.

“Hi! Sorry, I don’t know if this is the right number to call, or what I’m supposed to be doing here really.” She’s speaking quickly, words blending together in her panic. She takes another deep breath and then continues.

“You have someone I know in detainment? A Rick Tyler? Or maybe he’s under Rick Harris, but that’s not really his name.” She cringes at that statement, but the officer, whoever they are, should call Rick by his real name. He deserves at least that.

“Right. So why exactly are you calling?”

“Oh! Sorry, I’d like to talk to him if that’s possible? I know he’s just gotten there but I’m.. Well I’m his closest friend. I just really need to talk to him.”

“Listen kid, we already have people here trying to figure out what to do with him-”

“Pat and Courtney. They know me, they’d want me to talk to him too. Please. I really need to talk to him. Even if it’s only for a little while. Please.”

A deep sigh on the other end of the line.

“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for young romance. He’s in a detention cell right now. I’ll see what I can do.”

Beth’s mind catches on to the words young romance. She wants to correct the officer and tell her there is no romance, but she doesn’t. Because that would be a lie. There was something. A spark. One that may never turn into anything if Rick gets sent off to a juvenile detention centre somewhere halfway across the country.

“Thank you so much.” Beth breathes, realizing she hadn’t said anything in response.

The officer only grunts, and then she hears the sound of the phone being placed on the table, and footsteps walking away.

It seems like hours before she hears more footsteps, hurried, almost panicked. She hears a vague

“You have to be quick. I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

No response, only a swoosh of air as the phone is lifted up and then

“Beth?” Rick’s voice is shaking.

Beth has never heard him so genuinely scared. He sounds terrified, and so deeply sad. He sounds broken.

“Rick. Rick, I’m here, what happened?”

“Beth.” He repeats her name, and then she hears him sob.

It’s a guttural noise as he gasps for air, and Beth wishes she could reach through the line to hug him. She wants to be there with him more than anything.

“Rick, it'll be okay.”

“It won’t. I’ve fucked it all up Beth. We can’t fix this one.” He sounds so defeated.

“We can try. I’m not going to stop trying. This isn’t your fault. We’re going to get you out of this.” “This is my fault. This is entirely my fault. It was bound to happen one day, and now it did. Even Matt knew it, I was destined for the cells. That’s my future.” He’s not even listening to what she’s saying, just rambling to himself at this point.

“Rick-”

“You deserve better than me Beth. You, and the whole team. I’ve been nothing but a dead weight. You’ll be better off without me.”

“RICK.” Beth half-shouts into her phone, tears still burning molten streams down her cheeks.

She hears Rick inhale sharply on the other end of the line. He’s surprised. Good, at least that’ll get him out of his own mind.

“I’m not leaving you and that’s final. Nobody is. You may not think it, but we care about you. A lot. We’re going to get you out of this.”

Another sob on Rick’s end, and she can hear his heavy breathing as he tries, and fails, to regain his composure.

“I’m sorry. Beth, oh my god I'm so sorry.” She wishes Rick didn’t sound so terrified.

She wishes there was some way she could reverse time and be there to help him. To make everything better.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not. Eclipso made you do it. Please, please don’t blame yourself. Please don’t.” She’s pleading, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“I… Beth I…” He’s at a loss for words.

She hears the deep voice of the Officer in the background. Shuffling. “I’ve gotta go Beth.” His voice is strained. “Ok. I’ll see you as soon as I can.” Beth offers, hoping it’ll provide him some reassurance.

“Right.”

A deep breath on his end, and then more shuffling and voices. “Beth I.. I lo… I…” He’s really trying to say something, his words choked as he struggles to spit them out.

Before he can finish his sentence there’s more footsteps and the phone clatters down. A few more seconds of shouts and shuffling before the line cuts out, and Beth is left alone again.

She’s almost certain she knows what he was going to say in that last sentence but she can’t bring herself to think too much about it. It’ll be something to talk about once they get Rick out. They have to get him out. With a sigh Beth returns to staring at her shattered phone screen, still crying. She stares at Rick’s smiling face, and tries to smile back at him. She just wants to be with him. She just wants it all to be okay. She’ll just have to keep telling herself it’ll all be okay. Then, maybe one day it will be.

It has to be.

#This hurt me to write #But it is what it is #Stargirl #Stargirl Spoilers #Hournite #Beth Chapel #Rick Tyler #beth x rick #hourman #dr. mid nite #pat dugan #Angst #Just a lot of angst

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wasabito · 3 years

Text

thank you to @sparkexplosive and @vs-redemption for beta reading it for me! merry christmas & happy holidays everyone ♥️

➽ synopsis: being a member of the royal guard is a grueling and thankless job, so you decide to remind katsuki a little of what it’s like to be young again—what better way to do that than with some healthy competition.

➽ word count: 1.7k

➽ tags: fluff, budding romance, royalty au, childhood friends

➽ author’s note: i had a ton of fun participating in my first ever secret santa!! this is my gift-fic to the lovely @katsushimaa hope you enjoy, yssa!

"So, this is where the hell you've been hiding?"

His voice tore through the midday stillness like a blade, equal parts raspy and gruff. He sounded irritated and mildly fatigued. Not that Katsuki Bakugou would ever admit to being anything less than a hundred and ten percent. He climbed off his steed, heavy boots crunching under the weight of his feet, and secured his horse against the stump you were leaning on.

You flipped the page of your book, not sparing the man even a cursory glance. You would prefer to keep your attention occupied by fictitious worlds, warriors, and battles fought in the name of love and justice.

It was much easier to allow yourself to become the bearer of fictional hardships, because at least they could be solved through a well-constructed plot with each turn of a page, as opposed to the realities of your actual life, a slow spiraling disaster in comparison.

Bakugou stood in front of you, vein ticking on his throat with every clench of his jaw. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, red gaze pinned on your hunched form. He wasn't at all the kind of person anyone could easily ignore. His very presence demanded attention and drew eyes like a magnet.

Case in point, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you simply couldn’t.

"Please tell me you aren't going to stand there the entire time. Take a hint will you." You went to turn another page, but Bakugou reached over and snatched the book from your hands with deft fingers and speed you couldn't hope to match.

"Give. It. Back."

"Nah, I don't think I will just yet." He sneered, thumbing through the pages. "I was told to bring your dumbass back to the estate, so that's exactly what the hell I'm 'bout to do."

You blew a puff of air from your lips, eyes blazing with a kind of defiance that only burned harder the more you glared at him. "Then I guess you'll just have to drag me back kicking and screaming."

Bakugou only smirked, teeth spread in a feral grin that sent a chill down your spine.

That had always been his intention.

Almost an hour later, you stood before your parents, clothes dusty, creased, and smudged from having been manhandled like a sack of flour before promptly dumped in front of your waiting audience.

A frown marred your delicate features as they began their lecture.

Your mind drifted elsewhere the more they reminded you of your lineage and that you were royalty and how it was imperative you behave as such. You’d heard it all before, known this for as long as you could remember. As the King and Queen of your home country, your parents never failed to emphasize the importance of keeping your every move in check because of the reputation you had to uphold.

Katsuki stood somewhere behind you, and although he stayed mostly silent, you could almost hear him grinding away at his molars. The King and Queen were taking turns subtly digging into him as well, implying that his incompetence was a stain upon the royal guard perfect record of achievements. If he couldn't keep you in line, what was the point of holding rank?

They annoyed him way more than they did you, but he dare not voice it, not if he wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulders. Far be it from him to send himself to the guillotine

You both were in for a long night.

“Honestly, this kind of behavior is unbecoming of someone of your status. What will our countrymen think if they see you roaming about unattended like a vagabond?” Your father stroked his beard as if waiting for a response. But everyone in the room knew he really just liked to hear himself talk.

He was no better than a machiavellian swindler in expensive robes. A puppet if you would.

The real leader of the land was your mother. After all, she had only married into the family, having been the daughter of a mere advisor with no royal blood. She spoke little, but her glare was more than enough to convey just what she was thinking.

By the end of the lecture, you felt like all of your energy had been sapped from you, but thankfully your parents left you to retreat into your bedroom for the remainder of the day. Bakugou escorted you, following close behind.

“You’re gonna do it again, aren’t ya?”

You paused, foot nearly catching against the carpeted floors of your bedroom. Fiddling with a piece of your hair, you shrugged. “...maybe.”

“You’re a huge idiot.” Bakugou shook his head with a low laugh.

A tiny smidgen of a grin danced on your lips as you considered him. He was your childhood friend. No one knew you better than he did. And he was also the guard most assigned to watch over you and keep you safe from harm.

Despite that, you’d come to notice how much he’d changed. He wasn’t the same Katsuki you grew up knowing and you missed him dearly. Occasions like this, where a part of his guard was let down, were becoming few and far between. There had to be something you could do.

“Let’s make a wager. If you can manage to find me, I’ll do one thing at your command.”

“Challenge accepted.” He reached into the folds of his uniform, pulled out your little novel, and slapped it right into your open palm. "No matter where you run off to, I'll find ya. Trust me on that, princess."

His eyes were like candles in the night, ignited by a spark of passion. Not a single lie could be detected.

"I won't make it easy on you, Katsuki, just so you know."

"Heh, you better not." He sniffed, tucking his hands into his uniform pockets. And with a final half-wave, he was gone.

In and around the capital city, winter had completely lost it's bite. The weather was tepid, swinging a mild breeze that coasted through the countryside. It was the sort of winter where one felt as if woolen clothing were worn more for comfort than necessity. In what should have been the chilliest part of the year, Bakugou found himself traversing one of the many beaches that hedged the southern peninsula.

After a full week following the challenge issued in your bedroom, Bakugou realized you were entirely too good at evading him or any of the other guards at the kingdom’s disposal, for that matter.

Day in and day out, he spent his shifts searching tirelessly for you, just to stumble upon you in the most random of places and only when you had wanted him to find you. The running score was six to five in your favor, but he was determined not to lose to you again.

And there you were, standing at the very edge of the shore, as if a mere thought had manifested you right before his very eyes. Your loose billowing dress of soft satin waved to him like a white flag of surrender in the air. He'd finally found you.

"Not gonna run off this time?"

"Nope! You won this round." Your cheeks creased in a smile.

Given the boots he'd worn, it was no surprise that his feet kept sinking into the sand. You said nothing as he toed off his shoes and socks, bare feet settling into the depths of warm, grainy sand.

He couldn’t help but feel more relaxed. Over the past few months, he’d found himself losing sight of his goals, caught in the dredges of the mundane and routine.

The cool waters lapped at both his and your feet, fizzing and bubbling, leaving behind traces of salt. You went further into the water’s touch, your back to him as the tides licked at the your calves. Even he had to admit, the view was a beautiful one, possibly even more so with you against the backdrop.

“I’m glad you found me,” you called over the cry of seagulls. “For a second, I was worried you’d lose this round.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Tch, as if I’d ever lose to you, princess.”

“Naturally.” You laughed.

“What the hell are we doing out here anyway?”

He knelt to roll up his pants, a mere moment away from following after you like always.

“I... really just wanted to show you the view. Do you remember when we used to come down here as kids? Remember how we used to dare each other to see who could go the farthest into the ocean?”

Of course he remembered. Those were some of his most cherished memories of his time spent with you before duty to the kingdom took precedent.

You reached a hand out to him, an open invitation. “I just thought you needed a little reminder of what that was like.”

For some reason, Katsuki was determined not to meet your gaze, scowling at some point on the horizon, until you came over and nudged him with your elbow. “It wouldn’t kill you to admit that I’m right.”

With a sigh, he reached over and tugged you into a hug. You snuggled close to his chest, gripping the back on his uniform. It may have been your imagination but you could’ve sworn you felt the soft press of lips against your temple.

“Thanks... you know... for everything.”

Beaming, you leaned back to get the full view of his heated cheeks.

“Of course, of course.”

There was something earnest in his eyes that told you no matter how far you went, or however far you traveled, he’d always be a step behind you. It sent your heart hammering in your ribcage. You were suddenly all too aware of the way he held you secure against him like he would never let go.

“What are you thinking, princess?”

You blinked owlishly, taken over by your feelings and mumbling a hushed. “Oh, nothing.” The two of you were just a royal and a guard, bound to one another by duty.

If there could be anything more than that...well, only time would tell.

#pocuties secret santa #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff

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